“The time of year, when the make-believe becomes even more stronger than any other time, the angel, the elves, even Santa Claus with his flying reindeer… well, guess it is time to talk a little more about them, those winged beings?“ Gun Roswell
Angels and Elves
They are pretty little things, with wings and yeah, they can totally sing, rather lyrically at that! Some mighty fine tunes, high opera even, their clear voices hitting that very ceiling.
But then there are elves too, those with the rugged looks, with large ears, even beards and such, their outfit certainly doing nothing for their tiny bodies, not like those of the angels, in their nighties shiny!
Still, whatever the ideal looks of these two fictional fractions just bight me, perhaps a little different for all of us, deepening on how much thought there really was spent, thinking of what these beings of fantasy are all about.
Whatever they just might be, the chubby little cherubs of fancy free, it doesn’t really matter, as they are most likely there just for the latter, the fancy and the free, making the home feel festive for the seasonal celebration.
Or then, they just might be real, and we are way too stubborn, them to see.
“It is always warm in the sauna, the temperature close to subtropical, even more so, when pouring water onto the heated stones, the sizzling sounds, the steam, all of it, making it hard to breathe, at least for a moment there, before it all settles and there is nothing more of to care, the ol’ brain having gone all mushy, and isn’t that just blissful!” Gun Roswell.
Take a steam bath, in a lukewarm Sauna
The Finns do love their sauna, there is really nothing there, holding trauma, simply the sense of family and calm, the warmth, water and smells of heated wood, filling the small dark corner of a nook, where the weekly grind will slowly but surely slide, off of any kind of skin, and it’s really not a sin, to just let all the worry go, take things slow, for a moment in time, even if needing to steal the spell, to have for oneself, then becoming one with the cosmos, as the fuzzy steamy atmosphere descends upon the small room, the place which the whole family shares, for just this one fleeting moment, letting go of all, embracing the nothingness and into it fall, until it is time to put another log into the fire, stir the steamy stones and wait for another heatwave to hit.
Happy Independence Day Finland! (established 1917)
“It is pride month again. For those otherwise inclined, not fitting the norm. Some call it pandering, others simply enjoy the appreciation thrown their way.” Gun Roswell
Pride
What does it mean? Really?
It is just having a flag of colour raised up the pole for a duration of thirty days?
Wearing colourful socks or shoes, perhaps a bag of the same colour spectrum?
Being acknowledged at the work place, having pins placed on their lapels, sporting the rainbow colours?
The convenient store around the corner, displaying their pride collection proudly beside the register?
But for me? Personally?
Simply to be me, to exist, just the way I was intended to be
Not to be put in a box, designed by those, who would prefer to do so
I don’t ware any other colours than those, which suit my daily mood
Just because the calendar said so, and wanted me to come out of my home
I have and always will be, simply me
Acceptance or not, I cannot and will not change who I am
And so, alone or together with others daring, I make my stand
Celebrating each and everyday of the year, without fear
And so, tipping my bonnet to those, who chose this time to appreciate us, other folk
But also reminding them all, this month is not the only time we, queer folk, do exist
A day of celebration for most That is why I have made this post To convey all the wishes of best To the mothers where ever they may nest
Life can be a bit of a bitch But today, I hope you will pretty sit Showered with love and devotion At least sent a message with a notion: Of caring so much They wanted to be in touch At least on this special day But then again, it should be that everyday!
So here is my message for you all: Love your mother, mom, mum, what ever you may her call She won’t be around forever So try to make this day for her that much better!
“Another new year in the calendars starts today, a clean slate of sorts” Gun Roswell
A New Year with new resolutions?
Promises were made, just to be broken A New Years resolution was just another token Words without meaning in haste spoken Was I really dreaming or just hoping?
Why then go through this bit? Just because everyone else did So now, trying myself to rid Of this oh so very guilty trip?
It’s only the first day of the year So why do I have this guttural fear Of not being able to complete the deal I made with myself trying towards better to steer?
Maybe, just maybe give some slack And try to good intentions most of this stack As I am looking towards the future, take a few steps back Do what I can, and the rest, well only my best to do, then relax
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” Charles Dickens
A Christmas Tale of sorts or as it goes: Can I have some Figgy Puddin’, please?
The year was 1845. I was about ten years of age and working as a stable girl. Our family lived and worked in Lord Hamilton’s manor house. It was Christmas time and as a gift for the servants, the Lord arranged a feast for the staff and their families.
Mommy had the children dressed in their Sunday best. My two brothers were complaining about the stiffness of the shirts. Starch was itchy and could cause rash, especially if one scratched the itch. I had my favourite dress on and my younger sister was a bit jealous of the red and green colouring. She was wearing a plain blue coloured hand me down.
After all the fuzz and hassle with the wardrobe, the whole family was finally set to go to the main house and start with the Christmas dinner. Us servants would be dining in the large kitchen. Several long tables were brought in with extra seats as well. This wasn’t a large household. With around fifteen servants and their families, well not all had children and spouses, all in all around sixty people in total crammed around the tables. The two cooks had had their hands full with the preparations and naturally every one that could had chipped in.
But now it was time for celebration. Everyone was finally sitting down and getting quiet. After grace the noise level rose again. Food containers were passed around and everyone was filling their respective plates. After all, it wasn’t often we got to eat in this manner and variety.
After a while, everyone had cleared their plates and it was time for dessert. My favourite was the Figgy Pudding. If possible I opted for seconds. As I got my plate of the delicious substance before me, I licked my lips and dug into it with gusto. It did not take too long for the food to disappear from my plate.
My mom looked at me with a smirk. I looked back at her and passing my bowl I asked: “Is there any Figgy Puddin’ left?”
I was smiling widely, feeling exhilarated, when the bowl was passed back to me with an other helping.
When the final bits were eaten, it was time for the traditional sing along. The farmhand brought out his accordion and after the first few tunes, we all joined in. The evening was spent singing, chatting and finally picking up the tables. We all went back to our dwellings, thanking the Lord for the special meal.
I tried to learn the Finnish language, which is really, really, really hard, and I realized that if I want to really learn it, I just need to figure out the swear words first, because those, are totally effective” Gun Roswell
Our Land (national anthem)
Oh Our Land Finland Fatherland Echo Loudly Golden Word No Valley No Hill No Water Shore More Dear Than This Northern Homeland This Precious Land Of Our Fathers No Valley No Hill No Water Shore More Dear Than This Northern Homeland This Precious Land Of Our Fathers One Day From Your Bud You Will Bloom From Our Love Shall Rise Your Hope Glorious Joy And Once Your Song Fatherland Higher Still Will Ring From Our Love Shall Rise Your Hope Glorious Joy And Once Your Song Fatherland Higher Still Will Ring
Rantings Of A Third Kind 