… a Happy Jeep! Because of a soon-to-be new adventure, I needed a right-hand steered vehicle. It could have been anything, but it became a Jeep.

Now, after over 40 years of driving, internationally, from over the road 18-wheelers to a horse and wagon, in deserts and arctic snowstorms, in small villages to large metropolitan cities, left-hand and right-hand traffic…I’ve discovered the new dimension and challenge of…OFF-ROAD and 4X4.

Photo: “Jeppe”, at the Arctic Circle. One of many expected adventures.

A new driving experience! So, if I haven’t updated my blog, the dogs and I could be out with “Jeppe”, testing possibilities and limitations!

PS- Uh…I just gave Jeppe a shower.

The Lady has left us peacefully, today! For being a grand old dame, for which no one really knows how old she really was, perhaps 17, her kidneys were shutting down and she had become weaker and weaker these past weeks, if not since Christmas.

I can remember when she first came into our lives. We had been sitting around the dinner table on a dark evening many years ago, when some person my wife knew was coming by with “Lillan”; a strange name for a cat since it lacked the familiar “s” sound. My sons were young and we all were excited when the lady finally came in through the door holding a wide-eyed little tan tabby-like creature.

This acquaintance explained that she, in her turn, had gotten Lillan from someone else several years before, which explains the uncertainty of Lillan’s age, and now the woman was leaving Jokkmokk (I think she worked for social services) and could neither take Lillan along nor felt it fair to the cat. My boys, and especially my oldest, who had sorrowful disappointments with cats being run over on the main road in front of our house, were immensely pleased and we all were very willing to accept this responsibility. Little did we know at the time that this cat would prove to be an unforgettable delight in our lives.

The two most fears we had with Lillan was being smeared all over the road by a fast moving and heartless vehicle or being carried up the hill into the woods in the jaws of a fox needing a meal.

Photo: Cat`n a box

Now, Lillan was smart! She learned quickly that any sound of a vehicle would mean to wait in the ditch until it couldn’t be heard any more. Then, with this quietness, it was safe to cross over to the other side, where the river bank proved to be a popular and lucrative hunting ground. In the darker times of the year, she added the wit of waiting for approaching headlights to pass until she knew it was safe to proceed.

But the fox theory was puzzling! The first summer we had Lillan, she disappeared for what seemed to be all summer. She left no signs of existing and we all felt that ole riley Mr. Fox had taken her straight away. But, to our surprise and amazement, Lillan would show-up around when school started a new year. Somewhat thin, but definitely full of stories to tell and adventures experienced, had she been able to speak English or Swedish. She simply took a vacation from us this way each year!

Then, she rested contently the rest of the winter and only took the occasional mouse to keep in practice. She was a tremendous mouser and could pile up her beasts in front of the front door for us to (almost) step on, as we opened the door to let her in at night.

She could do tricks! One trick she learned quickly was the open-the-door-and-let-the-dogs-run-away trick. When she wanted in the house, she jumped at the doorknob, which in Sweden are not round but stick out to one side like a lever. Once she had this down pat, she loved to watch our dogs run out the door and, afterwards, strut herself proudly into the house with a small smirk on her face, as we humans would frantically run out calling for the dogs to come back.

Naturally, we had to change the door handle downwards to prohibit this act!

Photo: “Don’t forget Miss Moi, please!”

She laid down where she wanted to and at her leisure. She screamed demandingly for food in the mornings as soon as one woke up. She kept the dogs at bay as if she was a lioness training them and they quickly toed the mark with her. She could spend hours on my wife’s desk to watch the birds at the bird feeder, planning imaginary attacks and kills. She loved grill-style potato chips or, for that matter, any snack food and immediately climbed on a person, with drool running from her mouth, with only the mere sound of a snack package being opened.

As my boys became older and moved out of the house, I felt that I had the roll of guardian for Lillan. I’m more a canine person than a feline person and Lillan wasn’t the cat that craved attention or petting. She pretty much kept to herself and had her routines. But, we somehow found each other these last couple of years and I learned to love her wide, green eyes looking at me or when she would buff-up against my leg near dinner time. And, occasionally, she would fall asleep at night on my stomach or curled against a back or knee.

And, though it was sometimes bothersome, I enjoyed her reaching up and pulling my right arm at the dinner table, begging for food. I was always amazed that Lillan ate anything I would throw into her food bowl nearby, be it carrots, pickles, cucumbers, spicy curry food, macaroni or plain old anything! She ate! Anything!

But, these last couple of months, the lady has been slowing down. She had been losing weight in spite of eating normally, she would lay down almost in her pawprints and I noticed that she was drinking more water than usual. I always thought that her wanting fresh cool water was her reminder of living the wilderness life in the forest during summer.

Unfortunately, this was not true. Her days were closing in on her and, though she survived the road,the foxes and near death at giving birth to several dead fetuses, she couldn’t survive kidney failure. It was her destiny, somehow, and today we allowed her to rest the rest she so badly needed. It’s tough when you love an animal. But, isn’t that what love is?

I know there are people who are very fond of cats and who will swear to how great their cat is, or was. I can appreciate this and understand. But, speaking for my family, Lillan is going to continue to be in our memories and lives. We’ll miss the turned down doorknob, she standing on the window sill wanting in on a summer’s night, the placing of foodstuffs out of her reach, her lying on the kitchen table under the warming kitchen lamp, the long drinks of water she did, straight from a running tap at the kitchen sink …I even think the dogs are going to miss her! The house has lost its night watchman.

Sometime later, we will all probably find her again in another life and then we can tell her how very happy she made us and how honoured we had been with having her! Thank-you so much, Lillan!

“Thank-you, too!”

…when considering some things that are happening in this world. After a week away in the Västerbotten mountains and without television, I’ve listened to the mayhem of worldly actions on the radio and have felt a bit like a lemming.

I would venture in saying that, like many others in the world, Swedes are a pack of mutual admirers without the ability to say, “The Emperor doesn’t have any clothes on!”. Seemingly, they enjoy being acceptable and having the same beliefs and expectations of this order.
Photo: A Scandinavian lemming
Unfortunately, they are too ready to place criticism into a rhetorical corner and willingly discuss problems for, literally, years without reaching results nor conclusions nor positive changes.

Therefore, the lemming. A week in the mountains gives a distance to this circus. But I sometimes think that it’s only a matter of time that we all will run until we find that cliff to jump off of, possibly be pushed off of. Or, is it closer than we can imagine?

A small reflection…perhaps we need more courageous little boys and less lemmings?

…I stop to contemplate my past Halloweens as a kid in perspective to me as an adult.

Photo: When you think of how Halloween has become, it’s pretty scary!

I enjoyed Halloween in the U.S. tremendously. My parents always made certain that there were pumpkins to carve and my mother would always give tips or provide help with costumes. Dad always chose appropriate candies for the expected visits of small ghosts and goblins and kept aside sturdy paper bags for us boys. Before we headed out for “trick-or-treat”, both parents would renew warnings about dark places or strangers we didn’t know and to be careful in the dark. Trick-or-treat was in the evening time when I was a boy. Halloween was fun and…innocent.

Now, as I see how Americans must go door-to-door during daytime hours, often accompanied by parents in cars, and hear of vandalism and people being assaulted, and as I see how more kids are only concerned with the amount of candy they get, as they race from one neighbourhood to another to another with sugar as motivation, I question the whole idea of Halloween. How has this happened and Why do we continue with it?

I do know that my father’s last Halloween was not what he expected. No one came to his door. He was all alone, as my mother passed away earlier that year. He was sad, he told me.

I think the worst part of Halloween is the ridiculousness of Sweden having imported the holiday. When my boys were young, it was brand new and, as their parent, I felt it good fun and a cultural initiative to their American background. We had to plan certain houses beforehand to go to for trick-or-treating so they wouldn’t be disappointed with our own enthusiasm.

But, now, I wonder if it was worth it all. Sweden has made Halloween into something entirely commercial. This was the in-between-holiday that Swedish businesses needed to increase sales profits before the big holiday of Christmas came. And many Swedish kids use it as an excuse to create messes or other tomfoolery. Is this what Sweden, or others, really want? Is this how America wants Halloween?

Let’s take time out this holiday weekend and re-consider and look for better alternatives. Find time to enjoy it without the b_s_t that has been artificially created, and forced on us, and think of how nice it is to just be…! Stay safe out there!

For myself- I’m heading towards the mountains in Västerbotten!

…should be scaring everyone in the world! Its increase is affecting all of us and it’s reality is truly blood-chilling. My thoughts went quickly to a blog I recently wrote defending a Shetland blogger who declared that money can’t buy happiness. As well, I just wrote about how outdoor skills can be useful to everyone for future needs.

So, what does finding happiness and outdoor skills have to do with the American debt?

Photo- Pleasure boat sales at the Cleveland Sport Show 2006

According to a spectacularly interesting website by Michael Hodges, the American debt, “…defined as the sum of all recognized debt of federal, state & local governments, international, private households, business and domestic financial sectors, including federal debt to trust funds – but excludes the huge contingent liabilities of social security, government pensions, Medicare and other government off-budget items.” comes to an estimated total of $48 trillion, or $161,287 per man, woman and child! (Read page 2- What is 1 billion?)

Mind boggling, isn’t it? How will America pull it off?

With these circumstances, it would be difficult to defend any logic that America, and countries hooked-up into its economic system, will not wind-up bankrupt given time. It doesn’t take any special amount of education for that thought. For some reason, I have visions of a new Dark Age enveloping the earth. Economic bankruptcies! Climate change! Wars over fresh water! The apocalypse?

Photo- Tanzanian orphan collecting grasshoppers for breakfast 2005

So, as we consider our own consumption attitudes, other nation’s exploitation of third world peoples and other nation’s waste of the earth’s resources for unnecessary “things”, let’s also consider the true meaning of happiness and how we can better get along with our lives, with nature and with the outdoors using skills we’ve learned. We may all need them someday!