I might be in denial

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Look at that! That’s tiny lilacs in the making. Somehow I already believe that summer is here which is weird because usually I’m very sceptic about summer and it takes me a while to accept that finally has arrived. This year though I’m convinced that summer is already here, vacation is just around the corner and nature just hasn’t fully kept up the speed. Most trees don’t even have leaves yet but I’m sure it’s summer. The trees just haven’t gotten the memo yet.

Ten meter is quite a bit

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If you, like me, have problems understanding how long 10,5 meters are, I give you this picture. This is taken before I cut the ends so it’s a little fuzzy. There, in the distance, is Karin, kindly holding the other end. I think the longest lace I’ve made before was 80 cm (if you don’t count 120 cm before I signed up for bobbin lace class, I made lace for one and a half handkerchief when Lyndsey got married. I got the half one, with lace only on two sides. It then disappeared during the reception and no one has seen it since. I hope it wasn’t accidentally thrown in the trash but that someone found it nice and is now enjoying it themselves (and that they have a name or a cat or something that starts with an I because I put that in pink on it)).

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This is the pile I got from cutting ends. I think we figured out that I have used 250 meters of yarn in this one lace. That’s not much when it comes to knitting but quite a lot when we are dealing with lace. Now, I while have a welldeserved (bobbin) lace break and concentrate on my (knitting) lace instead.

Im Cabaret, au Cabaret, to Cabaret

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[with a german accent]
Meine Damen und Herren, Medames et Messieurs, Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fina Ina Blog is proud to present Fräulein The Lace!

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Yep, it’s true, the lace is done. All 10,5 meters of it. It happend in bobbin lace class and I feel giddy. The last pin was put there during applause from my friends at class. Then I spent the rest of the evening admiring it.

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Willkommen to my post-lace bubble. [german accent] We have no troubles here! Here life is beautiful. The girls are beautiful. Even the orchestra is beautiful!

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(See, I told you the orchestra was beautiful!)

It’s impossible to understand how much lace this is. Well, all I really care about though is that it’s done. It’s done!

My new buddy

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There is a Swedish children’s movie called “Can you whistle, Johanna?”, set in the 1950’s, that is always shown on Christmas Eve in Sweden. It’s about a young boy, Berra, who, together with his best friend Uffe, starts the search for a grandfather. He finds one at a home for the elderly and together the three of them make all kinds of fun things until one day granddad passes away. Berra is very keen on learning how to whistle and granddad tries to help him. Anyway, in this movie there is a middle-aged cranky man, Mr. Gustavsson, who is way too protective of his garden and the kids are very afraid of him. Mr Gustavsson has a beautiful garden with a great cherry tree (very popular with the kids) among other things and the most precious flower in his garden is a rose. Mr. Gustavsson constantly fusses around this rose, spraying it with water, picks bugs out of it with tweezers and so on. When granddad has his birthday, Uffe and Berra takes him out on all sorts of adventures, they watch TV through the shop windows , something granddad finds very amusing, and barbecue and other things and in the end they climb Mr. Gustavsson’s cherry tree to munch on cherries. All goes well until it’s time to climb down and granddad, who is getting quite old, falls down and Uffe and Berra are terribly afraid as Mr. Gustavsson comes out of his house as he has heard the noise. But granddad knows what to do. He stands up and talks to Mr. Gustavsson about television, something that Mr. Gustavsson has thought of buying, and granddad cautions Mr. Gustavsson about the waves that goes through the air, that the waves will be fatal for Mr. Gustavsson’s rose. To protect the rose, granddad advice Mr. Gustavsson so create a little roof made of tinfoil to put over the rose, which Mr. Gustavsson promptly does the very next day.

Shortly thereafter granddad dies and before the funeral Berra sneaks into Mr. Gustavsson’s garden and cuts the rose without hesitate. At the funeral he puts the rose on the casket and starts whistling.

I am just like Mr. Gustavsson about this bud that I found in my flower pot. I’ve had this plant for four years and it took two years for it to bloom the first time. Then it gave me six lovely flowers but as I didn’t spend much time at home during that period I couldn’t really enjoy them. Then it took another two years before I spotted a new bud but this time it only gave me one flower. That was earlier this winter and I thought I would have to wait another two years for new buds to sprout but no, look at this, it’s new bud. I keep giving it sips of water and talks to it and make sure it has enough light and yesterday when Julle opened the bedroom window without my knowledge I got very scared that my precious little bud had gotten too cold. I haven’t made a roof out of tinfoil yet though but I suspect that might be the next step.

My inner street dancer

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During Easter I watched some dance movies (mostly about street dance) and I realized how much I miss dancing. A few years ago I danced five to eight hours a week and now, nothing. I’ve never done street dance but all of a sudden I’m sure I need to bring out my inner street dancer. I know my friends doesn’t believe I have one but I’m convinced I do. I’ve experimented with some baggy clothes and letting my hair down and I think I’m totally in contact with my inner street dancer. To prove it I rocked at zumba today (which is totally not street dance but pretty darn fun) but due to Easter there was no zumba last week so I think I’ve gotten a little comfortable because today’s zumba was exhausting (that might also be because we did all the really fast songs with a choreography that involves a lot of jumping). I have been exhausted ever since, the afternoon at the office I could bare sit up straight, it was lucky my office chair has arm rests because otherwise I would have been constantly falling down on the floor and I was way too exhausted to get up again. I made it home eventually and I’m starting to feel a little better. I think I will go to bed soon.

Easter beads

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So, Easter is over and it was a great time. Good food, chocolate and lots and lots of lace. I made 18 pattern repeats, which is 30 centimeters, every day for five days. That’s 150 centimeters and I also added another 9 repeats to make it all 165 cm.

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I went from petal pink colored beads to dark green to light pink to lime green to raspberry pink to white. Now I’ve started on red. I think this lace might be done soon. I really hope that’s the  case.

From pink to green to pink again

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I had hoped to make one bead color’s worth of lace per day during the Easter holiday and I must say so far so good. I stick with one color for 17 pattern repeats, then make one beadless repeat to create a break before I get on to the next color and since Wednesday I’ve gone from petal pink beads to dark green beads and am now currently on light pink beads. Hopefully I will reach the white beads by Monday. Keep your fingers crossed.

Roller derby and floorball while picking flowers with the wolf

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So, Easter break has finally started for me. I’ve read Little Red Riding-hood in Polish, it took me an hour and a lot of help from google translate but it’s read. Now all I have to do is write my own version of Czerwony Kapturek. Let me also tell you that google translate is not very good at Polish (nor Swedish for that matter). There was a very sudden appearance of a meat grinder in the woods with Red, which struck me as a little weird. Also, after it turned out that the meat grinder was really the wolf (could that maybe be his roller derby name?) he explained to Red that people have often told him he has a deep voice and that he wanted to “create a youth team” (and I saw him forming a floorball team right there in the middle of the forest) but it turned out what he really wanted was to join a choir. After these excersises I deserve some well earned Easter break. It will be totally different from any other spare time I have. What I’ll do? Knit and bobbin lace of course.