Once it gets below minus 10 ....

...it's still flippin' cold! Don't believe the hype!

In the Arctic circle, when your breath freezes on your balaclava and you think you might lose one, if not all, of your fingers as you've worn the gloves out snowmobiling that you've worn all day, so the accumulated dampness and sweat freezes them, it's more than just rub-your-hands-together cold!

I guess the landing at Kiruna airport and taxiing to the terminal, seeing a snowplough on the snow-covered tarmac, should have been a hint that we weren't in Kansas anymore.

And it wasn't too long before we were out in the elements....

Our first night was the hunt for the Northern Lights. And we weren't disappointed. Look, there it is there....

Coming back from our night of terror, driving (for the first time, and me - solo) our 750cc death machines, it turns out is was between minus 25 to minus 30 degrees. Beyond numb, but captivated by the Aurora Borealis in its bright green splendour, showing itself boldly and brightly at the 11th hour of our night out after a few whispy and underwhelming appearances earlier on in the night.

Thank goodness one of us had the sense to book us in the warm chalet that night. I've never been more thankful for heated bathroom tiles in.my.life.

Awaking from our slumber to a winter wonderland we readied ourselves for our stay in the minus 5 degree room in our super-sized igloo, the Ice Hotel. We explored the hotel's foyer, hall and many decorated and themed rooms...

beofre heading out for another adventure in Swedish lapland. 

Thankfully, this time we didn't do the driving.

Then it was back to more humble accommodation for our night on an ice bed before being woken for a morning cup of warm lingonberry juice. 

-++-

More than an ink polaroid...

Got a spare hour? Immerse yourself in a 'Pitchfork classic'. 

It's more than an Ink Polaroid, it's a documentary about Belle and Sebastian's early years.

I feel tres nostalgic - this was so a much part of my life in the late nineties (and beyond). It takes me back to great days when I lived in Glasgow.

Enjoy.

The treasure trove of 2013

This year I plan to read. A lot. This will be aided and abetted by a veritable goldmine of books that recently made its way into my clutches (sadly, from my mum's cousin, who was a librarian). 

It's so hard to know where to start - there's no chance to start my selection judging a book by its cover. As you can see, they are mostly Penguins - and I do like an orange and white combo. I tend to baulk at some of the authors (Satre, de Beauviour, Hemingway ... who wouldn't?!).

 ... but taking the dive I am reminded of the simplicity of Mme de Beauviour's writing, the alacrity of her travels, and depth and poignancy of her insights in post-war France, and the human condition.

When I wasn't in my iron lung over the Christmas break, I spent a lot of time tidying and filing, sorting and discarding from and within my life. (Maybe the existential literary excursion chose *me*?). Dad scored an old bookshelf for his cottage industry chutneys and relishes, the Salvos scored an old desk, I sold old computer stuff on ebay, and I must have filled a recycling bin with old papers. I treated myself to an expedit and malm to jazz up my study and, of course, to house my new library for 2013.

Bella also scored a new adventure.

Hap, hap, happy new year!

Good morning everyone! How's your 2013 going so far? Headache resolved? Resolutions made? Boxing day sales assaulted? 

I've had a cruisey few weeks - well, in the sense I've been house-bound, with a chest infection and spent a bit of self-imposed quarantine time on the couch. Sad face. I have had time to do a  bit of online shopping - especially in REread's shop. I've stocked up on some very funny cards for the year ahead. I also went to the Goldie to see in the new year in true Jane Austen style, for some healing  sea air.

It's been a few years since I've kicked off the blog with a 'year-in-review-in-pictures'. Last time I had to do some fast-footed editing with a prologue to the post. This year we've been spared natural disasters - things might have gone a little bit differently if the Mayan calendar/oreo cookie predictions were correct!

So, last year...

I had a haircut,

walked home from work more, 

did a bit more sport,

lured participants to do research at work,

went on some walks with friends,

and celebrated other friends' birthdays,

had a few trips to Melbourne,

to Canberra,

and to Tasmania, where we saw some old bridges, buildings, beaches and rocks, as well as some old and new art.

I also marvelled at the inventiveness of boat-namers.

I saw some pretty lights in Brisbane,

and found a new favourite website.

I did some BrisStyle markets,

and needed some slave labour assistance in the lead up to some of them.

The end of the year involved lunching with ladies,

and drinking with old friends....