That pretty much sums up January. Haha. Maybe you've already watched my latest video, which gives a good sense of the cold and what it's like living with it.

Not that I'm complaining. Just the other day, I was driving back home from the village, with a long list of tasks waiting for me—carrying firewood, walking the dogs, and heating up the cabin. I thought to myself, we chose this. If you want to live here, enjoy these incredibly stunning landscapes, the purity and emptiness of nature, it takes a bit of extra effort. We always live on nature's terms here. Always.

Otherwise, January has been filled with the usual. It feels funny to write about and film this "normal" life because it repeats itself so much, and it doesn’t always feel special or worth sharing. But that's what it is. And I do enjoy every moment, no matter how similar or work-filled the days might be.

The "normal" routine involves the household chores I mentioned earlier. To be honest, they take up most of the day. And now that I've decided we should only eat homemade sourdough bread and wear almost exclusively homemade clothes—at least when it comes to wool—that's where the time goes. Heating, baking, knitting.

In addition to all that, there’s a little time left in the mornings to go skiing. Whether it’s cold or not, we’ve been going out at least a couple of times a week for a ski loop or a trip nearby. It feels like we’ve been exploring "nearby" for almost a year now, but there are still places I want to visit, fells to conquer, and old forests to explore with their snow-laden trees. The surrounding landscape is incredibly diverse and inspiring.

Besides these activities, there are, of course, my personal projects. Soon, there will be another article, and I’ll share more when the magazine with my writings and photos arrives in the mailbox. It's been incredibly rewarding to write and photograph for such wonderful magazines, ones I've personally read for a long time. It feels almost unreal to think that now I'm one of the contributors, working alongside those whose creations I've admired for years. Maybe they once felt the same way, finding it hard to believe they’d see their own work in print. But it’s wonderful. I’ll share more about that later.

Whenever it hasn’t been freezing, it's been snowing. Over the past few weeks, I’ve lost track of how many tens of centimeters of snow have fallen—but it’s a lot. Clearing the snow (which I forgot to mention earlier on the list of household chores) has become a nearly daily workout routine. It’s enjoyable, but also quite the effort. Perhaps that sums up life in an old log house up north—pleasant, but quite demanding.

Besides the snow, the light has noticeably increased. By three o’clock, it’s no longer completely dark. Along with the soft pastels of the polar night, golden glows from the sun and bright summery blue skies have started to creep into the sky’s palette. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of watching how these colors shift and evolve.

Someone occasionally asks why I talk so much about the weather or the seasons. Or actually, the question was more like, why do I talk about them all the time? I paused to think about it myself, and the answer is pretty clear. It’s because they have such an immense impact on everyday life. They are everyday life. When you live close to nature, whether it’s dark or light outside, snow-covered or bare ground, and in what amounts, becomes vital information to plan your day.

If there's a massive snowstorm, it’s pointless to start shoveling first thing in the morning. That time is better spent heating the house and maybe baking. If the snow becomes heavy due to warmer weather, and the lake ice collects water on top, it’s a terrible idea to go skiing across the lake, because your skis will pick up water and ice under your weight. Been there, done that.

Everything is interconnected. I feel like we live entirely at the mercy of what it looks like outside the window in the morning, or what the weather forecasters predict for us.

These update posts have recently turned into something of a diary-like stream of consciousness. Some days are like that too—just grabbing onto whatever task comes to mind first. I suppose it’s the same for others?

If you'd like to hear about something specific or have any questions in mind that I might be able to answer, feel free to leave a comment at the end of these posts, or reach out via email (heisanna@sannavaara.com) or through social media. I try to respond to all reasonable comments and questions, and they bring me great joy!

Here we’re warming up the cabin, baking oat sourdough bread, and prepping a carrot cake for tomorrow. At the same time, we’re planning a ski trip for tomorrow. Nothing new, really, but still that unique kind of loveliness. I hope you find plenty of that in your days too.

I’ll share more about ski trips and magazine articles later. Wishing you a wonderful, cozy, and inspiring weekend!