Good luck my dear klasskamrater!

Since it was the end of the school term, the teachers organised a small party for all the students in the program from group A to D. We were gonna have coffee and cake and maybe sing even. Plus the students who were graduating (all 5 of us) would receive their certificates from Berit, including moi!

Everyone was so dressed up, especially the male teachers. Of cos Klas, my B teacher, didn't comb his hair as usual but he wore a suit with tie albeit a tad short!

Here I am after receiving my certificate and Klas comes running in with his old ass camera (which I think is only a step up from the manual wind up camera).
A precious picture of my dear friend Vlasta who is sooo camera shy. She graduated too! We've been through a lot in school together and she's the one I bombard all my Swedish on since she does the same to me too!
Klas, my teacher from B group and Anita, my strict ass teacher from C group. They are such opposites of each other but I guess good in their ow way. Funnily enough, they are also the 2 teachers I have the most connection with.

And here are my first and final teachers, Leif from A group and Berit from D group. They are the 2 calmest people I have ever met and they never seem to lose their tempers. Ever. Especially Leif who has such a deep, soothing voice and talks ooh so slowly. So slowly that Klas teases him. ha ha!One of the many singing sessions that the Burmese students put together. They love singing! And that guy in the front who is dancing like crazy? I have NEVER seen that man express any emotion or even talk until that day when he was jumping, dancing for joy and singing like crazy. But the moment the singing stops, he goes back to zombie mode and sits in a corner, expressionless.A final fare thee well to my 2 Iraqi boys who have been such a source of fun and amusement my last 2 months at school. And of cos our beloved teacher..ahem...Anita.

And this picture of me and the infamous Muthana is not to be missed. How to ever forget a man so amusingly lost in his own litte world? But he's actually a pretty nice guy and friendly too. He never forgets to say hi and includes my name (for some reason he remembered it more towards the end) when we pass each other.

Bittersweet goodbye hugs and well wishes. I'm gonna miss my klaskamrater (classmates) and all the fun we had in class. It was a happy and sad day all in one.

Farewell my lovely friends. We may or may not see each other again but it was fun while it lasted.

School's Out!...for real this time...

I am officially done with school. This basic Swedish language program anyway though I'm quite proud to say that I was a straight A student. Makes my certificate look gooooood.....
I can continue with school and do higher level Swedish (among other subjects I will have to take) but I'm still pondering. I can always study later on and if I work first and study after I get my PR in 2 years, I get paid to study as well which is great! I'd much rather work first but it's intimidating to have to work and just speak Swedish all the time. Tiring too.

Many of my friends will tell me, hey you did it in Thailand so why not in Sweden?. Well, looking back, even though I did manage to get by life in Thailand, at work I could speak a lot of English. It's not so intimidating when I have to deal with check in and out and complaining guests in English, the language I'm most comfortable with. But if I had had to do it in Thai, I would have probably sweated blood. Anyway, I was lucky in the sense that when I started out in Thailand I could speak English most of the time and my job scope revolved around my ability to speak good English.

It's a whole new ballgame now in Sweden. Look in any guidebook, it will be written that Sweden is the best Scandic country to visit for an English speaking tourist. It's true that most people here understand and can speak Swedish and if you were a tourist struggling to be understood, they will certainly help you and in English too. But to live and work here is a totally different thing. For some reason, the Swedes are more unwilling to speak English and more often than not, I encounter a Swede who apparently can't understand or speak English.

So anyway, many people suggest that I apply at the local hotel but it's so intimidating!!!! Ok ok, I'm being a whiny baby about this but I'm entitled (right?). Most of the guests they have are Swedes and what's more, since it's a small hotel, the front desk receptionists also act as serving staff in the hotel restaurant at night. I'm not so sure about the day tho. Ugh...so scary! But everytime I start to cower, I think about all those immigrants who can't speak a word of Swedish and they manage to live here for years and years...aah, I should just stop whining and get my ass down to the unemployment office so they can do the searching for me. Maybe I can get a job at a nursery or kindergarten instead. That may be simpler...maybe....

Oh and happy midsummer! It's the longest day of the year and widely celebrated here in Sweden. So I'm heading to a party at the in laws with smoked fish and lots of gravy and potatoes. Yum! (who would have thought I would say yum to smoked fish?)

School Excursion

The school organised a little excursion for all the students right after our exams. We were gonna visit a castle, take a boat, visit a few museums and even a plant nursery. Berit had informed us of the trip some weeks ago including that we were to bring our own lunchbox which to me meant PICNIC!

So I planned with a couple of girls in class to bring food so we could all picnic together. I decided to cook up some rice and a couple of Chinese inspired dishes. Managed to prepare garlic prawns, cashew nut chicken (without the cashew nuts cos I only like them as snacks) and black pepper fish. The food turned out EXCELLENT!

The day did not start exactly as I had wanted to with it raining in the morning and being gray and windy. I felt quite upset with the weather but what is one to do. At least the rain had stopped by the time I was ready to leave the house. I didn’t have to go Hallsberg but just had to walk down to the harbour in Askersund as we gonna take a boat to the castle!

As usual I was late and everyone had arrived with the school bus by the time I got there. I had just bought a BEAUTIFUL new tote bag that also acted as a chillbag cos it has aluminium insulation to keep things warm or cool. One such a day, I of cos took the opportunity to use it for the first time. My lovely bag got to go on a boat trip on its VIRGIN use.

We took the WETTERWIK across from Askersund to Sterjnsund castle, a beautiful summer castle visible from our small little town. The castle has the most beautiful view of the lake.



Hopping off the boat and right onto castle ground. But silly me forgot to just turn around and take a picture of the darn boat docked on the teeny tiny jetty nestled among tall weeds in the water. Oh well..

Me, my beautiful new chillbag, Som one of my first friends in school and my 2 lovely male teachers, Klas and Leif.
These are most of the girls in my class. You'll notice that most of us are from Asia. The only European in the picture is Irina from Russia. Would you believe that the lady with the yellow sweater is a mother of 4, the one in white jacket is in her mid 50s and I am the youngest in the group?
More ladies of my class and this time we have contestants from Bosnia (in pink), Iraq (to my right) and my eternally calm teacher, Berit.


And right after my nice little class picture, the silly boys from Group C started screaming 'Wait! Wait! I want in too!' So one by one everyone started joining the picture till we got to this big group which was all that the little piece of land we were standing on could take before we all fell into the ice cold lake.Finally a picture of our Wetterwik chugging away into the horizon. This is a view of the lake from the front of the castle grounds. How gorgeous is the view right?

Even on a cloudy and windy day, the sky is absolutely breathtaking. I just love how the clouds lined up here, both white and gray.

Here is Khaldoun, one of the 2 funny and cheeky Iraqi guys from my C class. They're fun loving guys that I can make fun of and who will laugh with me. Not too many of those around me right now so they are a nice comic relief. Khaldoun is 35 and single and interested in a Burmese girl in the C class tho he denies vehemently everytime we tease him. But we know the truth cos he can't stop grinning everytime we say her name.

THe castle front steps. It may not be a big castle but it is gorgeous both inside and out.

And here is Khassan, the other funny fella. He is my age and is cheekier than Khaldoun. We're standing right in front of the castle steps on the driveway that is raked every Friday.

Here we are in Motala, a larger town south of Askersund, where we finally had our little picnic. Don't be fooled, sunny as it looked behind us, every single one of us were freezing. Took us a while to get this picture what with the bloody cold wind blowing hair every way into our faces to getting the hungry ladies to finally put down their spoons for 2 seconds to smile to the camera.

This is what happens when I try to get camera shy Vlasta from Slovenia to pose for the camera with me. I get swept up in one of her infamously huge bear hugs.

Right after Motala, we headed for Göta Canal which is a canal that runs from Göthenburg to Stockholm, crossing the 3 largest lakes in Sweden. We went to one of the points where the boats pass through what is called slussar in Swedish. I'm not exactly sure what it is called in English but it is like dams built one after another to form steplike passageways for the boats to go downhill. I'm standing on one of the doors of these dams and what happens when a boat passes through is that the water will be let out of the passageway that the boat is in until it reaches the waterlevel of the next step. When the water level is low enough, the door will open and the boat sails through to the next 'step' where the same thing happens. Of cos only one door is open at any one time. But it is something I have never seen before and it is quite interesting.

School's Out!...well almost....

Finally did my final paper and oral for my Swedish classes today and such a relief! I must say that the 3 written tests and especially the oral test was so difficult! But the last written test I had to do today and the oral were the killers. They really were killers! Even Berit, my D class teacher, commented that the papers this semester are tougher than for other semesters. They seemed to have changed the format a little and upped the level a notch. They got that right. I'll know my final results next week which is the last week of the semester as well. So nervous for that!

Imagine having to learn a whole new language and within 5 months (in my case anyway), my written test requires me to write a letter to a newspaper commenting on someone's opinion that had been published on the opinion page of the newspaper. I don't even do that in English and I'm expected to do it in Swedish?! What the f**k? Had to give my opinions on some guy who wrote that ALL Handphones should be banned cos him encountering people talking on the phone all the time was getting on his nerves. And we had to put in our opinions and talk about the pros and cons of that and whether we agree with the writer.

UGH! Took me almost an hour to make it sound semi decent.

And the ORAL! Oh my goodness!

There I was sitting in the room with Berit, who was informing me of my results for my first 2 written tests (tell you about it later) and how the oral is gonna play out later that day. There are 2 parts to the oral test, one is where the teacher gives me a topic and I have to talk about it. The other part, which is more terrifying to me, is that another student who is also taking the oral test at the same time and I are given a topic and we have to debate about it and hopefully come to a consensus or mutual alternative about the topic.

What??! Debate? Like..what??! Debate??!

I honestly don't do well in debates unless I feel very very strongly for something. You can't just throw me a random topic and expect me to debate about it...in SWEDISH!! And then just as a secondary slap to the wartorn face, I get paired up with some guy who had just come to do the tests and damn was he good. That really threw me off balance and confidence levels plummeted to new lows. Suddenly the mind went blank, words come out in the wrong order, I spoke so slowly it was like a turtle with a broken leg and I basically left the exam room feeling like a moron on Xanax.

So that of cos brought down the whole morale and whatever high spirits I had felt barely an hour before were left broken. But some time later (as they say time heals all wounds) I realise that it was just the Singaporean in me that is making me feel so down and thinking constantly about my idiotic performance on the oral test and refusing to be uplifted by my grand results of the 1st two written tests. I mean how can I let such sick, pathetic expressions of me in Swedish ruin the fact that I had scored an excellent 100% for both my written tests?!

100% procent! My eyes almost popped when Berit showed me the test results. And I still deigned to ask if I could look through my paper just to see. Ha ha! Another idiot moment in action. But what to do when the kancong Singaporean in me bursts out in full colour come exam time. Like I always say, you can take the Singaporean out of Singapore but you can't take the Singapore out of the Singaporean. So of cos I will celebrate that with Mathias this weekend with a nice Chinese buffet and possibly a shopping spree or movie (guess who wants movie and who wants shopping?).

Scoring such results does not make me safe though. Oh no, far from it. In order to graduate, one must pass all 4 sections of the exam. It doesn't matter how high you score for the 1st two written, you HAVE to pass the other 2 in order to graduate. Hai...but I think I will do well enough to pass. But the Singaporean in me (coming round the mountain to bite me in the heiny) wants to get good results for all 4. But I also know that it doesn't really matter. What is important is that I graduate. Uh huh...

As a form of celebration (I think), the school has organised an excursion for the whole school. So all 4 classes are going by boat (YAY!!) to the nearby castle for a tour. After that, we shall take the boat again (YAY! YAY!) to a beautiful little town further south (a place I LURVE to go with Mathias for the grocery shopping and eating...what else?) called Motala.

In Motala, we shall visit the car and radio museum and have a little picnic if we want. Of cos at the word of PICNIC, I come alive so I have planned with a few other girls in my class to cook a couple of dishes so that we can all picnic together since there is a nice lake in Motala as well. Actually that lake is the same lake as in Askersund, just a different shore.

So it will be fun and exciting and since unlike many people in my class who have not done the oral, I have totally finished with ALL my exams so I AM FREE!!!!

Hot Summer Days

The past weeks have been really nice and warm though a little too warm some days for me. Mathias' family and most white people around me keep commenting on how I must be used to the high temperatures and it's a walk in the park for me. But the big city girl in me is screaming,'Where the hell is the airconditioned shopping centre?! Taka help me!!'. I do all I can to keep cool and just wish that we had a bathtub just so I can soak in cool water but made the husband buy a fan instead. Demanded it really.

But a great thing about the warm summer days are that it's a perfect excuse to go out and have picnics, something all my close friends know I LURVE! And luckily enough, so does husband.



A lovely picnic by a bridge that overlooks the lake. Great scenery, great company, excellent food. What more can a girl ask for?

The view from where we were seating. Gives one such an appetite surrounded by natural beauty like this.
We visited a beautiful small hotel located by another part of the large, large lake. I wanna stay here someday!! It's so peaceful..

Very quaint and traditional looking hotel. So romance novel like.

And there I was with my Prince Charming. Such a lucky girl I am.

National Day Weekend

Last friday was Sweden's National Day and unlike in Singapore, the Swedes don't generally celebrate it with a bang. Mathias believes it's got something to do with the fact that they've been unoccupied for the last few hundreds of years. It's like celebrating birthdays, kids get really excited when it comes to their own but as they get older, the enthusiasm wanes a little. Not me of cos but this isn't really about me, is it?

So every National Day Askersund has a tradition(It's Sweden, what do you expect?) in which they have a march that starts from the town square. Anyone can join in the march so it's size varies from year to year and it's led by a musical quartet and flag bearers and they march through town right past our window so I could watch the march go by from above if I wanted to. The march ends at the top of a hill in Askersund where the one can find the school museum, many small enclosures where they have farm animals (goats, sheep, chickens, ducks and rabbits) and very very old traditional village cottages where a stage has also been erected for the National Day celebrations to continue with the arrival of the march.

But what was also special on this particular National Day is that Mathias' grandma was receiving an award for Cultural Woman of the Year. She's a pretty special woman, warm, welcoming, kind and friendly. Both she and Grandpa Sjöberg are both wonderful people and I really enjoy spending time with them. Among all the family in husband's clan other than husband dearest, I spend most time with them.
It was a pretty moving moment for both of them on that day. Anyone can tell just how proud Grandpa Sjöberg is of his wife. She was trying to hide damp eyes behind sunglasses and he by pretending that his nose is running so he has to constantly wipe his nose and face. So sweet.

I must say that the Sjöberg clan is a pretty reputable family. Most family in this town know or know of Grandpa and Grandma Sjöberg and Mathias' dad, Torbjörn Sjöberg. They are all known to be trustworthy, good people whom one can turn to for help if needed. And now that young master Sjöberg (Mathias lah) works in town for the town electronics store, he continues and strengthens the good family name plus more people now know him or at least what he looks like. So it's quite nice knowing that I married into a good family.

So back to the National Day celebrations. The sound system is not great, the choir is quite out of tune (though it was better this year) and the violins were out of sync, out of pitch and petty amateurish but one shouldn't be so critical of a ten year old, right? And after the prize giving, the violin plying and choir singing, one has to dance!
So out came a group of traditionally dressed dancers who had been part of the march earlier to dance 4 traditional Swedish dances for us. It was quite fun watching them all spiffed up and turning and twirling to the musical quartet. The difference between this National Day celebration compared to the ones I've been used to growing up in Singapore is the amateur, semi disorganised yet cosy feeling one feels watching it. Nobody cares that the singers don't sing in tune, or that the music is too soft or the violins are out of tune. Everyone is there for community's sake and that feels nice.

Big city girl getting a taste of small town living.
The reputable Sjöberg men enjoying a warm summer's day.

Roadtrip!

Last weekend we went on a roadtrip with the parents in law to a small town a little north of Stockholm to a beautiful location called Dalhalla to watch the Irish Dance Company perform a Riverdance inspired performance. Dalhalla is an extraordinary and simply breathtaking location. Who would have thought that one could turn an old lime stone quarry into an outdoor concert hall?

The size of the actual thing is eye popping such that they provide buses for people to take to the entrance after the performances! Walking through the gates, one is greeted by a deep dip and one had to walk literally one round around the concert location in order to reach the level of the stage which is located at the very bottom of the quarry.You can see a tiny path behind them which is the only way down and one has to walk down!Birds eye view of Dalhalla concert 'hall'. The small lake is actually behind the stage and acts like a fountain during intermission, sprouting up water almost 10 meters into the air reaching above the stage roof.
The concert location can hold up to 4500 people and is famous for the fantastic acoustics probably due to the high walls all around. They open the gates 2 hours before the performance where one can spend the time eating hotdogs or at the restaurant located just behind the seats. Since I couldn't eat the hotdogs or enjoyed the salads served (ugh...white food!) I spent the time looking down to the stage where the dancers were having last minute rehearsals. Cool!

The 2 principal dancers are pretty good looking with the female principal looking like Goldilocks and the male looking like Prince Harry albeit a better looking one. But the male principal looked so hot on stage, even mother in law agreed!
This violinist was the most impressive of the lot. I must say that the musicians and singers that the dance company has are all really good but especially so this violinist. During the show, she played the violin and the banjo but most impressive of all, she danced while she played the violin. And not just simple tapping but she danced as well as the others while playing a pretty complicated tune, definitely deserving the standing ovation she got. IMPRESSIVE!
A little photo moment during intermission. Doesn't the husband look so adorable in his dorky plastic glasses?
Every province in Sweden have their own traditional set of clothes and Dalarna is no different. During the intermission, the semi tipsy father in law managed to push his way in front of tourists to get us this photo together with the 'program ladies' (who sold the evening's program..duh!) in their traditional clothes. They kinda reminded of women in Nepal in their thick, colourful skirts.
It was a great show on a wonderfully warm night and until midsummer, a night that remains bright as day until at least 10pm. Screws with one's brain really.

Tribute To Someone Special. A Friend Now & Always.

14 years ago, on the 3rd day of January, I met someone that would stay close to my heart for the rest of my life. I didn't think it was anyone particularly special at the time but of course I didn't really know her. All I knew was that this really tall, chinese looking girl with the indian name was so nice that I hoped we would end up in the same class.

Cheryl K and I eventually became desk partners and more importantly, friends. Close friends for more than 14 years now and I had always wondered how we would all look like, her and the rest of our close knit gang of friends, when we were 35 and hopefully married with kids. And everytime I wondered that, I always told Cheryl that I could picture her as this super sophisticated, successful career woman doing something really smart. I didn't know exactly what she would be doing but I was 1000% certain it's something smart like rocket science or something.

To this she would do two things, tell me that technically 1000% doesn't exist cos the maximum is only 100% then laugh and shake her head at my ditziness. That is a typical Cheryl reaction, correction and then acceptance.

She had always been the person I turned to when I needed advice or just someone to hang out with. To this day, I still remember her house telephone number even though I no longer use it since the dawn of the mobile phone era.

Cheryl has always been my rock, my one consistent companion, my voice of reason and sometimes the comforting shoulder for me to cry on. I could always convince her to try out new things with me and so we had embarked on some strange adventures some of which failed, like fencing in uni. So many experiences we shared, so many stories to tell, all of which revealed just how good a friend she really had been to me and many others. We may have had periods of time when we lost touch but it was never for long and when we did get together again it was like no time had ever passed in between.

3 days ago, Cheryl K. passed away due to complications from an illness she had been battling for the past year or so.

The news is still slowly sinking in and it may take a while before the reality that I will never see or speak to one of my best friends in the world hits me. My very last memory of her was at my wedding, 6 months ago, where she took the responsibility of driving my in laws back and forth from their hotel. It is a wonderful last memory of her, smiling and happy, actually wearing a floral scarf instead of her usual bandanna just because it's a wedding.

Sick as she was, she never really let on how it felt physically or emotionally to me. I thought it was probably something she wants to keep private and I gave her the space I thought she needed. Maybe I gave her too much or I was simply too selfish and in deep denial that she was very ill. But the guilt one feels at not calling a friend enough, not giving her enough of you can be overwhelming. I didn't want to take away her energy by making her talk to me on the phone but now I wish I had spoken to her just once, even if it was for a little while.

I wish..I wish...I wish my friend was not gone. My friend who loved Thai Express as much as me and even shared the card membership with me. My friend who kept my feet firmly on the ground and whose wry sense of humour, sensibility and intelligence keeps me in awe of her. My friend who spent many many hours just hanging out doing nothing at my brother's flat and who helped me entertain my niece, Fifi.

My thoughts had always been with you, my friend, and it always will. I thank you for being my friend, for having been there for me all these years and for just being the way you are. I'm sorry I never got to say that thank you to you but I hope you understood anyway.

Farewell, my dear, and be at peace. You have no idea how much I will miss you.

Oh When the Saints Come Marching In....

The first of May, or Labour Day has just passed and like most things, the Swedes have long standing traditions about it. And like most things as well, the Swedes of cos have celebrations for it.

Husband told me that marches will be held by the working class people. They will be gathering in the streets of most cities or towns, march together and protest.

And of cos the most natural question to pop up is, protest against what?

Well, to protest against the bourgeoisie and upper class and how they are exploiting the working class people, says husband with a matter of fact look.

What are you talking about?, I ask in disbelief, What exploitation? Your whole country is a welfare state. And anyway, the ruling government now is the political party for the working people!

Yeah, says husband again with the blank, poker face, that's why the prime minister is probably gonna march too in the protest in Stockholm.

The conversation was starting to sound ridiculous when I realised that the entire march thing is a tradition. All that protesting and marching of the unions is a tradition.

I have come to learn and accept that Sweden is a country of tradition. It would not be Sweden without it's tradition. Of cos every other culture and country in the world have their own traditions but I have never seen tradition gripped so tightly as by the Swedes. Even if the practice no longer applies, no longer exists, no longer has a functioning role in society, the Swedes will still continue on with the tradition just because they have been doing it for so long.

Don't get me wrong, Sweden is certainly a modern country and even the farming community is not, generally speaking, backward or third world. The mind set of the people changes, as do the way of living but the physical manifestation of a long standing tradition never seems to disappear and that is something I find quite admirable in a time when nothing is held sacred anymore.

So there I was all pumped up with the idea that tiny Askersund is gonna hold its own protest march and images of American protest rallies, banners and flag burnings flood my mind. I was rocking and ready to be rolling when suddenly I hear music in the distance. I run to the window of my apartment to see where the music was coming from and there it was. The protest march.

The marching band of the town was leading the march, followed by 15 men bearing a flag each. I have no idea what the flags mean but I think they could represent some of the multitudes of unions in Sweden and right behind them, the protesting mob.

It was then I swear I could hear a fizzing sound. The sound of my pumped up ideas deflating for there were probably 20 or 30 protesters, mostly in their 50s and 60s. Some were in their 70s, like husband's grandma who waved at us, just rolling along with their canes, rolling canes or motorised wheelchairs.

And it was quiet. Very, very quiet. Thank goodness for the band or I might have thought it was a funeral procession. So this is their version of marching. Just as well, since they don't really have that much to protest about. Life in general is pretty good.

After the disappointing march, we headed down to the town square where the annual gathering of motorcycles occurs. This was a tradition that probably started more than 30 years ago and it just grew and grew until the motorbike entourage now numbers in the hundreds with some years going beyond 1000 motorbikes! The ENTIRE square is covered with motorbikes and leather clad men and women.

Unlike popular belief that it is the youngsters who dress up and do these kinda things, the majority of the bikers are in their late 40s and 50s and I even saw quite a number of bikers who like they're probably 60 to 70! And all were clad in cool leather suits, from collar to boots with the occasional bandanna.

The cool thing about this tradition is that it is still considered an unofficial event since there is no advertising for it, nobody organises it, it is essentially like a grooup of friends (a LOT of friends) just hanging out for a few hours before heading out together to the street to another event in a small town called Skyllberg. And for those who don't bike (like us), we stand by the road and watch excitedly as the bikers head out of town and it looks just like a dirt bike rally with fans waving at the side.

The majority of the bikers don't go to Skyllberg but rather go on ahead towards whichever destination they had planned which I find really strange. But this is Sweden so I just accept and keep most bewilderment to myself.

In Skyllberg, there is a big party in a small football field(Sweden style which means a lot of hotdogs, beer and a band or choir or both) with the biggest bonfire I have ever seen in my life. When we arrived there, there was a procession (again) made up of mostly parents and young children all bearing a small torch (of flame) and they all walk up to the bonfire and throw the torch in, thereby making the fire even bigger. I would say the bonfire had a diameter of at least 5 meters and it burned almost 10 meters up into the sky (I could be exaggerating but it was HUGE).

What is interesting about this party is that the entire event is an annual thing and is made possible by one man. Many would call him The Man, Big Boss or even The Godfather (though not in a non mafia kinda way). His name is Gustav and he is the owner of the nail factory that is basically the pulse of the entire town. Most of the town residents work in the factory and Gustav also owns the water and electricity company that supplies the town. Talk about owning a town!

Gustav finances the entire event and the band that plays during the party is essentially his band. It exists only because he wants it to exist. He built the stadium that the party is held in and he determines who performs during the event which explains why it's always the Skyllberg marching band and Askersund's male choir that performs every year.

And the bonfire flares up and warms everyone for a ten meter radius and unlike in Singapore where it should be put out after the party, the bonfire is left to burn out and now, almost a week after Labour Day, it is still smoking. Even though the past few days had been raining, that damn bonfire is still smoking.

Amazing.

Lonely Cat Seeking Tom

I can't believe it's been almost month since my last entry. Lots of things, both good and bad have happened since April but life is generally still good.

Sussie the cat has made A LOT of progress with us during those weeks and I am so pleased to say that she now not only lets us pet her but she sleeps with us on the bed too sometimes. As husband says, she's gotten used to us and she's starting to like us. Sussie really likes hanging out on the bed and calling out to us so that we'd join her and pet her so I say he's absolutely right. But sometimes, when we don't come to her or we don't show her the attention she wants, this little kitty of ours sulks.

That's right, she SULKS! She will actually walk off to the foot of the bed (if we're on the bed together) and turn to face the wall. Ha ha! I'm serious! I thought it must be a fluke when I first noticed but she does it all the time when she doesn't get what she wants! Sometimes if I'm in the kitchen and she calls out to me from the bed but I don't come despite repeated meowing, I'll find her on the bed with her back to the kitchen door ie. me (the way the apartment is constructed, one can see the bedroom and bed directly from the kitchen)

Just think that barely 4 weeks ago I was starting to wonder íf she will ever get used to us and get comfortable in her new home. But comfortable she has been and curious she is. She loves to sit by the windows and look out at the birds (the seagulls are going crazy this time of year.). Some nights, we've found her lying on the high kitchen table (it's bar stools as chairs high) or climbing the tv cabinets and of cos it wouldn't be complete without her vain attempts at reading as we find piles of books taken out of their place in the bookshelf and onto the floor.

And I must say, our kitty Sussie is a rather polite little cat. As much as she likes getting on the bed, if either me or Mathias is already on the bed, she will meow at us and wait till we say it's ok to come up before she makes the leap. And once we have made the commitment to sit in bed with her and pet her, we are not allowed to leave the bed until she is satisfactorily petted. There have been times when we leave the bed to get the remote, a book or a glass of water and the moment she realises that we're leaving, she'd swipe at us and hold on with her claws cos she doesn't want us to go. So that's when a little discipline has to come in but I also go 'Awww' cos I know she only does that cos she doesn't want us to go.

Aawwwww....

But the past few days have been a little strange. Sussie, like most cats, is a nocturnal animal and goes wild in the wee hours of the night. We've gotten used to hearing her race across the parquet floor, the tinkling of her toy ball as she plays with it and even the occasional bump as she falls from wherever high spot she had been exploring. But recently, something else has been added to those nightly rituals, something more disturbing to us, especially husband dear who is a light sleeper. Something that wakes even me, the woman who sleeps like the dead.

Sussie has been meowing, crying and even screeching a little at night, all night, with the occasional intermission between screeches. And not only that, she seems to like coming into our bedroom to do that. She'd be by the doorway and meow and cry out at us until we call her up to bed in which she happily jumps up and starts nuzzling one of us (usually me cos husband can't be bothered). And it is only during this time of petting and nuzzling that she is perfectly quiet and content. But of cos seeing that this happens at 3 or 4am, I start dozing off a little as the hypnotic motion of petting Sussie sets in and I slowly stop petting her. When she realises that she's not getting anymore petting, she jumps off the bed and is quiet for maybe another 10 minutes before it starts all over again. Husband has resorted to shushing her (I've never heard anyone shush a cat before) but surprisingly it works! Not for very long but for 5 min after being shushed, Sussie remains calm and quiet.

So that was how it began 3 nights ago and we wondered if maybe she was just getting more affectionate with us. But then she started doing it during the daytime as well and sometimes would meow so loud we couldn't hear the tv. But then yesterday it hit me!

We had gone back to the cat shelter last weekend to pass them some new pictures of Sussie by the window and to update them on her progress. We found out that Sussie's sister, Alana, still wasn't adopted out yet cos she's still so anti social and afraid of everything. But we also found out that she had been sterilised just a few days before cos she started to get in heat and was getting into fights with other cats so they had to do an emergency sterilisation on her even though she isn't 1 year yet.

Sussie IS IN HEAT!!

Oh my! All that screeching, meowing and how she loves it when we rub and pet her by her back legs next to the tail now made sense! The people at the shelter told us that once she gets in heat, to send her to the vet ASAP cos female cats are not the most pleasant creatures to be around when they're in heat. No wonder Sussie is so restless nowadays and craves company and attention.

Yesterday was Labour Day so we could only make the call to the vet today. In order to get a decent night's sleep, we took the drastic step of shutting all the doors leading into our bedroom. I felt sorry for Sussie but it was in the best interest of all. Especially husband's sanity. All that shushing in the middle of the night can really drive one crazy. Ha ha! Of cos the cat didn't understand why we shut her out and we heard her meowing like crazy at first and even scratching at the door but surprise surprise! she calmed down after a while and meowed less than previous nights.

So all this time, our poor Sussie was just lonely and in heat.