Memoirous

There's something truly inviting about the European sleep system with the comforter tied up like a package, the down pillow, classic wool or homey quilt. The Swedish bed, in particular, is warm and cozy. Right now a steady rain is falling, but I'm inside and tucked into bed–a bed after over a week of hostels, trail huts, planes, and then last night, sitting up in a train trying to catch a few winks. I'm relaxed. Grateful for a bed I've also got pills. On my last night at a hut my roommate offered me a sheet of antihistamine tablets, saying he didn't need them since he was almost done. I gladly accepted his offer. So I'm set now for the rest of my stay. My friend from university, Lotta, picked me up at the Tranås train station and drove me to her yellow house on a small lake. Which do you want first, she asked: breakfast, shower, laundry, or a nap. They were all compelling in their own way. I chose food. The shower came between breakfast and lunch. Laundry a litt...

“Three Doors” is a small piece, 1,321 words, included in an anthology put out by The Writers’ Journal . I saw a call for submissions in Duotrope , an online platform that allows users to access lists of publishers and agents and offers a handy submission grid to help you keep track of submissions. I pay a subscription fee of about $100 a year for the service. I found the call under themed deadlines and the topic was doors  Ages ago I wrote a novel. I think like most of us, we all have a shelved novel, a manuscript in the drawer. Not to say it’s unloved or terrible or the work of a novice, but something that might make an appearance later. We haven’t given up on it. That’s the story with “Three Doors.” It is an excerpt from a novel I shopped around and even had an agent for—to no avail. It’s the piece that got me into Breadloaf—again, ages ago. What goes around comes around—meaning, I don’t know, I had a thing in there about doors. Doors to my character, to Tally’s heart. Afte...

I sent off “Names for Birds” to the Celtic Literary Review. Not all things are as they seem. About the Celtic Literary Review Journal : Our journal is a nonprofit, online magazine with one central goal in mind: to empower female writers. The literary world is a hectic place for all, and it is especially difficult for young women to have their unique voices heard. Through this literary journal based in central Ohio , we hope to provide a nurturing space for emerging female writers to explore and publish their work. The masthead is all female, diverse, and young—perhaps college age. Perfect for my weirdo piece—neither poem or prose, not necessarily original in that I took a list found online of names for birds—such as a murder of crows, a gaggle of geese and turned it on its head in light of recent headlines about entertainers and how they treat women, their women. “Names for Birds” will be out this Fall. “No One Goes to Albania” was accepted by Lowestoft Chronicle. Lowestoft C...

Before I left my friends all told me: Don't die. I know, it's usually bon voyage. But in this instance: solo backpacking in the mountains of northern Sweden there was actually a chance I could die. But instead I had the time of my life. Yesterday, upon arrival I was again offered lingonberry juice and a chat on the front deck. Some others whom I've been hiking with since Viterskalet were concerned about my leg, but I told them I was fine. I hadn't had to blow my whistle. In my fanny pack I have a small whistle, just in case. Before I left my friend and workmate Marilyn gave me a small oblong crystal to take with me. She didn't say it was for good luck or contained special powers, but it was more a journeying stone meant to let me know that I am loved and being thought of. After I fell, I felt it in my pocket. Still there! Whatever aura it has, it worked. This a.m., as is my wont, I was up early in order to pack with a mind towards pulling to the top stuff I might wa...

Today was the day of the big push. Maybe I should be glad to have the naysayer, it made me think about this day's hike and want it more. So happy to have done it!! First off this morning reindeer wandered into the yard while eating breakfast. The mountain was shrouded in low clouds. I waited. And waited. I couldn't wait any longer and left around 8:20. There was a metal bridge over a raging stream with cascading waterfalls. Then the climb/up began. It took me 4 hours to get to the top. I had an eating break in the emergency hut right next to the trail. There was also a porto at the top. There was a stoney walk around and then another significant up. There, there was a cluster of little lakes. Then more of a stoney walk. At one point I took a fall. Truthfully, I'm shocked I haven't fallen until now. There's a sense that one has: I'm going down and there's nothing I can do about it. Just try to land right. After rolling to my feet I took inventory. My foot mus...

I told myself: Do not let that horrible lady into my head. Yet, last night when I went to bed, I was obsessed. Before I left, folks wished me well, but also told me be safe. Hmmm. Some of my workmates did summer school abroad. We all bade them good luck, fall in love, have fun! When I go, it's don't die. When the warden said I couldn't go over the mountain it threw me into all kinds of self-doubt. This has occurred on other trips, notably when I biked from Amsterdam to Norway . As I was going up on the Lysevegen, I met a German couple loaded down on touring bikes. The woman, whom I just met, told me I'd never make it. I was confused; they were way overloaded and they did it. No, they'd taken a shuttle. Anyway, I carried on despite their negativity–and had the best down hill, switch-back experience of my life. So today was about redemption. I got up early and packed, ate breakfast and left at around 8:20. One guide said 15 km, some said 14. The longest is said to be ...

I've had a GREAT 3 days of hiking. I've been able to do the miles and climbs, no problem. That's why when the lady warden at Tarnasjostuga said to me that the day after tomorrow I couldn't go over the mountain, I didn't know what she meant. Was the weather turning bad? She mentioned I'd have to take a boat to Ammarnis. I was so confused. Later a group of trail runners arrived. They ran all the way from Ammarnis –about, I'm guessing, 43 km.-- I asked them about this mountain she referred to. I'd seen no mention of climbing a mountain in the notes about the trail and that particular section. They said there is an elevation gain of 1000 meters. The section is the longest at 19 km: 12 miles. I'm pretty sure I've trained for this. The only thing I can't predict is bad weather. I'm doing close to 3 km an hour. 15 up and down should take me 5 hours, add 2 more. If I leave at 8, I should be finishing around 4-5 pm. My pack should be light since I...

The wardens here at Tarnasjostuga are a middle-aged brother and sister. The brother huffs and puffs back and forth from the sauna to the hut to update me on the temperature and when I can come down. The sauna is by the lake. He says there is a whole procedure. I'm not sure if they are his rules or the typical Swedish sauna routine. He's a bit fanatical about keeping the fire hot. He explained to me not just how to load the stove, but left me with instructions on where to place the next stick of wood. First, I had to wash the body all over, which was great because it's been days. Then I could go into the sauna, which according to the gauge was vibrating at over 212 degrees F. I could literally boil. I decided to bring in a basin of cold lake water. I splashed my face and, using a loofah exfoliating scarf, ran it over my back, shoulders, arms and legs. I'd only been in 5 minutes and wanted to leave. I felt like such a weeney. I brought in more cold water to pour over myse...

When I arrived there was no warden to greet me. Usually they sit outside with lingonberry juice and say welcome! I came inside and I could hear someone on their phone. I helped myself to a cup of juice sitting on a ledge by the door and went back outside. Finally, I heard the conversation end. I came in and said I have booked a room. She answered, You have not booked a room. At first I was confused. You have booked a bed. I apologized, I've misspoke. She was not smiling or welcoming. But you can likely have a room to yourself since we will not be full. Next they usually show me around. She barely wanted to; I asked where the toilets are: Dass. She pointed to the sign. Okay. The kitchen was suffocatingly hot. She invited me to “warm up.” I was afraid I'd catch on fire. I took a bird bath and washed out a few clothes. Later I asked about the store. Again, the huts that had shops were usually only too eager to drive in customers. She said she'd open it if I wanted. If it's...

I wanted to start early today as I'm not the fastest hiker. Nevertheless, I hung out at Syterstuga until 8:45 a.m. I actually ate breakfast with folks and chatted some more. I think the camp host Ulrika and I made a good connection. The day's weather was a little iffy. Yesterday made it sound like rain was a real possibility and this a.m. there were thick clouds. It felt colder. I asked the girls in the organized group what they were wearing; we all were considering the idea that it could rain. Finally, I decided that I'd wear my tights and start with my quick-dry T-shirt, layered with my Icebreaker long sleeve, with the Kuhl shirt on top. If the weather changed I could add or subtract. One cool (pun intended) is that my next hut has a sauna. As I mentioned, the first 2 days were warm and sunny and today definitely had an autumn feel to it. I started out having to cross over a little land peninsula to get down to a lake I'd be following all day up to Tarnasjostuga. To c...

I determined this a.m. to go ahead and speak English and not feel foreign. If possible. So I ended up having several trail conversations, meeting hikers coming the opposite way. Actually there was no one coming my way the whole time. At the hut I was again welcomed and the warden was very friendly. A big group arrived and they are 13 Dutch hikers on an organized trip. They are not all exclusive and are very open. They also thrive on doing the woodsy outdoor chores and so far I haven't had to chop wood or fetch water. When I arrived at the hut I was offered a room with a basin so that I could wash up in the privacy of the room. I've been told I'll have the room to myself. Not like last night where I shared with a couple. Anyway, after cleaning up and changing into hangout clothes, I've felt so relaxed, chatting, charging devices with my Luminade solar charger, and having snacks. Body is getting adjusted to hiking and time zone. After dinner there were more conversations ...