I'm going slightly mad...

When the outside temperature rises, and the meaning is oh so clear.
(I know this one... spring is coming, right?)

1,001 yellow daffodils begin to dance in front of you,
(Wow. That's one impressive conga-line.)

Oh dear.
(Yes, darling?)

Are they trying to tell you something?
(Most likely.)

You're missing that one final screw...
(Thank you, Captain Obvious.)

You're simply not into pink my dear,
(That's a lie! I like pink.)

To be honest, you haven't got a clue...
(Tell me something I don't know...)


Speaking of nuts, I'm not the only one going bonkers here. The weather today has been CRAZY. I took one of the dogs out just now, thinking that I might as well, as the sun is shining so nicely. I got out, and it was raining. The sky above me was blue with white clouds, but it was still raining.

Walking to the end of the drive, the sun was shining to my back, the sky was blue above me, and in front of me everything was gray. Walking back here was spooky, as these huge gray clouds followed me and rolled all over the sky like a tsunami or something. The birds quieted, so the only sounds around me were the wind and the trees groaning because of it.

Once I got in, total darkness and thunder. Now, hail and sleet and snow.

Honestly...

Why am I losing it? Does the term 'mökkihöperö' translate? I don't have my dictionary here so I'll have to get back on you with that one. Let's just say that I need to get out more.

Why is the weather out of its mind? Beats me. But apparently it's only getting worse over the weekend. Hooray.

Now it's raining.

Day 92 - halfway through!

Like the title says. Today I've been here in England for exactly three months. Actually, almost to the hour right about now. In a way it only feels like it's been a few weeks, but also, like forever. The weather has been pretty much the same, and even though we have moved from winter to spring, with the lack of snow and everything else I'm used to in Finland, it's hardly noticeable to me.

I'm not having a very good day today. So far anyway. Back to work soon, so at least I won't have time to angst. Heh. But right now I'd like very much to go home, back to friends and family and cats. Not the same job, though. Eh, maybe I'll feel better again once things settle around here. It's been a bit... different lately.

Speaking of home, I already have a list in my head on what I want to do when I get back. Take a bath. Drink a bottle of Pommac. Eat Fazer blue. A lot of it. Sleep. A lot. Cuddle the cats. Most of these can be done at once, but I doubt the cat-cuddling and bath will be possible. Not without a lot of scratching anyway.

And most importantly, see friends and family again. I miss you guys.

Right now, back to work. Later, alligators! o/

New outfit for the blog!

This one was called Mr. Moto.

I. Could. Not. Resist.

Mr. Moto much humor!

*cough*

... heh.

Babbling about fantasy...

I’ve had a few days off now from most of the usual work we do here daily, so I’ve had the chance to draw, write and get utterly, utterly bored. I don’t have a scanner at my disposal, so can’t scan the few doodles I’ve done so I could work with them on the computer. So I’ve been trying to write something. Unfortunately my mind is too preoccupied with other things to actually concentrate on anything creative. So I’m trying to unwind here a little. Get the writing juices flowing again. All that icky stuff.

I think I was just turning twelve, or maybe thirteen; it was Christmas, most likely Christmas eve after all the presents had been opened, stomachs full of food and sweets, and the world outside dark as it could possibly be, when I sat down in front of the telly to watch a premiere movie from the film channel we had back then. The Neverending Story II. Some weeks later I would see the first movie, and later on come to realize how poor the second one was, but back then, it changed my world.

Thinking back, it must have been the day before Christmas eve, but that’s not important here and now. As soon as the holidays were over and the library bus running again, I found and borrowed The Neverending Story as a book, and fell even more in love with it. It was the first actual book I bought for myself a few weeks later (and I still remember how horrified I was at how expensive it was! Over 130 Finnish marks!). And after they showed a Finnish theatre production turned TV series of the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings, I was a goner. I was utterly lost in the worlds of fantasy. I would follow Taran and Eilonwy in Prydain, go through the wardrobe to Narnia, learn of the (endless!) travels of Garion & al, sail the Earthsea and have adventures in Krynn, and many many other worlds as well. For years I read and loved fantasy, and of course it affected my long-time dream of becoming a writer.

I think I was already in school before I learned to read, but after that I had a book with me everywhere I went. I could read for hours, and wanted to become a part of that world. Wanted to write a book of my own one day. My greatest fear (after everything regarding death) back then was that I wouldn’t have what it takes to be a writer. I do believe that anyone can write, of course, but I’ve also always believed that it takes a certain something to be able to write things that people want to read, stories that will catch them by the imagination and transport them to another time, place or even a world.

That was my dream, and fear. But I digress (I like writing that, makes me seem all sophisticated and shit.). I was thinking about fantasy while just taking the dog out for a walk in the spring rain. As said, for years I loved fantasy, grew up with it from a child to a teenager, from grade school to the end of high school. Of course my tastes of it developed as well, I grew to dislike some old favourites while others (The Neverending Story!) still remain close to my heart to this day. I began to look for more realism in the books I read. Realism in fantasy? Heh. But you know what I mean. To put it simply: someone dies, and they stay dead. That kind of thing. I must have been about 18 or 19 when I fell out of love with fantasy, got bored with it because of one series of books, which lacked severely in this realism-department. They were just silly, and not in a Terry Pratchett –way. This didn’t last long, though; just a few years later I got my hands on Robin Hobb’s Liveship-books and the love was on again. Her Farseer-books had been the last good books of fantasy I’d read before the break-up, so it wasn’t surprising that hers were the ones which brought me back to my roots.

Anyhoo, by then I had moved away from home, had my heart broken by my ex, and even traveled the world a bit. I was older, and my tastes had refined further. I still feel nostalgia when I think of those books I used to love, and even when there is sometimes a passing fancy to read some of the more important ones again, I don’t want to, because I think I’d dislike them now, and don’t want to spoil the good memories. That is not to suggest that I hate everything I once liked, not at all. Things and tastes change, that’s all. I still love fantasy, enough to reread some favourites and look for new ones. Enough to go back to the world I created at the age of 13, to visit those characters and to start writing about them again. Even though I now much more prefer urban fantasy to epic, preferably with a touch of cyberpunk (and steampunk seems pretty shibby as well!), there’s still something about fantasy… how, even when trying to keep a touch of realism (again with the death-thing and all that stuff) in it, there still are so many opportunities to go absolutely mad with it. And when normal life with its routines, long numbing days of work get to be too much, there’s nothing like going absolutely mad in your own little world, you know?

Right. Let’s see if all this gets me somewhere with writing some fiction...

Oh the wind, the wind is blowing...

Brothers. Sisters. Countrymen. I have seen the light. I have tasted that which is the sweetest thing ever:

Pour a bit of juice concentrate of your choice into a mug or glass, as if you were making a normal mug/glass of juice, but instead of water, fill it with MILK. Heaven, I tell you. Mmm-mm! It's like a milkshake, and takes about five seconds to make. Might be upsetting to the tummy, though, so drink with caution and not too much of it.

Things have been busy as hell here lately (and the net wasn't working for a while there...), but I can't complain that the work isn't versatile. Besides the usual stuff I have been a gardener, a metal worker, a carpenter and even a locksmith, and that's just the last week! I've built two trollies out of wood, dexion and wheels for large toolboxes (the size that two strong men could barely lift them, without the drawers in), and can now easily replace a broken lock spring into a door lock that is approximately 200 years old. Go me. ^^

What else is new... well, there's a bit of a storm going on here. Luckily no flooding around the house, just strong gales and rain. Although the skies are blue right now, it was raining heavily just a little while ago. Hopefully the worst of it is past us now.

A week from now I will have been here for three months. Crikey. Really does not feel that long. Halfway through the six months. I'm still completely lost with what I shall do once I go back to Finland, there are so many options. But there's still time to panic about that, and I have some plans forming. And right now I have other things to panic about, like learning to operate and record on a digibox-thing... I can barely manage a VCR!

Right-o. Off to work that out. Take care, everyone! Missing you... =)