Category Archives: Random musings

Day 4: Proekt 365

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Day 4: Proekt 365 My first finished object for 2014. It will not be the last.

Day 4: Proekt 365
My first finished object for 2014. It will not be the last.

What on earth did I do before a friend re-introduced me to the world of knitting and other needlecrafts a few years ago? Has it really only been three years since I picked up a pair of needles and dove into the fine fibre world of k2, p3*?

It’s hard to believe, but, yes, just 3 years ago my friend Brad (who lives in Amsterdam with his fabulous husband and bestest of hounds, Rusty) talked of knitting, and I asked if he’d be willing to show me how at some point. At the time, I was quite stressed and thought it might be a way to re-focus my mind, whilst also providing a creative outlet. It had been years since I’d knit anything and I never really finished a project. I was more of a happy hooker in my youth (minds out of the gutter, please!). In an incredibly kind gesture, Brad gave me a set of bamboo needles and provided a bit of instruction and inspiration just before / after New Year’s Eve 2010-11.

Little did we know….

When I returned to Helsinki after that New Year’s trip with my husband, I found a group of expat women in Helsinki who are a part of the American Women’s Club in Finland and who meet regularly to knit, crochet, craft and generally support and help one another. Not only did I get some incredibly helpful guidance on knitting, but I’ve also and perhaps more importantly forged lifelong friendships with quite a few talented, brilliant and exceptionally kind women.  I honestly don’t know how I’d have mentally and emotionally survived these past several years without knitting, but more specifically without the friends I’ve made through my crafting journey.

Knitting has also reminded me of one of the most amazing women I’ve ever been fortunate enough to have in my life — my grandmother. Katharine ‘Babe’ Louise Baring Fuller was not only one of the wittiest and strongest of women I’ve ever known, she was incredibly gifted with a rare and precious talent.

Born and raised (in Texas) at time when women’s roles were very much different to today, and when skills such as sewing and crafting were expected rather than honed as luxurious hobbies, she took her craft seriously. When I was a young girl, she taught me the fine skill of touching and feeling fabrics before looking at labels to determine quality and fibre content. When working on a particular craft, she demonstrated how patience is just as important as technique — if you rush a project, you’re likely to mistakes no matter how skilled you are (which is a lesson that transcends all of life it seems, and one which has taken a long, long time to finally learn).

In addition to her random acts of silliness and infectious laugh, I will forever recall how zen-like she was when crafting. She was an expert seamstress who made her own clothes and whose sewing ‘station’ I would do just about anything to have now. Sewing for her was more a matter of necessity since she was so, so tiny and petite sizes were rarely if ever an option. We would browse the latest fashions  on offer at Saks and Neiman’s and then she would go buy the fabric and make it herself. Her skills were impressive then; but, I am even more in awe of her now that I understand just what goes into making one’s own clothes without a pattern. She was incredible.

But, her real artistry and talent was most visible in her needlepoint. From the very large Christmas stockings with images and scenes matching the passions and personalities of each family member she made one year to the various throw pillows around the house and pictures of idyllic scenes on the walls of every family member’s home, the woman was absolutely gifted. Her work was impeccably perfect and each viewing reveals further details that were all of her own design. Needlepoint mesh was her canvas, and she painted with passion through her needles and thread.

The image of her sitting serenely in her love seat surrounded by the tools of her craft with a look of utter solace and complete focus and joy as she worked is forever burned into my consciousness. Zen and the Art of Needlecraft, I say. And, it’s master is and always shall be Grandma.

Whilst I wish that I could share my projects with her now, it comforts me to feel as though I’m carrying on her legacy. (I’d say big shoes to fill, but the woman had incredibly tiny feet!) It may be a different type of needle and thread (although she did knit and crochet as well), I know she’d be proud and it gives me no small measure of joy to know that at least some of her talent seems to have made its way to me.

She’d also find all those various dropped stitches, and totally understand and relate to my quest for perfection in everything I knit or craft.

Knitting has given me infinitely more than I ever expected. I can’t imagine a day that didn’t include some form of crafting even if for a few stolen moments. From knitting to crochet to quilting or sewing, each stitch reminds me of the friends it has brought my way as well as how it connects me to my beloved grandmother. As if all of that wasn’t enough, it has also brought me an unusual form of mediation and a few lovely pairs of socks, scarves, hats and blankets to ward off the winter chill.

For all of this and infinitely more, I am immeasurably grateful. (Thank you, thank you, thank you, Brad and all the Helsinki Knittas!)

*k2, p3 refers to ‘knit 2 stitches, purl 3 stitches’, for those not in the know. 😉

Day 2: Proekt 365

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Day 2: Proekt 365 reminder that my

Day 2: Proekt 365 

We don’t do holiday / birthday gifts much in our house. Rather than fret about and participate in the commercialisation of various holidays and occasions, we tend to buy random gifts when we see them and as ways of surprising one another and ‘spend’ those holidays / occasions just being together and without the pressure of the ‘perfect gift’. Nothing is truly a Christmas, birthday, anniversary, [insert occasion of choice] gift. Instead, they are random acts of love and appreciation throughout the year.

Today, the latest gift from my darling husband arrived and I LOVE it. Why? Well, it’s bloody gorgeous and bright and cheerful, and from one of my favourite clothing lines — Desigual. But, mostly, it shows just how much my husband loves me and accepts me for me.

One of the last things I truly need is another handbag / messenger bag / bag of any sort. There are no less than 6 hanging from the back of my chair (which is where I keep the ones I use most often and switch between most frequently), 3 more in my desk (mostly for carrying my laptop), and then who knows how many in my closet. I definitely do not need another handbag. At all.

But, I desperately wanted this one when I saw it. It’s big, but not too big. It’s bright and pretty. And, it has just enough pockets and compartments both within and outside. Easy access to various bits is key in picking out any handbag. Plus, it is slightly expandable for when I decide I must carry just a little bit more. And, as if it needed anything else, it has a great big embroidered butterfly on the front. (I love butterflies of all sorts.)

I could have bought it for myself, and was planning on doing so. But, The Cuban decided that he would beat me to pulling the shopping cart trigger and bought it for me. Why? Because he loves me, and he knew it’d make me smile.

Smiling, I am. And, I shall definitely smile frequently whilst using this lovely, lovely gift from the person most important to me. Thank you, Sweet Pea! And, I promise, I won’t want a new bag for at least a few months! 🙂

Farewell, 2013! Hello, 2014!

by in Everyday Life, holidays, Inspiration, Random musings and tagged , | Leave a comment

One year ago, my hopes and wishes for 2013 were simple enough: secure residence permits for my husband and I in a single country (not as easy as you’d think) and secure steady work for the both of us after a few difficult and lean years.

One year on, we can happily mark both of those wishes as fulfilled. And, that ain’t nothing.

This year has been such an incredible roller coaster. As we say ‘farewell’ to 2013, our hopes for 2014 are again simple. Perhaps that’s as it should be. Along with ambitions and resolutions to improve our health and be fitter, eat better and waste less, and to be better, kinder humans, what we actually work towards is rather simple: a life worth living; friends and family with whom we can share the good, the bad and the mundane; contributing to a better and more humane world even if it is on an infinitely small scale; and an occasional moment of ‘wow!’ thrown in just because we all deserve those.

Upon reflection, 2013 brought incredibly great tidings to us. For that and all the many things for which we are fortunate we are grateful and thankful, especially to all those individuals in our life who helped and supported us during several tumultuous and uncertain years, and through a residency permit battle which was epic. Despite the disappointments and heartbreak that are inevitably a part of life, it hasn’t been a completely shitty year.

Now, for 2014. Twenty-fourteen!

May it be a year filled with more joy than sadness, more hope than fear, more gratitude than disappointment, more kindness than strife and more understanding and compassion than disinterest. May it be filled with health and great food, and may you and yours enjoy inspiration in whatever you do and all that you do.

Happy New Year, y’all! С Новым Годом! Feliz Año Nuevo! Onnellista Uutta Vuotta! Gott Nytt År!

What we are taught, part 2

by in Children, Current events, Education, Justice, Random musings, Sexual & Reproductive Health & Rights (SRHR), women and tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Over breakfast one morning when I was maybe 14 or 15 years old, my grandfather advised me to ‘keep [my] knees together’. To this day, I have no idea what prompted this seemingly random statement.

As an awkward adolescent sitting at breakfast in a restaurant with her family, I was mortified. From the faces of everyone except my grandfather and the choked chortling coming from the wait staff, it’s one of my most vivid memories of my grandfather and one I’d rather not recall quite so easily. The message, however, was as clear then as it is now: my own actions as a girl or woman will be interpreted by others and either invite judgements of virtue or exploitation and I alone hold responsibility over whatever happens. In other words, what happens to me (sexually) is my ‘fault’.

Horseshit, I say, now as I did then. I am of course responsible for the choices I make and decisions I take. But, I am not an object.

Nearly 30 years later and armed with a firm understanding of feminism, sexual justice, and the notion that there is no justification for the subjugation or exploitation of anyone, it’s discouraging to hear what is passing as a project aimed at today’s youth in West Virginia.

Labelled Project Future Two-a-Days, the ‘social media and drug education’ programme launched in August is aimed at high school athletes and guiding them on ‘avoiding trouble on the internet‘. Basically, it teaches young athletes how not to tweet, text or post to social media any evidence which might incriminate them or lead to criminal charges against them.

That is, things happen when you add drugs, alcohol, smartphones and raging hormones. Don’t share it via social media and here’s how you can avoid getting caught.

Maybe, in all this training, we can insert a little bit of guidance on not sexually assaulting young girls? Maybe a little something about ‘consensual sex’ and its meaning? And, hey, whilst we’re at it, maybe we could talk about safer sex? Since the programme mentions drug education, maybe we can also add a little about responsible drinking and drugs behaviour as well?

But, no, the idea is to not get caught — not to not do it in the first place. That it is designed for young male athletes is rather shocking.

News this week has showcased yet another town’s lovely treatment of a pair of young girls who were raped (at a star football player’s home and by him and his friends), one girl being left for dead on her lawn in freezing temps. Despite both physical and digital evidence, despite eye witness accounts from the younger girl and several of the other boys there, and despite what appears to be confessions from the two boys who assaulted the girls, the charges were mysteriously dropped. Instead, the two girls — one 13 and another 14 — were blamed for what happened to them and much of the town stands firmly behind the boys who perpetrated rape whilst publicly shaming the girls.

‘They asked for it’. ‘They deserved it’. ‘Matt 1: Daisy 0’ read one viscious t-shirt — Matt being the star football player, Daisy being the girl left for dead. That t-shirt was worn by another girl.

How many times will this happen? How many times has it happened and gone unreported?

The Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network provides a depressing answer to that last question: out of every 100 rapes, 54 go unreported. Only three out of every 100 rapists will spend a single day in jail for the crime(s) they commit. Three. I think we can agree that that is appalling.

From RAINN (http://www.rainn.org/get-information/statistics/reporting-rates). Sources: 1. Justice Department, National Crime Victimization Survey: 2006-2010; 2. FBI, Uniform Crime Reports: 2006-2010; 3. National Center for Policy Analysis, Crime and Punishment in America, 1999; 4. Department of Justice, Felony Defendents in Large Urban Counties: average of 2002-2006; 5. Department of Justice, Felony Defendents in Large Urban Counties: average of 2002-2006.

From RAINN (http://www.rainn.org/get-information/statistics/reporting-rates).
Sources:
1. Justice Department, National Crime Victimization Survey: 2006-2010; 2. FBI, Uniform Crime Reports: 2006-2010; 3. National Center for Policy Analysis, Crime and Punishment in America, 1999; 4. Department of Justice, Felony Defendents in Large Urban Counties: average of 2002-2006; 5. Department of Justice, Felony Defendents in Large Urban Counties: average of 2002-2006.

There is no justice figures like these. Whilst these are figures for all rapes regardless of age, given the reluctance of most kids to talk about sex let alone sexual violence and drugs and alcohol with their parents, it’s easy to imagine that most instances of rape in adolescents go unreported to anyone. But, by all means, let’s start programmes which teach young men how to get away with sexually assaulting young girls.

Gloria Steinem may have been speaking on a seemingly unrelated issue when she recently said that we need to ‘change the culture‘. But, that seems precisely what we need to do. Rather than teaching boys and young men how not to get caught and to not post videos or pictures of their friends raping young girls, we have the tools and responsibility to teach them how to respect young girls and how NOT to rape young girls. We should spend a little energy and time imparting upon them that girls and women are not simply sexual objects — young girls are equally important and valuable — intellectually, socially and culturally. Let’s provide young people with healthy notions of relationships of all types.

And, while we’re at it, let’s teach young girls (and young boys) that have been sexually assaulted that they won’t be blamed for the heinous acts perpetrated against them. They will not be shamed by their community simply because the popular, well-connected individual is the guilty party. It is not their fault when a violent crime is committed against them.

The only way we can change the culture of rape and the culture of objectification is to call it what it is and hold those accountable for turning a blind eye. And, we commit further crimes when we blame those against whom such crimes have been perpetrated.

Thirty years on from that mortifying breakfast and I am realising nothing has really changed. But, that doesn’t mean it can’t.

On civility

by in Current events, Random musings, US Politics and tagged , , | 5 Comments

Merriam-Webster defines civility as:

polite, reasonable, and respectful behavior.

The interwebs are filled with anything but civility today.

For most of the rest of the world, watching the discourse coming from not just Washington DC but the United States in general most likely lies somewhere between reviews of the worst theatre production ever and an unthinkable reality show capturing a mass of petulant, pouting, spoiled brats hurling food, mud, insults and anything else at one another (check out the comments in the link). What’s worse is that those actors this very large schoolyard bully fest don’t have the slightest inkling what they are actually fighting about anymore, other than that the other side is just ‘wrong’ and ‘immoral’ and they are not.

There is scarcely little in the way of public displays of civility between waring factions in the US anymore between politicians between friends and even between family members at times. What happened?

I’m not a member of any political party in the US or elsewhere. I can see merit in many positions (although I confess that I do find most of what the Tea Party spews to be utterly incomprehensible and unconscionable). But, I don’t 100% agree with any party on every single issue. Who does? I’ll certainly entertain policy outlines and listen to agendas which attempt to solve a problem or provide a solution to an issue which faces us all and which keeps human rights and dignity at the forefront. I’m open to debating issues as long as it doesn’t become personal and attacks are not launched at a party or class or group of individuals categorised as ‘the other’ or those ‘who are to blame’.

We are all humans. We are all guilty of some sin or another just as we all have good within us. And, frankly, we should all share a portion of the blame for the situation in which we now find ourselves. No one is infallible. No one is above reproach.

But, increasingly and especially at the moment, having any sort of discussion is like sitting several centimetres from a tinderbox doused with a litre of petrol and a burning match dangling ever so closely to where the tinder is just beginning to smoke. Sparks are flying ever so closely and we all seem in danger of erupting fully and violently (I include myself in this — I am under no illusions to those who might think otherwise). It’s a little frightening to me. As much as I love to discuss policy and politics, there are many moments when I’d rather not since I know the inevitable flame wars will ensue.

Again, what happened?

If we cannot create a safe space in which to voice our concerns as well as our ideas and solutions, we’ll never find common ground and we cannot hope to find a happy medium. If we ever hope to regain that greatness and promise of a brighter future for our children and grandchildren, if we are ever to begin to address the most pressing issues of our day, we must regain that sense of collective good. To do that, we must keep discussions civil and even-handed, and we must remain open to alternatives.

I’ll do my best. Will you?

800px-Constitution_We_the_People

Gentle reminders…

by in Everyday Life, Inspiration, Random musings | Leave a comment

The past few weeks (months?) have been an exercise in plodding through and continuing onward. To what and where are not exactly clear, but that’s secondary.

As I continue to process ‘life’ for want of a better descriptive and work through various ‘issues’, I share two links which I have gone back to repeatedly in the past few days.

First, a gentle and beautiful reminder to us all from the lovely Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush:

Give those near and dear to you a hug and tell them that you love them and appreciate them and are proud of who they are. You never know when your chance to do so one last time has passed. Or, simply listen and know that you are not alone.

Second, a quick read which provides much fodder for all of us and an incredibly useful inventory of steps which have absolutely zero to do with flat abs. I don’t think any of these steps are particularly easy; but I do think we could all benefit from taking them to heart and attempting to make them a part of our daily lives and mindset. I know I could. If doing so leads to flatter abs, m’okay.

Fact: Child brides exist

by in Children, HIV, Random musings, Sexual & Reproductive Health & Rights (SRHR), women and tagged | 1 Comment

A particularly gruesome headline can bring attention to issues which otherwise garner far too little coverage. This morning, one such headline has been on my mind:

Bride, 8, dies of injuries on wedding night in Yemen

There is some question regarding the veracity of the reporting in the wake of regional outrage. True or not, child brides as young as 8 years old exist in many parts of the world. Very few of those lives spark any interest at all and never appear in headlines until tragedy (of another sort) strikes.

Girls Not Brides estimates that each year 14 million girls are wed before they turn 18, the age which is internationally recognised as the point at which a girl transitions to womanhood. One in seven of those 14 million girls marry before reaching the age of 15.

It isn’t just that girls under 18 marry, which is troubling. It’s that the majority of those young girls are forced to do so, and more often than not are greeted with husbands who are much, much older. A rather chilling collection of photographs and a short film (below) by Stephanie Sinclair vividly illustrate the reality of child marriage for many young girls across cultures.

In addition to the horror of rape, many girls who are married off far, far too young face a host of risks to their health and well-being. Most likely already living in poverty, they are more likely to experience complications due to pregnancy and childbirth given their age, and they are at risk for sexually transmitted infections including HIV. Unable to emotionally and physically deal with married life, domestic abuse and violence are also likely making the transition from girl to woman a living nightmare.

For some young brides in Afghanistan and India, their situation is so unimaginably horrendous that self-immolation is preferable to returning to abusive, much older husbands.

Whether the headline of a single 8-year-old Yemeni girl is fact or fiction, the International Centre for Research on Women estimates that child marriage will be a reality for more than 142 million girls over the next decade globally if current trends persist. No continent is immune to this reality, and no single culture, religion, or ethnicity is ‘to blame’. It happens everywhere.

Whether that headline is true or not, hundreds of thousands of young girls have suffered emotionally and physically as a child bride on their wedding nights. Some wedding gift, eh?

Water, water everywhere; not a drop to drink or use…

by in Children, Everyday Life, Health, Helsinki, Random musings and tagged , | Leave a comment

Not long ago, I was musing about how fortunate and privileged we are in our comfortable life here in the uber-developed North. Today, I’m realising just how incredibly privileged we are and how a mere 8-hour disruption is, well, disruptive to our normal routine and cushioned life.

First-world fortunate, indeed.

The story:

A few months ago, some maintenance men with clipboards and tape measures traipsed through our flat looking at the pipes in our kitchen and bathroom to determine how sound they were. They went to each and every flat in the building and we knew they would be carrying out this inspection well in advance. After the inspection, the decision was taken to replace the building’s entire plumbing and drainage system. Thus, the next few months will see loads of renovations taking place throughout our normally quiet and convenient life. All of the pipes and plumbing fixtures in our four-story, four-entrance apartment block will be replaced with shiny new pipes and fixtures. It all appears to be very well organised and orchestrated. And, we are given updates through our mail slots of impending disruptions and what to expect with plenty of notice.

Rather impressive, really.

The problem is that occasionally over the next several months, we will have no water nor drainage in our flat. Given that both my husband and I work from home, logistically, this is not quite ideal. A bloody nuisance when you think about all the various ‘functions’ which require drainage or running water.

Today — the first of those several days  — I’m truly astounded by how many tasks and ‘things’ require water and/or drains. And, I am so, so, so happy that it is for only 8 hours.

This also has me thinking about those who have no running water. And, those who have no drainage systems or modern plumbing.

UNICEF’s US-based website lists the following in relation to world wide stats on safe water and sanitation:

Water is life. Yet 768 million people do not have access to safe, clean drinking water, and 2.5 billion people live without proper sanitation. When water is unsafe and sanitation non-existent, water can kill.

Across the globe, nearly 4,000 children die each day from unsafe water and lack of basic sanitation facilities.

That’s quite staggering to me. The WHO/UNICEF Joint Monitoring Programme for Water Supply and Sanitation (JMP) lists diarrhoea as the leading cause of illness and death. Furthermore, 88% of diarrhoeal deaths are due to inadequate access to sanitation facilities, together with the inadequate availability of water for hygiene and unsafe drinking water.

Water is life, indeed.

To understand the importance of having clean and safe drinking water and adequate sanitation and just how much water we use along with how easily available it is to us in the developed North, take a day to make note of your daily water use. It’s eye-opening to say the least.

All the various, seemingly meaningless tasks which at some point require running (or at least clean) water and functioning drains add up and add up quickly.

We stocked up on bottles and buckets of water yesterday evening and also put out a few refuse buckets for the kitchen and bathroom sinks, mostly to remind us not to use the drains. Despite having spent a fair amount of time either traveling in places where water was a luxury or inconsistently available, numerous camping expeditions when it was all about humping water in and out in my backpack, and the completely unpredictable water cut-offs in Moscow and on holiday in Cuba, I’m still struggling with this inconvenience. Because, honestly, for us in our relatively posh life in Finland, this 8-hour disruption is a mere inconvenience rather than a daily fact of life.

And, I am extremely grateful!

UN Water estimates that each person—each individual human living on this giant rock racing through the universe—needs 20-50 litres of water each day to meet their basic needs for drinking cooking, and cleaning. Here in Finland, particularly in Helsinki, those 20-50 litres can be accessed quite easily by opening up any number of water taps in our flat.

From brushing our teeth, to using the toilet, washing our hands, making coffee, rinsing our coffee cups or spoons to get the bits of grounds off of them, drinking water because we’re simply thirsty, to showering, and all of the various things we do throughout the day which mean opening up the water tap, water most definitely is life.

And, I’m looking forward to opening up those lovely, luscious water taps at 16.00 (or in an hour and 40 minutes).

Image from Save the Children Australia

Image from Save the Children Australia

First-World Fortune

by in Everyday Life, Justice, Random musings and tagged , , | 1 Comment

This week I have been reminded just how fortunate I am.

I have a loving, devoted, kind and principled husband, who also happens to be the one person on the planet with whom I could happily spend 24 / 7 / 365 and not become homicidal. Whatever issues in life we face, we face them together (and more often than not with some sort of ridiculous joke / quip attached to it which only makes sense to us). He places the same value on a just world and feels the same sorrow I do when we witness the various injustices which plague this planet of ours.

Perhaps it was his father’s visit this past week which brought home to me once again just how fortunate we are. In addition to have founding one another in this gigantic, crazy world, we have a solid roof over our heads, a full cupboard with more food than most people see in a year. We have our health and we have relatively healthy attitudes.

These are no small things. There are far, far too many in this world who don’t have a fraction of what we have and can only dream of having that fraction. There are also those who dare not dream for the dream is far too out of reach.

We have been thinking a lot about this simple truth: Whilst there are plenty of things we could (and at times do) b!tch about, we want for nothing really.

We live in a civilised, well-functioning country with all attendant social and health services making life relatively good. We have access to whatever health care services we need, and if we wanted, we could probably return to school for the further training of our over-educated brains. Our running water is clean and abundant and hot; the lights work, and our internet is fast. In winter, which is long, the heat is always on.

All too often, those of us who take these daily luxuries for granted, b!tch and moan about our First-World problems. We want a better-paying job, the latest and fastest technology (e.g., smarter smartphones or computers or whatever gadget du jour which may distract us from the world around us), or a bigger home with shiny, new conveniences.

We forget that the rest of the world would be happy to enjoy for a moment just a fraction of the multitudes of fortunes we b!tch about.

But, recognising and knowing that there are places where any running water is a treat (nevermind hot water or clean water), electricity is something which may or may not be available or will only work for portions of your day / week / month, etc. if at all, where food is scarce and your choice is between what’s there or nothing, where you may have access to great health care but vital medicines are scarce if available at all, and your complaints diminish.

Realising that we live in a place where violence is something we witness from afar makes all of our ‘troubles’ seem incredibly trivial and meaningless.

We are fortunate. Very.

Even though there may be moments when we forget this, we both resolved to remind ourselves often that we have infinitely more than many on this planet could ever hope to dream for, let alone actually hope to actually have. That we do so in a place which is peaceful and calm and free is simply priceless.

We spent much time this week looking out this window reflecting on our fortunes, which are many.

We spent much time this week looking out this window reflecting on our fortunes, which are many.

The Waiting Game

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‘Of all the hardships a person had to face, none was more punishing than the simple act of waiting’. ― Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns

I suck at waiting. Absolutely and completely suck at it. If you ever want to torture me, make me wait. My own version of hell is an endless cycle of waiting for other people or things to happen.

In a cruel twist of irony, I married a man who is perpetually ‘getting ready’. He can’t help it and nor can I. Mix a Cuban and a mostly East Coast American together and you get an anxious woman tapping her toes perpetually and sarcastically asking, ‘Can we go now maybe?’

Perhaps its also more than a little ironic that I loathe waiting but am also prone to procrastinatation. Of course, procrastination comes with those tasks I do not want to tackle, whilst anticipation is more about moments at which I am desperate to arrive.

Today, it’s about waiting for my darling father-in-law Medel to arrive. It’s been far, far too long since last seeing him (~3.5 years), and his visit will be all-too-brief. As we were readying to leave for the airport to meet him, Sod’s Law of course strikes and we learn that his flight is delayed 2.5 hours. That’s 2.5 hours more of waiting, but also 2.5 hours we want to spend with him! Pfft.

But, it’s not just that sort of anticipation which annoys me. Waiting for a package to arrive in the post. Waiting in a queue at the supermarket (particularly just before holidays in Finland). Waiting on the bus (although, in Helsinki, this is soooooo much easier thanks to Journey Planner). Waiting for that anticipated phone call or email.

I simply suck at waiting.

In my quest to be more patient and mostly less obnoxious when waiting for others (especially when waiting for my infinitely patient darling husband), I stumbled across this gem of ‘advice’. It’s nothing really profound or new, and all of the tips are fairly obvious and common sense, IMHO. There is, however, something about seeing them in print which helps. In particular, a gentle reminder such as ‘control what you can control and let the rest go’ is never amiss.

So, I shall endeavour to let go of the fact that my father-in-law’s plane is late, and just enjoy the fact that I can enjoy another cuppa whilst waiting. Patiently. <tap tap tap>