The neighbours diagonally across the crossing have sold half of their plot, for another house to be built there. Today the new owners started work. Trees are being removed and I guess they’re evening out the ground. The first photo is from two days ago, the second is from today.

The two large oaks are protected, though, and will remain.

There’s not much space there. I’ve seen the drawings from when the whole thing was approved by the municipality and I know that it is technically possible to fit a house there, but they’re going to be very close to their neighbours. I get it – if you can earn a few millions by giving up half your garden, then it’s probably hard to say no. I’m kind of glad that it is impossible to do so with our garden.

Gardens always shrink with time, and houses always grow. Nobody buys their neighbour’s house, only to tear it down and extend their garden. And nobody ever knocks down the extension to their house.

I was today years old when I learned the best way to warm butter to room temperature. Well, not technically today but a few weeks ago, but still, almost.

I’ve always used the microwave, because I never plan far enough ahead to take the butter out a few hours ahead and let it just warm on its own. The microwave method isn’t too bad, but it’s a bit tricky, because if you go even 10 seconds too far then the butter starts melting.

My brother taught me to instead put the butter in a bowl with lukewarm water. 10 minutes later, pour off the water, and you’re done. No tricky timing whatsoever! So much easier.

Today (actually today, for real) I discovered that there’s a bonus effect: if you then start e.g. creaming the butter with sugar in the same bowl, the thin layer of water helps keep the butter from sticking to the bowl, which makes for less butter on the sides of the bowl and more of it where you actually want it.

Any piece of cloth on a raised surface is a cat bed.

A kitchen towel on the kitchen table. A half-knitted cardigan on a sofa table. A pile of snow pants in a basket in the hall. A basket of newly folded t-shirts, or a pile of unwashed sheets in the laundry room.

It doesn’t even need to be cloth – even a newspaper will do, in a pinch.

Anything, that is, except an actual cat bed. I bought one for Nysse before we got him, and he didn’t use it even once. I ended up giving it away to a charity shop.

Eric was re-sanding and re-oiling the kitchen table. It’s not as moisture-resistant as it could be.

Nysse was watching his movements, almost as if he was hypnotized and couldn’t turn his gaze away. There’s something about rapid, repetitive movements back and forth that just captivates him. His head goes back and forth, and he looks like he’s about to pounce any moment.

A full-day workshop at work, about “brave conversations”, i.e. conversations that are difficult but that you choose to have anyway, such as giving people feedback. Lots of introspection and interesting discussions.

My cardigan-to-be looks like a geometry puzzle, not like a cardigan-to-be. Like a middle school maths problem, where you get two measurements and have to calculate all the rest, or something.

A day in the office is a day of commuting.

Much of the Stockholm metro system is very photogenic.

Bleh. Snow again. Isn’t it time for spring yet?

Nysse went out yesterday afternoon, wandered off all the way to Spånga centre with Ingrid and a bunch of her friends, then darted off into some bushes – and didn’t come back. It was past midnight when I gave up waiting for him and went to bed. He’s never been gone overnight before.

I woke up twice during the night and checked for him, and when morning came, I was fully expecting him to sit behind the French doors, looking annoyed, waiting to be let in for breakfast. But he wasn’t there.

We’d all been out looking for him by now, and were getting really worried. Had he been run over? Gotten lost? Been taken by someone? He’d never voluntarily miss a meal.

I kept the French doors ajar all day so that he’d definitely be able to get in whenever he turned up, even if I happened to be in a meeting. The house was cold, and felt even colder than it physically was.

Just as I had finished designing a “have you seen this cat” poster for Eric to print out, Nysse finally turned up – at 16:30 in the afternoon, a full 24 hours after he went out. He ran straight for the food bowl, and then was extra clingy and contact-seeking all evening.

Our best guess is that he got distracted by Ingrid & her friends, didn’t pay attention to where he was going, and then couldn’t find his way back home. Whatever it was, we are very relieved that he turned up.

The flashback feature at the top of the blog showed me that I’ve taken photos of liverwort/hepatica flowers around this time of the year in the past, so when we had a weekend with decent weather, we went out walking and I took the macro lens with me. Looks like we’re too early for them, though – when Eric spotted the first ones and Adrian found me more, they were all still in buds. Which didn’t come as a surprise: the roadside ditches in the woods were still solid ice and the ground was frozen through in most places. We’ll have to go out again next week for more photos.