Today is Sweden’s national day.

Earlier this year I got my Swedish citizenship. I still have my Estonian one, and I guess as long as I don’t make any noise about having two, I can keep both.

If you asked me about my nationality, my answer would depend on the situation. Travelling abroad with the family? I’m Swedish. At work, among lots of other people who are Swedish to some extent but originally from elsewhere? I’m Estonian. In my everyday life, I really don’t care much.

The only reason I wanted this was to be able to vote in the Swedish national elections. I live here, and I’m affected by the political situation, so I want to affect it in turn. Especially the way it has been going recently, with the Sweden Democrats gaining influence. After the elections in 2018 I felt I needed to do my part. It somehow took the migration agency five and a half years to make a decision in my case, instead of the normal two or three, so I didn’t get to vote in the 2022 elections, either, but now I’m all set for the next time.

(The flag in the photo belongs to our neighbours – they have a flagpole in the yard.)

There’s a lot of talk about “borders” in this year’s campaign for the EU parliament elections in Sweden.

The Centre party at least say what their “borders” or limits are about = against Putin, against animal cruelty, for climate action. The Christian Democrats just promise “borders and freedom”. Umm. Ok? Sounds good?

Ingrid is studying WW1 at school, and her teacher had recommended the class to visit the Army Museum to learn more. She asked for company, so I went with her to the museum.

The permanent exhibition was much smaller than I had expected given the teacher’s express recommendation. And it was very much about the army and its experience of the war, rather than about the bigger picture, the whys and the wherefores. Still, well presented and rather interesting, and we learned things. About the breakneck pace of technical innovation during the war, for example. And that guns are heavy.

We breezed through the rest of the 20th century and didn’t visit the section about older history at all. What we did spend time on, though, was a very topical temporary exhibition about historical relationships between Sweden and Ukraine.

I had no idea that there were such close ties between the royal families, and important political alliances. Starting Ingegerd Olofsdotter, daughter of a Swedish king, marrying the Grand Prince of Kiyv, which I had never heard about. Then Karl XII allying with Ukrainian leader Ivan Mazepa against Peter I of Russia – what I remember about the Great Northern War from my years in Swedish school is all about Sweden warring against Russia, with Ukraine coming up only tangentially as the place where the battle of Poltava took place. (And the parts of GNW that were discussed during my Estonian schooling were mostly those that took part in Estonia, i.e. the battle of Narva, and the fact that it brought with it the end of the “good old Swedish days” and the passing of Estonian territory from Swedish rule to Russian.)

I also (re-)learned that Gammalsvenskby, an old village in Ukraine of people of Swedish heritage, was originally settled by Estonian Swedes from Dagö/Hiiumaa. Sadly most of the village has been destroyed now in the war.

Adrian and Ingrid both cook dinner once week. Ingrid saves favourite recipes on TikTok; Adrian sticks to trusted favourites.

One of his favourites is a simple but delicious pasta dish with oven-roasted cherry tomatoes, cream and mozzarella. I’ve always thought of it as an ordinary, everyday meal, but when I was shopping the ingredients today, I realized that with current grocery prices, it’s become a luxury dish. Even just the 800-900 grams of tomatoes cost over a hundred SEK, and the cream and cheese are another fifty SEK.

Commuter train schedules have been unusually erratic for the last couple of months, because of staff shortages. I don’t understand how staff shortages can come out of nowhere and stay for months, but whatever.

Now the train company has decided that trains no longer need two members of staff, and a driver can do the job without a conductors. Drivers vehemently disagree and say that it is unsafe. If anything were to happen, they would be alone with no help or support. I can understand their point of view. Imagine being involved in an accident, for example – and then, while still in shock, being solely responsible for upwards of 2000 passengers.

It’s gotten to the point where the drivers have gone on a three-day wildcat strike. Spånga is located right on a train line, but far from the tube lines – which is great most of the time, but not so much when the trains don’t run. Spånga to Sundbyberg (the next station towards the city) takes 5 minutes by train, but 25 by a zig-zaggy combination of bus and tube via either Rissne or Tensta.

I worked from home yesterday and the day before, but didn’t want to miss the tretton37 lunch today. For the way home I picked another tube + bus combo, via Brommaplan. The next 117 bus from Brommaplan to Spånga was a shortened route that stopped earlier, and instead of waiting for the next one, I walked the last kilometre and a half. It was nice.

Last Wednesday when I was in town I happened to walk past Riddarfjärden and see the City Hall across the water, with a spectacular light show. I guessed it was connected to the Nobel week festivities. When I later googled to check, I found out that it was a whole thing, with light installations at at least twenty places around Stockholm. I wish I’d known about this before – I’d have tried to see more of them. The City Hall probably got the most impressive installation, but I’m sure the rest were beautiful and interesting.

I’ve had this long, fluffy, woolly skirt for at least 16 years, because I know I bought it at Spitalfields Market when we still lived in London. It was love at first sight: I love the look and the feel of the fuzzy material, and the skirt itself is constructed in a unique and interesting way. And it has pockets!

Despite its awesomeness, I haven’t been wearing it more than a few times every winter. It’s warmer than I usually need when I’m in an office. And I’m also aware that its hairy look is rather eye-catching, and I don’t want to be “the crazy lady who wears a fuzzy blanket all the time”.

This is the winter the skirt has been waiting for. With the cold (–8°C) and the electricity prices (around 5 SEK/kWh) right now, the best thing to prevent both bankruptcy and freezing is to dress warmly in multiple layers of wool. And I’m working from home, so the only person seeing my hairy skirt all day is me.

Nysse seems to have feelings about this skirt as well. He never reacts to any of our clothing, except Ingrid’s shoelaces, which he likes to play with – and this skirt. I get the impression that he’s curious and maybe puzzled about it, and sometimes almost seems to think it’s alive, so he bats at its edges when I walk past him.

On the one hand, it’s 15°C in the living room.

On the other hand, we’re paying around 500 SEK per day (that’s 50 EUR for you Europeans) for electricity right now. Heating more would cost even more.

So I guess I’ll just get another blanket.

18°C used to be the point where I would turn up the radiators. With these prices – and with the visibility we have from our new electricity contract – I’ve had to learn to frame things differently. Heating is something you do at night when prices are lower. During the day you just dress warmly. Three layers of clothes is normal. At least two of the layers should be wool-based, preferably.

Which is why I’ve ordered more warm woollen sweaters and undershirts. Buying second hand, I could literally get a sweater or two every week with the money I’m not paying for more heating. And then at least I get a sweater out of the deal, instead of feeling like I’m just burning money.

In a couple of weeks, we’ll also be getting a heat exchanger installed. Which will unfortunately cost quite a bit more than a few sweaters, but on the other hand will do more to keep us all warm for longer. I’m counting down the days.

In the meantime, the next ten days will be the worst in sight. The weather will be really cold; Sweden’s largest nuclear power plant will be undergoing emergency maintenance; hydropower plants will be running at reduced capacity to let ice form on the rivers; wind power will be limited because it’s less windy than usual.

Every year since 1988, the Swedish Retail Institute has announced a “Christmas gift of the year” – a product that somehow embodies the zeitgeist for that year. Apparently it is based on “an independent analysis of consumption trends” but it’s probably just some group’s fingers in the air.

Sometimes they capture the beginning of a trend, or the introduction of a product that stays. The CD player in 1992, a cookbook in 2002 when cookbooks were starting to be hip, a flat-screen TV in 2004. Sometimes they zoom in on a temporary madness – the spiky acupressure mat in 2009, a juicer in 2013, VR goggles in 2016.

In 2020, the camping stove got to embody the Swedish people’s new-found love for the outdoors, triggered by the covid quarantine; in 2021 an event ticket symbolized the end of the quarantine.

Anyway, it’s a bit of fun, even though I’ve never let it affect my actual choices of Christmas gifts.

Until this year. The Christmas gift of the year for 2022 is a home-knitted garment. Inflation is high, and so are electricity costs. There is a war going on, and people in bombed-out cities are without heating or electricity. The world feels like a chilly place. People want something to warm them, both in body and heart. And home-made crafts, which used to be something for grannies and oddball hippie activists, are suddenly trendy again.

I have a cardigan to finish, and I really hadn’t planned to knit any more socks right now, but I couldn’t pass up this opportunity. So there will be some socks under the tree this year again. I did half a sock today, just in meetings or while reading – thicker yarn makes the work go fast – so I can easily get some done before Christmas.

Sunday evening. We’re listening to commentary on the Ukrainian war by Perun while I’m knitting and Eric bakes pizza for dinner. Perun comes out with a new video every Sunday, so this has become a habit for us. (Not the pizza part. But knitting is often part of it.)

Perun’s videos are the best source for commentary and analysis of the war that we have found and I’d recommend them to anyone who is interested in understanding the background of what’s happening. Most remain relevant many months after publication. Today’s video, How Lies Destroy Armies, is about the pervasive culture of lying in Russia and how it affects the army and its performance. No surprises there to anyone who grew up in the Soviet Union, but still interesting. Others I’ve particularly liked include the instalments about Russian Mobilisation and Captured Equipment in Ukraine.

My main source for more immediate updates of what’s happening on the ground is the Institute of War and their daily briefings – here is today’s briefing – with its accompanying interactive map. The briefings are based only on publicly available information from all kinds of sources, including both Russian and Ukrainian ones, rather than any one person’s or group’s speculations. I like its regularity – I can just increment the date in the URL to get the next briefing – and the structured, consistent presentation.