If I ever needed a reminder that I am married to the world’s most wonderful man, Sunday was one of those days that really brought it home to me – yet again.

You may have received the very slight, subtle, barely visible impression (okay, it was more like the a-la-sledgehammer sort of subtle) that I’m not really a happy camper at the moment. What with the combination of my least favourite month, the hassles with the renovations going on in our apartment building and the shortcomings of living aboard a sailing boat as winter approaches, my mood has been somewhat subdued lately. I do try and keep positive, keep in mind that it will soon be over and try and look at ways I can help myself, but it can be a pain at times. I was feeling a bit like I was living in limbo.

I guess I’m the sort of person who has a strong nesting instinct, someone who likes to have a secure base around them. If I feel that security, I can then feel confident to venture out and enjoy what Sweden has to offer – to grow and to learn and to see something of value in every new experience and challenge I come across.

But that’s not how I’ve felt lately.

And poor Lars-Göran has had to bear the brunt of my changing moods. No, I’m not yelling, screaming, throwing things or sulking. It’s more that I was sad and a little lethargic. I didn’t want to go back to the chaos of the flat, even just to see the progress. Can you blame me, when I opened the front door to be confronted by the hallway looking like this?



I was getting tired of the trek to the shower, even though I should be grateful that I have clean, hot water to bathe in. Taking a shower at the moment involves rugging up well in coat, boots, hat, scarf and gloves and tramping along 200m of slippery pier, then a 15 minute walk to our clubhouse to use their facilities. Repeat on the return journey, but not with wet hair as I discovered the other day, when I had frozen rasta-style dreads after a few minutes outside. It’s not really an inviting prospect when it is dark and snowing.

And with the sheer amount of extra stuff you need to have in order to survive an industrial strength Swedish winter, it is getting a little cramped on the boat. And yes, I know I should be grateful that we have somewhere warm and cosy to live.

I worry about keeping everything warm and dry enough for the dog and the birds, who must live on the boat with us.

I also miss having my broadband connection and daily interaction with my friends online. In fact, some people are writing to see if I'm still alive as I've been so quiet.

In fact, I’m not as “at home” on the boat as I am in the summer and I don’t have the comfort of a land-based home either. Yep, I’m feeling a tad sad and isolated. I keep looking longingly at tickets back to Australia for Christmas. But with just the plane tickets at over 11,000SEK each, it is not a viable option. And anyway, what would be do with the pets? Besides, no-one can solve a problem by simply running away from it, can they? So I grit my teeth and soldier on.

Lars-Göran has been popping home to the flat several evenings this week for a couple of hours at a time. I never asked why, though I understood he wanted to ring his mother, to check the progress of the builders etc. And he brought back pictures to show that now the plasterers have finished:



And that the new cistern system for the toilet is in place, ready for the tiling work to be done:



On Sunday, it was skyltsöndag – the first day of Advent – where the local shops light up their Christmas window displays for the first time and people set up their window decorations. I love this time as the extra lights really brighten up the town, which glitters in the darkness like a little fairy village. Lars-Göran told me that I should accompany him back to the flat that day and on the way we could look at the town lights. I was lukewarm to the idea of going home (it just doesn’t feel like home at the moment) but happy enough to enjoy the skyltsöndag displays around centrum.

Imagine my surprise to find that my darling man, knowing how down I’ve been feeling and knowing how childishly enamoured I am about Christmas, had cleared out a lot of the crap clogging our living room, has cleaned the room and (best of all), he has set up the beautiful brass stars and advent lights in the windows.

It feels like home again, at least in that room. I was so happy, I cried.

I have the very best husband! He’s strong, helpful, considerate and so hard-working. Mind you, I could do with a little less bluntness and honesty sometimes, but it's a small price to pay. I feel truly blessed.

Our first big snowfall arrived yesterday morning and looking out of the boat window, I saw my town looking so pretty dressed in white.



I feel so cheered now and looking forward to moving home in a few short weeks. Meanwhile, it’s Christmas market time on the weekend, I’ve started with the evening glögg ritual again and I’m looking forward to meeting up with some of my friends for a shopping, lunch and gossip session later in the week.

Life is looking so much brighter again, thanks to my man. So keep in mind that it's always darkest before dawn (which means that if you're going to steal your neighbour's newspaper, that's the time to do it).