Friday, July 14, 2006

I'm not blogging,

...I'm just w(h)ining. I don't feel like doing anything else than drink some cooled white wine and stare at the computer screen. I hate when that happens. I'm not doing anything in particular, just staring and feeling my eyes getting square. And then I take a sip of wine. My new favorite is a wine called African Foot. It's South-African.

Now, think about that name and think about how wine was made the old-fashioned way. If I had a weak stomach, which I haven't, I would probably not be able to think about it and drink this wine. Not only does it originate from South-Africa but it's name implicates that there are (non-white) African people slaving (for minimum wages) to stomp around among those grapes to make a good wine so that I, a white middle-aged European, can sit in front of my computer and whine about what an utterly dull life I have at this moment. Now there's a contrast if I ever saw one.

The scary thing is that I envy them. I'd much rather join them in that tub, squishing grapes with my feet than sit here just staring. For some reason I think they are much happier than we in the Western world are. Not because they have more to be happy about but when they squish those grapes I can't help imaging them laughing about it. But then again, in reality it's probably done by machines. The squishing I mean.

Anyway, I've done something useful today. I've been out with my mother's rottweiler. I cleaned out my mother's pool too because I had nothing better to do. I've picked and eaten some cherries from my mother's big cherry tree. They are some kind of old-fashioned cherries that are hard to get and they taste so much better than those almost black cherries that are available at the supermarket. These cherries have a clear redish colour and they are absolutely the best cherries I've ever eaten. And they are eadible even before they turn all red. This year, the tree is completly bursting with cherries. We won't be able to pick and eat them all.

I also uploaded three new pictures to flickr but you'll only be able to see them if you've got an account and are among friends and/or family. They're taken at the beach a couple of days ago. I'll upload a couple more when I can bring myself to it. I might even upload a picture of RedHead in her bathing outfit.

And to you who have commented on my previous post: I'm sorry I haven't answered but I'm just not in the mood to be witty right now. I love you and I appreciate your comments but sometimes I just... can't answer in a proper way. I think I'm well on my way to get another depression because I don't recognize myself anymore. Damn it! It's summer and I should be in a much better mood!


Anonymous said...

Upp med hakan vännen.. Inte ska du känna dig ¨så här. Fast, jag vet ju iofs att det inte är mycket man kan göra. Men försök att hitta nåt positivt och vackert i det lilla. Sätt dig ute på motorhuven och bara lyssna till ljuden omkring dig.. Känn doften från avgaserna och tänk dig bort till nån blommig och underbar söderhavs ö.. Stoppa händerna i vatten och känn kylan.. Tänk på vad det är du vill förändra och hur du kan göra det. För den enda som stoppar dig är du själv. Och du.. var rädd om dig!


Virginia Gal said...

Well shoot can't read the above post (stupid American that I am, don't know Swedish).

I'm sorry to hear about what seems to be a growing depression. I wish I had something witty or a magic answer to combat it....perhaps it is being of the school structure that is leaving you sad?

Oh I don't know, and I feel stupid trying to even analyze it at all, your probably thinking 'shut up Virginia Gal, who are you to say anything?' but please know there are those of us out here to listen.

Susan D. said...

You know, I haven't been able to muster the energy to post to my own blog lately and I was just starting to think that maybe it's because I (also) am starting to be depressed again... funny how the creative energies are the first thing to go when one is feeling depressed... just wanted to tell you you're not the only one. Blah.