The house we’re staying in at the moment is not far from the closest supermarket. A Coop is just over the roundabout that connects our street to the main road. When we booked the house, I rejoiced in the fact that I’d be able to walk to the shops. It’s also where the bus stop is located, which is great for us both.
This morning marked the first time I walked to the Coop.
It took me half an hour, my trolley obediently trundling behind me. I reckon it would take less time were it not for the hill and the grit. Fears of another sprained ankle, slow me down whenever grit is present. Plus, the walk is half up and half down, a hill.
It’s quite a gradual climb, but it lasts a long time. The trip there is okay, but the return journey, once the trolley is full, is a bit of a slog.
Still, it was great being independent. I can now start to re-establish my shopping routine.
I also discovered a bit of street art in the small plaza outside the Coop. It features a cockerel and various bits and pieces.
It’s called Vardagens Poesi (Everyday Poetry) and was made by Hertha Hillfon. I found the explanation below on a site I discovered regarding 2,000 notable Swedish women.
Her final public sculpture group was tied to the everyday. Vardagens poesi was commissioned by Hyresgästernas sparkasse- och byggnadsförening (HSB) and raised at the Strandtorg in Tyresö in 2004. It consists of a black table made of highly polished diabase, with fish, bread and a towel, as well as a jug, amphora, and a cockerel on a pedestal, all in bronze.
Hertha Maria Lilli-Mor Hillfon, www.skbl.se/sv/artikel/HerthaHillfon, Svenskt kvinnobiografiskt lexikon (article by Birgitta Flensburg), retrieved 2023-01-18.
It seems to be a frequent artists’ subject. A sort of still life in sculpture. As anyone who knows me knows, I love a bit of public art, even more so when I can successfully connect the dots and make more sense of it.
While the trip to the Coop was a great success, the weather, late on, was not. The forecast promised heavy snow from midday until around 6pm. Well, that was an unkept promise.
Okay, it did, sort of, snow, but the temperature was above zero so, while there were miniscule snowflakes, by the time it hit the ground, they were rain. And it didn’t stop raining all afternoon. Unfortunately, given the wholehearted promise of whiteness, Mirinda had delayed her walk to coincide with it. She took the girls out in the rain instead.
They all returned, invigorated, but wet. The girls were shivering.
