At 03:45 this morning, Emma licked my fingers in a clear signal that she wanted to go out to the loo. Freya followed us downstairs and, having first checked the time in the kitchen, I took them outside to ablute. We then went back to bed as if nothing had happened.
At around 07:00 I woke again and made my way downstairs. The house was strangely quiet. As I passed the microwave (my source of time in the first time of waking) the little screen was black. I then realised that the heater was off. It didn’t take long to work out that the electricity had ceased operations.
I shut myself away in the lounge (which the under floor heating had already heated) and wrote to Camilla informing her that we were in danger of hyperthermia and who knows what given I couldn’t have a coffee. I wondered whether I should have bought an emergency camp stove.
An hour later, when I woke Mirinda and told her the sad and distressing news that she wouldn’t be having a cup of tea this morning, I thought to check the fuse box. The main fuse had been tripped. I flicked the switch and, like a miracle from the gods, everything came back on.
I realise that Occam’s Razor dictates that I should have checked the power board first, but my defence is a lack of coffee.
My day improved after that little episode with a trip into Tyresö Centrum for vital supplies.
Given the new Swedish decision to start limiting numbers of customers in shops depending on square metre-age of floor space, every shop had a sign outside with a hand written number boldly proclaiming the magic number.
This was obvious for the mobile phone shop that could only allow 3. At least you can work that one out. Ica was 128 and that would be impossible to judge. There was no-one counting people in and out of the large shops. In fact, apart from the little signs, shopping was no different to normal.
I managed to buy a window scraper for Max. Given the weather conditions at the moment, this was very important. I also bought two pairs of the shoe spike things, something I’ve used often to remain upright on the icy paths of Farnham Park.
Speaking of the weather…we had a bit more snow in the night which meant an upsurge in snow removal machinery. I tried to get a photo of a snow plough while I waited for my bus back, but it was a blur to action. They really do race from one snow hazard to another.
On the way back, I was reminded that it was St Knut’s Day. It’s the day that the Swedes take down the Christmas Tree. Once denuded of decorations, a strange little dance is performed around the now naked tree. It is then tossed out the window (or off the balcony).
In fact, in most quarters it is still called Toss the Tree Out the Window day.
Actually, it doesn’t happen so often these days, but I did see a sad little pile of around five forlorn trees piled outside an apartment block on the way home.
Back at home, I unpacked, showed Mirinda the goodies I’d bought before we left for Norrby’s for fish soup. The garden looked lovely, covered in snow, though you could see where the dogs had left yellow snow where you wouldn’t normally notice. And, of course, once one dog has peed every other dog that passes has to add to the overall scent puddle. This makes it difficult to assure the owners that your dog didn’t do it.
We sat by the window, enjoying the fact that we were inside, all toasty, while the temperature outside was below zero.
The drop in temperature was the reason why Camilla and Anders came to visit tonight. They wanted to install two insert windows in the kitchen. Or, double glazing for people who prefer to retain their beautiful original windows.
We had a jolly chat which ranged from Russian drinking habits to microscopic bugs for which we all provide home, food and transport. Professor Anders really seems to know everything about Sweden and, it would appear, other things as well. He is definitely our go-to guy when it comes to burning questions.
Interestingly, while Anders informed, Camilla installed.
It was all very jolly though it did mean a late dinner given they didn’t leave until gone eight o’clock. Still, I’d planned sausages and mash (cauli) which only took half an hour.
Which, of course, only leaves me with this week’s glorious sausage.