Sometimes when I am driving I get this crazy, almost panicky feeling if I try to pay TOO much attention to everything happening around me. It’s like my brain suddenly realizes just how many intersecting paths, actions and possible interactions are occuring in front of me- and then before I just about freak out- my brain intercedes and tunes the extra stuff out so I can focus again on the key things happening around me.
How about this other experience? Occasionally while I am weaving, I will start out excessively clean in my regard for each and every special, special throw of the shuttle. I am, “oh so” aware of the way I am positioned, how the yarn is behaving, how the cloth is developing , my hand motions are spare, precise even artful, and I start kind of having fun, yeah….getting in the groove, you know…
I start thinking, “…I am so awesome, the music is perfect…ah! what a nice day! This rules! Checkitout! …whooo HOOO….yea! UMM HMMM!!…my back doesn’t hurt at a……”
“WHAT?!! what is THAT….have I been doing that all along?! ….ugh. jeez.” (when I come to my senses I realize I have been doing some cray, cray thing….and SHAME descends upon me.)
I finally learned how to make a weavers knot. I have been taught this many times, but not by a left handed weaver (Vibeke). I got really fast….and of course thought I was way too fancy for words..and…..you know..hence the inclusion here…..anyvays…..1320 knots..BAM! Done.
Luckily, I am not skiing downhill or skateboarding, so I don’t end up with broken bones…just annoyed that I made a bit of a mess.
Attention and focus is one of those miracles of the human mind. One has to constantly recalibrate and tune in to the environment that you are in. So then…what happens if you jiggle things up a bit, such as leave home and go somewhere else?
Usually when I travel, I am mostly passing through….my trips haven’t been more than a week or two and I am constantly shifting around. So, I don’t exactly have to use the environment- as much as perform in spite of it.
It helps to be able to find your way out, find your way in, and find the bathroom.
Exit- google translate says: “output”….how logical.
Entrance: actually….I have no idea really….my investigative explorations got me pretty much nowhere with this one….but I can tell you that:
a. this is on a door inside the barracks where I am staying.
b. the little text there says: “exit”
3. um…..got to admit that, that letter…the one that looks like a “DON”T” sign…fools me…and what is the fun of asking someone? (the hidden theme of this post is speculation…and the fun of guessing what it happening before I become familiar enough to actually understand.)
Bathroom….this sign is in the basement of the barracks where I am. One difference in my stay here is that most of the time, I am in a work environment. The factory here has ISO 9000 certification ( i hope i heard this correctly). So there are many requirements for signage, safety and etc- for an example, that are not typical for the tourist. I am not sure how this effects the signage in the barracks. It is all very professional…and artistic.
So, the picture on the right..here is the bathroom and the signage on the door indicating that this is the ladies room at the factory. It’s lovely isn’t it? There must be some requirement that there is segregation of the sexes…because I peeked into the strange and scary room behind the “guy” bathroom……looks exactly the same. This was exactly the same case for the bathroom in the barracks, except for this:
I am pretty sure I know what this means. And in case anyone is wondering if I have an obsession with bathrooms or something….really? When you travel….what is one thing you end up thinking about more often than you are used to? The REAL purpose of this image is to focus in on the “underscored text”.
If it is underlined…..it must be important!! Which kind of makes it funnier(or stress inducing) when you can’t read it.
This is a note that I found on the kitchen table.
hmmmm…. emphatic underlining of the word, “BRUK BLOKKBOCKSTAVER”. Because there are posit notes nearby…my super powerful brain intuits that this word must be related to them…the postit notes. However, what is the emphatic underlining trying to say to me? I turn around and see this in the corner….
Obviously, someone is quite the cut up. I have still only very briefly seen anyone else in this house…they are all guys..some younger..some less so. And, I will share this. I have snooped (!) in the fridge to see what they are eating….it’s sausages. Lots of sausages. Okay..slight exaggeration for dramatic effect. There is also swedish milk. Okay…okay…there are also containers of home made food..but, I haven’t stooped to snooping in those. Anyway, I don’t see any postit notes anywhere. Full disclosure: Vibeke did tell me that the note said, “you can use these postit notes to label your food”…or something like that. But then, I had another dilemma, if I am the ONLY one doing that, do I become that annoying roommate that labels everything..or should I be in the cool kids club and just copy everyone else’s behavior? I didn’t take a picture of the overflowing trash bags in the kitchen. Roommates are basically the same EVERYWHERE...truedat!
How about this….? Right outside my door.
I apologize for the blurriness. If I wait till I go back to the barracks to retake this shot, I will never get this blogpost out….but um…is that son of the monopoly man?
These look like rules of behavior to me…..
That is a bag of money. He looks as though he is just chillin’ and dreaming….’bout his do-ray-me.(?)
I decided to move my desk to the window side of the space where I work..which is where I am posting from right now. When I stay till early evening, the moon rises in front of me.
I took a few other pictures of kitchen signs with !!!!!exclamation !!!!! points that I couldn’t figure out…and etc, but I am feeling now as though I have kind of made my point. I wouldn’t want to beat and eat a dead horse..so I will move on.
Check this out…
I left it nice and big so you can read the numbers.
The exchange rate was something like: 5.65/1 dollars…round there…doesn’t matter….585.54 in any currency seems alarming…AND….AND….it looks as though I paid $4.35 for a chocolate bar ( a good one- cause basically you have to look hard for bad ones). and I’m like, “well…..I ain’t giving up my chocolate so…..”
So, food is more expensive here. There is a breakdown of the taxes or whatever at the bottom of the receipt….I will probably ask about that..(speculation: not so fun if chocolate is at stake)..some of the items have + signs next to them some don’t…IDK. Also, you can buy beer at the grocery store until, I think 7 0r 8….that is 21:00 or 22:00 (yeah….i did wake up at :34 at night…what a kind of time is that?). I don’t drink beer really, so, I have been medicating with tea and chocolate. Wine and alcohol is sold in special stores and they haven’t been on my agenda so far.
I have a kind of an addiction to 1/2 &1/2 in my tea and/or coffee. They don’t do that over here. Nope…it’s black coffee ALLLLLLL day. So at the barracks, I think I am set up okay, and here, I have been using the healthful milk provided in the lunchroom. Today, I spotted a dusty box WAY up on top of a cabinet in the coffee area “at work”.
I totally climbed up there to check it out. (hope I don’t get in trouble).
It’s creamora or close enough.
So, after a week, I am kind of set up, I’d say. I did laundry last night. I used to have a Bosch washing machine, which finally broke, and was probably too small, but after washing my clothes last night I realized, how much I miss it. Our washing machines aren’t as good in my opinion. I wound most of my warp this week and have been preparing files to weave. I have also been studying the new looms. I have to confess, I didn’t bring enough yarn. I haven’t been able to be this ambitious before..I think that is my excuse…so I am waiting for another delivery to finish winding.
So basically, the days have been fairly predictable. Work starts around 7 here,
I have been riding a bike to work. I ride right across an airfield and runway.
Everyone lunches in the lunchroom. (pics another day)
The day ends earlyish by our standards. Then – I ride my bike back to the barracks.
This is me taking the long way back for some exercise…I am going around the airstrip. I am counting on my decades old skill on the bike to take a picture while riding on a bumpy surface.
All is good.