From the border

After the tribulations of my last week of teaching and life, this post very well could be entitled "from the border of insanity (and back)" but that is not where I would like to focus this blog entry.



On Thursday, I went to Narva, the Estonian border town with Russia, to work with a group of teachers. Although it did snow a bit and was rather blustry, I had a chance to take a walk and once again admire the dramatic border of the Narva castle, river, and impending Russian fortress on the other side. It is a spectacular border and view.

Not only is Narva characterized by this physical border with its neighbor but also by the predominance of the Russians who live there (a minority elsewhere in Estonia). You can feel that you are on the edge of something different beyond language. I cannot quite explain it myself but I like the "something different" in Narva--perhaps because it is different (or perhaps, as a friend suggested, it is my inner Slav who feels more at home). When I rode the bus back to Tartu, I felt like I was returning from another country much farther away... and I thought that I would like to go back.



I've visited Narva before, always for work-related purposes, and I've decided that I would like make a return visit to enjoy Narva when the weather is nicer. Perhaps I'll even have to attend the Narva Bike 2011 to get my fill of border city and biker subculture.

Twelve hours

Today, on the first day of spring, as it gently snowed outside of the window as I worked, I did not cry. I made the most perfect cup of coffee to dissuade any negativity. As I sipped, the caffeine persuaded me that twelve hours of daylight was indeed a convincing sign that seasons are in flux.

See for yourself the amazing product of my new coffee machine, neatly displayed in a promotional coffee mug from UT. And, if you feel compelled to join my caffeinated spring-time revelry, come over for a cup of coffee!

Birds

One thing I really enjoy about living in a place that is so walkable is that it gives me time to observe my surroundings and a chance to stop and watch or listen. This week, I caught a bunch of fat, black birds in action. (Sorry, I really cannot identify the exact bird; I am not much of a bird person -- if you happen to know, I'd be happy to discover!)

They were gathering branches and flying up to the tops of the still bare trees to put together nests. When the birds' flight refocused my attention upwards, I was surprised to see so many nests built together. I stood for a long while strangely observing these birds busily getting ready.







My weekend has not been spent in the trees, but I have been gathering up loose ends and cleaning my nest. I am getting ready for something -- I can feel that it is time for some change, even if the snow continues to fly outside of my window. Sometimes it feels good just to be home, taking time to sweep, gather things together, fix a meal, use the sauna, and hunker down. Anything else would simply be for the birds!

Sunshine never felt so sweet

My way to the University from home

As I slipped and sloshed on my way to work yesterday, I couldn't help but snap a few pictures up of what was a gorgeous, sunny day. Spring is apparently on its way to the Baltics, even if it creeps "üks mikromillimeeter päevas..." or one micro-millimeter per day, as a friend of mine says.

There was a lot of evidence today: during my run today I heard birds chirping and saw several people sitting outside just soaking up the sun in the pose of sunflower -- eyes closed, face oriented directly at the sun to capture those sweet rays of spring time. A student in my morning class was wearing sneakers (no boots!) without socks. It's very possible that he may not have had clean socks to wear; however, I also felt on the verge of breaking out sandals at the balmy 37 degree weather. As we come nearer to the spring solstice, the days are elongated. Sunshine streams in my bedroom window before 7:00 a.m., and I noticed on my way home that it was still light after 6:00 p.m.

Today, my down coat was a bit too heavy, and, as I was walking to meet a friend for coffee in the afternoon, I had the fleeting notion that it would be heavenly to sit at an outdoor cafe! This is what above-freezing temperature on a sunny day does to you when winter has gone on just a little too long.

Here are some pictures for illustration and your entertainment. I am not exactly sure when all of this is going to melt. I can hardly wait for those tulip and daffodil bulbs I planted last fall to peak their pretty sprouts out of the ground. However, I am grateful for a nice day, melting snow, and a glimmer of hope that spring has decided to make its way here, micro-millimeter by micro-millimeter.

These are ruts in the ice (the road is somewhere far, far underneath these layers)

Notice the high snow barriers on the side of the streets made of solidly packed snow and ice.

The treacherous icy path down Lossi Street in the center of town

Consider yourself lucky if you manage to slide down without a twist or fall. I can't wait until we have traction again!

Someone started to pick away at the ice near the bottom of the hill -- uff! Look at the ice layer.

Craftiness in this new year

I've also been busy knitting up a storm (those long trans-Atlantic flights do give one a bit of devoted time to needlework!). Here are some of the latest projects from late last year and early this year.



My first pair of socks knitted for my mom for Christmas:


A scarf I knitted for my dad for Christmas (mostly in the Toronto airport during a twelve-hour layover in route, I must add):





A pair of socks for a good friend who appreciates colorful things (knitted primarily on the way back to Germany after Christmas):



Another pair of socks that I made over the holidays for my knitting mentor friend (my gauge is really small, so I am hopeful that these will stretch and fit!):





A knitted scarf made with funny bobbly sort of yarn that was a gift from my husband's Oma:





A scarf that I made with hand-dyed Montana wool for my mom (appears she was jealous of the scarf for Dad!):







Whoa! I am getting rather crafty, it appears. I guess I can't help but wonder at it all and it feels good to share the joy I am getting out of it. Next on my agenda? Another pair of slippers in maroon (pictures forthcoming!).

Where ya been?

Well... the answer is convoluted as always, but here is the short of it.

In Florida (sounds like a tropical paradise, and it certainly is a tropical paradise in comparison to the Baltics in the winter) for an all-American family vacation with the Big Mouse and a stylin' side trip to South Beach and even out to Key West. We can now say we've been to the very Westernmost tip of the nation.



In Germany for New Year's with family and some gourmet dining (see previous post for a full run-down and degustation).

In Missoula, Montana for a month of work with some wonderful elementary school teachers visiting from the Korean National University of Education. Mountainous scenery, fulfilling work with some energetic colleagues and partners-in-crime, tasty microbreweries. Who could ask for a better winter respite only 600 miles from home in Wyoming?

From Winter Missoula Jan 2011

In Estonia once again where the temperatures have not risen above freezing since my arrival 10 days ago. It's frigid, but there are piles of snow everywhere and the sun has not disappointed with ice crystals hanging in the air and sparkles glinting everywhere. (Pictures taken last weekend while skiing in Otepää, the winter capital of Estonia.

From Winter Estonia February 2011

From Winter Estonia February 2011

From Winter Estonia February 2011