The usually-annual post-Christmas party with the extended family, that we could actually have this year. I wasn’t in the mood for photography so there’s just the one, of Ingrid folding napkins.

Yesterday’s midday sun throwing shadows off the gravel on the street.

Look, it’s the sun!

Clear skies for the first time in a long while, at the right time of the day, combined with a long, straight stretch of empty space in the right geographical orientation.

The year 2021 passed under the sign of the coronavirus pandemic, just like the one before it. The restrictions and quarantine measures are starting to feel normal in a way, but also to chafe and bother me. My brain is growing dull from lack of stimuli. I’ve never had such low energy and activity levels as I did this year. Last year I cared about infection and mortality rates; now I maybe look at some high-level curves occasionally. (Current situation: cases close to reaching last winter’s peak levels, death rates low and flat, largely due to a high number of vaccinations.)

This year we have vaccines, at least, of several brands and several types. They were made available gradually, starting with the elderly and other at-risk parts of the population and then gradually to younger age groups. I got my first dose in June and the second in August. Currently the age cut-off is at 12 years so even Ingrid got her first dose in autumn.

Covid tests are also widely available, both rapid at-home tests for verifying you are not infected despite having no symptoms, and lab tests for verifying infection in case you do have symptoms.

None of us in the family have had covid-19 as far as we know.

I’ve been working from home all year. Restrictions on contact and movement were lighter in October and November, so I spent one to two days in the offices (either at Urb-it or at tretton37) but then it was back to full time work-from-home again.

I find it hard to remain focused in all the online meetings so I knit to help keep my brain busy during the slower parts. I’ve knit a total of eleven pairs of socks this year, nine for myself and two for others.

In other work-related events, I moved on to a new customer assignment in the beginning of the year, at Urb-it, a sustainable urban logistics company. It took half a year before I even met my colleagues IRL.

Both Urb-it and tretton37 managed to have Christmas parties at least, which is more than we got last year, and tretton37 even squeezed in a conference before the restrictions were tightened again.

Nearly no travelling this year, just like last year. We went for a three-day hike in Tiveden, and I hiked the first few sections of Kuststigen. Missed our annual ski trip, and our annual Estonia trip, as well as my annual ski tour.

You can tell that a year is eventless when I can remember every single time we went to the cinema, and count these on the fingers of a single hand. The latest James Bond movie, Dune, and the latest Matrix movie. There wasn’t much more of other culture either – during the more relaxed months of autumn, we saw the musical Forever Piaf, and two dance performances (one, two).

Schools for Ingrid’s and Adrian’s age groups mostly worked as normal, with classroom instruction rather than distance learning, so they both had normal years. There are very strict rules in place about any respiratory symptoms, though, so they both need to stay at home for the smallest cough or sniffle. Both were at home for over a week in December, and at some point just over a third of their classmates were actually in school. Many missed school hours there.

In other news: at the end of the year, a week before Christmas, we got a cat. Swedish has a new word, coronahund, meaning “a dog people get due to staying at home because of covid restrictions”. I guess Nysse is a covid cat in a way. I made friends with a Morris, a neighbourhood cat, during all my days at home. I started wishing that he were around more, and the kids, especially Ingrid, have been asking for a pet for a long time already. So after a few months I decided it would make sense to have a cat of our own. According to one source, 30% of the owners of “corona dogs” have no plan what to do with the dog when the pandemic ends. I intend to keep working from home and it is very unlikely that I would ever go back to working full time in an office, so Nysse is not among them. (Plus he’s a cat, not a dog.)

Nysse has been showing some interest in the world outside the house and giving off signals that he might want to go there. We don’t feel comfortable letting him out on his own yet, so we thought try a leashed walk. We’ve made a few attempts, and he hasn’t been a huge fan.

The first step is getting him into the harness. This is effortless sometimes, and involves claws and teeth at other times. I’m less intimidated by the sharp bits than I used to be.

The first time we went out, he nearly panicked. He fled and hid under the stairs. When I tried to get him out, he got himself out of the harness and bolted right back to the door.

The second time we went out through the French doors because I thought this side might be more familiar and less scary, since he often sits there and looks out. We actually walked all the way down to the street, but Nysse really didn’t understand how the leash works and kept trying to run and take long leaps, so it was uncomfortable for both of us. We didn’t stay outside for more than a few minutes.

Today was the third time. Front door again, since he was poking his nose out when Ingrid and I went outside yesterday. This time we never even left the porch. He looked around for a few minutes but seemed to feel uncomfortable, and started nosing at the door very quickly.

Four roe deer had a dance party in the garden today, chasing and jumping after each other. They were difficult to photograph.

We had a white Christmas, barely, with grass poking through the thin snow. All of that is gone now and we are having a very slippery and wet New Year’s Eve. The snow is melting but ground is still mostly frozen so there is nowhere for the water to go. The sloping, hilly streets of the old parts of Spånga are mostly ice-free, but the parks are difficult.

I actually had a wish list for Christmas this year, with a single thing on it: I wished for Ingrid to paint a picture for me.

We have two large emptyish walls, and I’ve never found any picture that I’ve felt strongly enough about to want to put there. I was thinking of ordering a Chinese reproduction of some famous painting, and even had an actual shortlist. Then I realized that I have an artist right here in the house, who could make an original work for me, which would be so much more special. Ingrid kindly obliged. I couldn’t be happier with the result.

The wall had been empty for years. Now that there is one painting there, it’s kind of asking for more, isn’t it? Perhaps I can wish for another painting for my birthday.

We took Nystagmus to a vet clinic for a vaccination top-up, and for some weight and diet advice.

The vaccination he didn’t even notice. As for his weight, it turns out that he’s just a little bit overweight, not as much as he looks – his belly pouch is bigger than average, for a cat of his age, and makes him look fatter than he is. But he could still do with a little less fat around his ribs. So we’ll keep feeding him as we have been, and following up his weight.

The trip was also good crate training. Nysse doesn’t mind his crate at all, actually jumps in voluntarily, but he mewled quite pitifully when we started driving. His last trip must have been a bit traumatizing, with being uprooted from his home and taken to a new one. I guess he feared something similar might happen this time. Hopefully we can teach him that crates and car rides don’t have to be bad things.