Sometimes I happen to see one of those articles or blog posts about people who sell 90% of their stuff and move into a camper van or a tiny cottage or a river boat, and then live a minimalist life there, and evangelise about how happy it has made them.

Now I am not particularly fond of “stuff” and I can easily imagine having less of it and being happy about it. And I can imagine living happily in fewer and smaller rooms than we currently have. But a small kitchen? Never! Cooking in a cramped kitchen is frustrating and takes most of the joy out of cooking. A large sink is a must, as is a large cutting board, and enough counter space for both the cutting board and all the ingredients and utensils around it. And enough space around the kitchen table so that one can walk around people sitting there without squeezing.

I finally had a haircut today.

It might not look like there’s much of a difference. That was Eric’s reaction at least. Short hair, shorter hair… But the difference is in the details. I no longer have to tuck outgrown hair behind my ears, and my neckline is clean.

The apple tree has been dropping apples. I thought that meant it was time to pick them all, but when we tried doing that, most of the fruit still on the tree turned out to be not at all ripe yet – all greenish and stuck hard to the branch.

We did pick the ripe ones on the ground though, and they were plenty. The pile in the photo is just a small part of today’s harvest. Some were a bit bruised, but since the ground is soft and padded with grass (what a great excuse to not mow the lawn there!) we also found many that were unblemished and in perfect shape.

Ingrid and I went shopping for scout gear and for clothes. Somehow she has managed to lose her waterproofs and outgrow all sorts of things. How nice it is to be adult and not have to buy clothes or shoes only because you outgrew the (perfectly functional and not even worn-out) previous ones.

I amused myself with my camera and the fitting room mirrors while Ingrid was trying on clothes.

Ingrid is programming a game in Scratch. It doesn’t always behave the way she wants. How well I recognize the feeling that I see on her face.

The pack still stands in the corner, still packed. Waiting for better times.

I am attempting to reboot some of my habits and practices.

I’m back from a very, very relaxing four-day hike. Four days of solitude, simplicity, exercise and nature did wonders to my well-being. But as soon as I was approaching civilization, I could feel my stress levels going up again.

Schedules. Deadlines. Obligations.

Crowds. Noise.

The mountains weren’t always silent – the wind could be quite loud – but they were quiet in a way that most modern life never is. I could hear myself think. Or not think. Then I got on the train back, and around me there were all these people. Talking all the time. Couldn’t they just all shut up, I found myself thinking. I hadn’t realized until that moment just how much good four days of silence had done me.

Unfortunately I cannot see how I could make my life much quieter than it is. People at work need to be able to talk to me, after all, and so does my family. One thing I can do is be more disciplined about regularly getting silent time. I need to schedule solo hikes at least once a month or so. My need of being out in nature has been clear to me for some while, but I hadn’t quite understood how much difference being alone makes. Family hikes are fun in their own way, but they don’t recharge my batteries the same way at all.

I also need to do something about the stress I feel from a boxed-in, deadline-driven, context-switching rush to keep up with my daily obligations – while trying to find time to get everything else done in the gaps between them. The kids need shoes and clothes and scout equipment, and they deserve birthday parties and gifts, and we have a kitchen that has been half-finished for seven years now, and my cardigans have holes at the elbows but I have no time to look for new ones, and my umbrella is broken, and I haven’t had a haircut since June, and there’s just no end.

Today I had an hour alone at home and I used it to get all those musts down on paper. The immense length of the list is more tangible now, but at least I know it is no longer than it is. I can let go of trying to remember them all and focus on doing something about them.

With musts filling so much of my waking hours, there are only little bits and pieces left for wants. There are wants – such as reading for example, and blogging – that I can mostly satisfy in half an hour here and half an hour there. But the bigger wants, such as those solo hikes, or intentionally practicing photography, just cannot be squeezed into such small spaces. I need to figure out a way to block out time for them, regardless of the effect that will have on that list of musts.

I am also rebooting my daily posting here. I never caught up after the breaks in posting during summer, and I am almost three weeks behind. Instead of constantly struggling to catch up and never getting there, I am starting over today. There, I’m all caught up! And maybe I’ll manage to fill in the gap later.

Lunndörren to Vålådalen, 12 km. Today was a short day because I had a bus to catch in the afternoon.

Heading north, mostly through forest and across small bogs. Steadily downhill all the day, which made for an easy walk. Quite soon I left winter behind me and was back in an autumn forest. Pleasant but quite unexciting after the past few days’ dramatic experiences.

Near the end of my hike, where the trail crosses Vålå river, I got to try an experimental ropeway. Normal bridges are expensive to build and risk getting damaged or swept away by ice and high waters. A ropeway hangs higher up and is therefore less likely to be caught in a flood.

It worked well enough but dragging me and my pack and the “basket” across was hard work and took about ten times longer than walking across. Given a choice between this and a normal bridge, I’d rather walk, but if the choice is between this and wading then I’ll take the ropeway.

Ropeway on the left, bridge on the right:

Day trip from Lunndörren to Pyramiderna / Issjön / Grönvallen, 18 km.

The snow caught up with me here today.

I wasn’t planning to be here and didn’t really have a plan for the day. I need to be back at Vålådalen by the end of tomorrow, and there are no huts within reach of a day’s hike of here and Vålådalen. So I did a day trip. The hut host had some day trip proposals and I picked one that did not involve going higher up.

Issjödalen was supposed to be this beautiful valley, the highlight of this route. I saw nearly nothing of it since I had the wind in my face and was keeping my head down and just plodding along. Quite definitely the least enjoyable part of today, and of this entire hike. I was glad when it was over. This is my only photo from this section of the hike and the only way to get it was to turn around and face backwards, away from the wind.

As long as I wasn’t in a wind tunnel, the hiking was good. It was still windy, of course – the photos look quiet but reality was anything but. My clothes were flapping and the wind was whining around my hood all the time.

Today was not at all what I had in mind, but definitely memorable. There is something about hiking in challenging weather conditions that appeals to me in a way I cannot really explain.

The day felt almost unreal. Emptiness and snow all around me; the paths all hidden by snow and no people or even footprints to be seen. I could almost pretend that I was alone in the world.

The world consisted of three colours: white, gray, and the gold of birch leaves.