2017.10.22: Life is Full

I learned this week that I wasn’t saying that “My life is full” in the best way. I was saying, “Mitt liv är upptagen,” which—I now understand—relays a sense of occupied, like a restroom is occupied. At first, it was recommend that I say, “Mitt liv är stressad,” yes, stressed. But I said that I wasn’t really stressed, just busy. So, the phrase is now, “Jag har mycket att göra,” or I have much to do. (Though sometimes, saying that I am stressed would be an appropriate response.)

Last weekend, I accepted a couple social invitations. On Saturday morning, Anya and I went to see our friend’s daughter’s ice skating competition. It was great to support her.

Afterwards, we went out for fika with another couple, Donna and Lennart, and then Anya went with Donna to a special yarn store.

Last Sunday, I went with Donna and her goddaughter to Österbybruk, which is about 1.5 hours north–a beautiful drive on a sunny fall afternoon. This small city was a bustling ironwork area since King Gustav Vasa (think military armaments for the 30-years war) through much of the 20th century. They had an early Christmas fair with over 80 vendors selling handcrafts and artisan foods, including cheese, chocolate, jams, and smoked salmon. The free samples were great!

The manor house also had many artisan booths, but here are pictures of the outside.

A few other features of our visit:

Other fall images of Uppsala:

In October 9th’s posting, I told of the sewage back up into the Johannelund basement. I since have learned that there the lowest part filled up with sewage 80 centimeters (31 inches) deep! All week, there were workers ripping out all the damaged things: furnishings, walls, flooring, etc. The dumpsters were piling up.

At times, the smell was horrible in the hallways. We kept classroom and office door closed to keep the smell out. The smell is much better, but it still lingers.

So, the chaos went into crazy proportions. There was already stuff going on with a remodeling project, such that our entrances looks like this in September:

The changes are not only physical. On the 11th, there was an announcement regarding our rektor, Kjell (like a president and academic dean combined). He works 50% here and 50% as a professor of history at Linköping University (LU), 3.5 hours to the southwest by train, where Kjell lives. LU told him that Kjell has to decide to either work at LU 100% or leave. So, Kjell has asked the faculty at Johannelund if we want him to stay. These important conversations are in Swedish, which makes it more frustrating.

This past Thursday, I was headed to Västerås, about 1.5 hours west of Uppsala by bus. I was biking to the bus station when a group of about 5 teenage guys were walking out of the grocery store by the station. It is a little plaza, but there is a clearly marked bike path down the middle. However, one of the guys was walking backwards while he was chatting with his friends, and he didn’t see that he was walking right into the bike lane. I had slowed down in this busy area, and I tried to ring my bell, but with my big winter gloves, I couldn’t get traction on the bell. So, I ended up in a controlled fall to avoid missing him. I don’t know if he realized what happened or just tried to ignore that he caused a problem, as he walked on with his buddies. Fortunately, two others stopped and asked me if I was OK. Yes, I wasn’t hurt badly, but I did come away with a big bruise on my ankle. I was so glad that I had my shearling boots on that have thick leather and wool padding. Otherwise, I would have been really hurting. (Yes, I wear a helmet.)

At night, as I rolled into bed, I discovered a sore hip. So, one more—though smaller—bruise. My back is a little tender too, so perhaps that is from the fall.

The adult ed class at Västerås went well. I sat with 4 Syrian refugees during the supper time. We are all working on learning Swedish, but of course, they are here with horrible stories of fleeing war. But this church is providing a warm welcome and a caring community. There is a significant portion of the Syrians who come from Christian backgrounds, and one had a beautiful cross that he wore prominently. In Sweden, wearing a cross is a faith statement, neither a tradition nor a decoration. I really enjoyed experiencing this vibrant church.

Last week, my mother was moved from the rehabilitation center into a nursing facility. Fortunately, there was an opening in a facility that is close to dad. One sister was there to help with a week of work, and another sister is there continuing with the support. I’m trying to figure out if I change my flight after a mid-November conference in Boston to visit and help too. It would be a bit complicated on this side with some meetings and classes to accommodate, so I’m waiting for wisdom from my sister who is there now. I do plan to visit after New Years as well.

Oh, I almost forgot (really). My book came from the publisher. One coworker asked me about buying one and providing a receipt. I had to think about how to do this, because I didn’t think anyone would actually want to buy one at $85! I suggested that he just borrow the one that I will donate to the library. Yet, he was persistent, so I’ll figure out a receipt.

With blessings,

Beth