Last week was spent being sick. COVID finally found its way to me, and five days were spent mostly sleeping and recovering. During the few moments I was awake, I watched the Harry Potter series in a marathon and longed for the beautiful spring sunshine, which is shining longer and longer now. I barely had enough strength to step outside onto the porch for a breath of fresh air, wrapped in a wool blanket.

It wasn’t a pleasant illness at all. I don’t get sick often, but when I do, it hits hard and drains all my energy. Well, this is now behind me, and hopefully, I’m heading into spring with stronger immunity.

Before I got sick, my sister visited, and oh, what a wonderful time it was! We hadn’t seen each other since December, and even then, it was only for a quick day. Before that, we met in the summer. She traveled here for the weekend, and we were able to spend some much-needed time together. Since it takes two days just to travel here, I deeply appreciate the effort my friends and family from the south put in to make the trip.

We went snowmobiling on the frozen river in the warm spring weather. The sun was shining, and it got quite warm in our ice-fishing overalls. Since neither of us is a snowmobiling expert, we drove slowly along the well-packed snowmobile trail, aimlessly heading north.

The sun was shining, it was warm, and the spring weather was amazing. We stopped by the riverbank on the Swedish side for a snack and some tea, facing the sun. For the first time this year, thanks to the warm weather, the snow had turned perfect for building a snowman. Since we weren’t in any hurry, we had to take advantage of the situation.

We sculpted Åke, named after the Swedish land we were on, from the slushy snow. His sparse but majestic hair waved in the spring breeze across his forehead. Åke had such a kind and sympathetic look that we couldn’t leave before giving him a companion, the eastern Chi-otter. The duo stayed there, gazing eastward across the river, guarding the arrival of spring and the slow melting of the river’s ice.

Our snowmobile is old and a bit quirky, and it didn’t start when we were ready to head back home. We tried all the tricks—blowing into the gas tank and spitting over our shoulders—but there wasn’t even a sound. I called a few people who know more about this kind of thing, we tried a few more tricks, and even Googled for solutions, but the snowmobile stayed put on Swedish soil, with Åke and Chi smiling beside us.

In the end, I called E, who decided to come help or pick us up by car. All we could do was wait and let time pass. We weren’t in any real trouble, though the sky occasionally dumped a good amount of snow on us before a light breeze cleared it again, reminding us that northern weather is never entirely predictable. Thankfully, we had plenty of warm clothes and good company, so the waiting was mostly just relaxing and laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

The rescue team arrived on skis, crossing the frozen river, carrying tools, fuel, and a couple of cream-filled donuts. Everything you need for snowmobiling!

Despite many attempts, the snowmobile refused to start and ended up staying right where it was. With cream-filled donuts in our bellies, we skied across the river and got a ride home by car. The snowmobile was retrieved later that evening with the help of a skilled friend. When he finally drove it into the yard, I asked what had been wrong with it. His answer was, "It just wasn’t in the mood to start." That’s how it goes with snowmobiles sometimes.

Thank you, dear sister, for visiting! I already miss you, but we’re one adventure richer now. Until next time <3