Two and a half weeks have passed since I have started my new life in Sweden. The language some days, leaves Me frustrated, but I still push on to learn it. Many days have involved being in the forests.
In the distance, you can hear the chainsaw roar to life as we begin our clean up. It started out just two trees. But as a few days passed with doing this. It became about twenty trees. My body was beginning to ache from dragging the branches to multiple burn piles.
The cold was’nt clinging onto me anymore. Heat was now radiating off of me. Time for the hat to go. There was only a little bit of snow on the ground, but the temperature kept it there.
Today, I called the shots to have a relaxed day. My other half still stays busy outside chopping logs or cutting trees. But now I have time to write and study Swedish. Before he disappeared to the forest, he askes if I would do the dishes.
About 5-10 minutes pass and I’m in the kitchen working on my task. I grab a dish thinking it belongs in the top cupboards. I open them, and realize it must live in a bottom cupboard. So I kneel down and put it away. With such force, I slammed into the corner of a top cupboard. So much that it closed itself. I dropped to my knees immediately and grabbed my head. The pain shattered my thoughts. I began deep breaths and started calming. Once I pulled my hand away, it was covered in blood. Shit, I thought. With an aching beginning, i walked outside.
Birk could’nt hear my yelling with his earphones and working with a chainsaw. But once he saw me, his face became serious. Blood now dripped down my face. In just a tank top, underwear, and boots, I looked as if I should be in a horror film.
He rushed me back inside and sternly got me to sit down. It was a small puncture, now going to be my 3rd scar since moving here.
It seems I’m a walking accident. One day, maybe I will be able to do the dishes without any blood getting involved.