Today. The road back to the city was slippery from all the melting snow.

– – –

Some street art wisdom.

There is a mosquito flying around in the house. I wonder: How on earth has it managed to stay alive for so long? We’re almost halfway through January already.

Can someone tell me why I can’t design patterns and knit for a living? With a little baking of cakes on the side? It makes me so calm.

Of course, I know why. For starters, I would be bored out of my mind within a week.

Argh. I hate my mind sometimes.

Ben, the coolest guy in my grade when I went to school in Tanzania, told me once that thinking builds character. Yes, he spoke to me (though I had no idea why, I wasn’t the most chatty type, nor particularly cool, back in those early teen days), and yes, he was a pretty smart guy, despite his very high popularity factor. It made a strong impression on me, him saying that thinking builds character. As you can see, I still remember it.

And it definitely does. What he left out, though, was that thinking also makes life very complicated. And hard. The instant gratification of designing a pretty knitting pattern just doesn’t do it for me, not in the long run. Not for longer than a couple of days at a time.

Tomorrow, I have to leave this place and face my complicated reality. And that is what will fulfill me in the end. Not these mittens. Even if they are pretty.

Today, the snow is storming. Dad called and said that I probably shouldn’t go out driving today, just to be safe. What with the slipperiness and bad visibility and all.

No problem for me. I hadn’t  planned to go out anyway. I’m busy writing.

Later: It’s pitch black outside. I’m designing a new pair of mittens. I’m so excited.

There are loud thumps outside. At first, I couldn’t tell what they were and I thought: Maybe there’s a ghost? I’ve been watching too much Buffy.

I then realized that it was the heavy snow falling off the roof. So much for snow storms. I’m sure the world will be just at gray as before when I wake up tomorrow.

The sun was shining today, but mostly I’ve been sitting on the couch, writing.

I went out for a short walk, though, down to the lake. It was just below freezing, I think, because there was frost on the ground, and the ice on the lake was not shiny.

There were sounds, of water moving underneath. Carried across the lake, growing and shrinking. Sometimes sudden, loud, cracks, clanging bells. At others, long and soft, like a mellow, wintry song.

I’ve been working more or less all day. But I haven’t gotten much done. I’m still waiting for focus to arrive.

While doing fieldwork in Ouahigouya, I got this urge to drive. The freedom, I guess, and being so physically in control. I started planning a trip to the cottage for as soon as I was back in Sweden, for rest and concentration, an article reading retreat, if you will – but mostly because I wanted the chance to drive.

So when all the have-to’s were dealt with in Stockholm, I took Anna’s car and drove the 85 kilometers south to Hundby. Oh, the joy of driving. As an environmentalist, I’m ashamed to admit this, but I really love it. I think my next holiday will be a road trip.

And then getting off the highway, turning into the mosaic landscape that is Södermanland – fields, small hills, lone houses, meadows with horses, villages and lakes. And the forests. Standing, like a wall next to the road, the conifers dark and ominous, the oaks, aspen and birches bare. The density similar to that in the rain forest in Ghana, but the colors so different. That there are so many versions to the concept of forest. It’s amazing.

When I arrived at the cottage, dark was just about to fall and it was so quiet. I lit a fire and made dinner, wrote a little and watched a movie. And then sitting, with a glass of whiskey, looking into the flames. I can’t see a single thing outside the windows. This house is like a tiny little universe, and outside – a dark nothingness. There are no sounds, except for the fire, and my fingers on the keyboard.

If this is a good idea, I do not know. I always have this longing for seclusion and quiet, for being allowed to focus without distractions. But sometimes, these perfect ideas of ours don’t pan out the way we plan. We’ll just have to see, I guess.

I decided to have a slow start to my spring semester. I started by visiting the city library – I really shouldn’t go there, though. I lose all self-restraint. Then I took the bus to the SRC to say hi to Roweena. Hanna, Lara and Miriam were also there.

Sitting in the master’s cave, watching darkness fall over the oak tree outside, listening to the others working – it felt nice. I was reading the introductions to my new library books: Den nya kvinnostaden, Ghana must go and A walk in the woods. And I thought: if I went upstairs to get tea, and someone came down and only saw the books on the desk, they would have no problem guessing it was me that was back. Swedish and English, feminist, popular science and history, African, a novel, smart humor and travel stories.

Then, to the Geoscience building. I had no access to the computer lab, which means I will have to renew my card. I sat in the lunch room for a moment, feeling at home. I didn’t recognize a single face, though. There’s a completely new generation there now.

One week on the beach in Ghana wasn’t enough, okay. I was still exhausted, so I:

spent most of my time in bed, either sleeping or catching up on all the TV shows that I had gotten behind with while in West Africa (Parenthood, New Girl, The Good Wife, The Mindy Project, and so forth)

indulged in food (crisps, ice cream, oranges, green peas, cheese, blue cheese, rice cakes with lots of butter on, chocolate, rice porridge)

did some hanging out with friends and family, the few that were actually in town (Lina, of course, couldn’t really avoid her, now, could I … moving and game night at Pontus’ with Natalia, Magnus and Sebastian, late Christmas dinner with dad, stepmom, Aron, Ellen and Kai) – as for the rest, I’ll just have to see them gradually, when they get back into town

finished Vivi’s mittens, the ones I started working on during the coup d’état in Burkina

That’s it, for my activities the first week of this year.

I celebrated New Years Eve with the old gang. The people from high school, you know, Cecilia and Klas and Johan, etcetera. First, there was the dinner, only for the specially invited. The day before, when trying to decide what to wear, I had looked over the guest list and realized two things. One: Out of 19 guests, me and four others were the only people not bringing a partner. And two: out of all the people I knew on the list (that is, everyone except the new partners), only I and three others  were still studying. As for everyone else, they had all graduated and were now working as engineers, dentists, teachers, lawyers, physiotherapists and child psychologists.

The thought of going to a party in that company completely drained me, and I didn’t feel like going at all. I guess I feel like I’m kind of behind, among my old high school peers. But I went, and it turned out to be a nice party. They are all still my friends, just with new things to do in the weeks. It was hosted by Elin, and she lives in a shared student apartment in Gamla Stan. The old town is always a nice place to be.

To the after-dinner-party, Natalia came, and both my last hours of 2014 and my first hours of 2015 was spent with her. Just like last New Years. Incredible person. I might have had one too many gin and tonics, because I can’t completely tell the events of the night apart, but I remember: drinking Prosecco down by the docks with Natalia and her boyfriend Magnus at midnight, getting my New Years Kiss from Natalia, discussing Burkinabe politics with Magnus and some other random dudes in an Old Town basement, dancing with Cecilia and Natalia, having a really surreal conversation with an ex-date of mine, who, by the way, didn’t know anyone at the party and therefore had crashed it. Weird guy. I was also given a cheeseburger by Isak. He had bought one each for him and Cecilia, and they were standing in the basement hallway about to eat them when I walked past. He offered his cheeseburger to me, with the statement: “It’s the only one I have, but do you want it? That’s how much I like you.” He always knows how to melt my cold, rational heart. I took a bite, and then I gave it back to him. Officially, I’m not a carnivore anymore, after all.

I was one of the last people to leave the party, together with Natalia, Magnus, Cecilia and Isak, and it was already six-thirty in the morning when I finally crashed into bed. Quite a start to the new year, I must say.

I went to the doctor, to get tested for stomach parasites. Just to be safe.

I’m indulging in food and TV shows.

The darkness is disorienting. I have not come back to the Nordic countries in winter for fourteen years, and never after a more than two months stay in the tropics. I do not mind the northern winter darkness in general, I never have, but it’s the suddenness. Not being eased into it during an entire autumn. My body doesn’t know what to do about all this sleep that my brain is telling it to engage in.

It will take some getting used to, the winter.