I am making active efforts to meet new friends.

I’m an introvert but, it turns out, not a hermit. With no more husband and now mostly just one child every other week, I feel a need for more company. And more outside impulses: it’s not just talking to someone that I miss, but going to places I wouldn’t think of going on my own, trying new things.

My colleagues are fun but I don’t know that I’d want to spend even more time with them. My childhood friends are far away. I’ve grown apart from most of my friends from my student days and don’t feel that I have much in common with them. My hobbies are such that I only meet retired ladies, and I really don’t feel that I’m one of them. I don’t want clones of myself, but there needs to be some common ground for me to enjoy someone’s company.

Now I’ve joined an online friend network-ish site – not a dating site but just a place to meet people – and had two great “friend dates” today. Fika with one, and a long walk with another. We tried a new café, and walked along paths that I’ve never walked before, and had great conversations.

The plan for the walk was agreed a week ago, and even yesterday the forecast for today was “partly cloudy” and around 7 degrees. What we got was windy, overcast, and with intermittent sleet. We looked at the sky, looked at each other, considered cancelling, but went ahead anyway.

At one point we passed a small sauna next to a pier, and there were four brave people on their way into the water for bathing. Not running from the sauna into the water and back out again, but leisurely walking towards the water or even just standing around in their swimsuits. Meanwhile I was wearing four layers of clothing.

The photo is a view of Årsta bridge between Södermalm and Årsta. I wonder what the graffiti painters have stood on for painting those designs. Canoes? Ice?

Easter Sunday, with all its traditions. None of the traditions can be changed at all. Which is a bit boring, but I’m OK with that. Who knows how many more Easter celebrations I will have before Ingrid goes off and starts her own traditions.

Things that can be varied: What kinds of herring to serve. What topping to use to decorate the devilled eggs. What design to paint on the eggs. What pattern to use for piping the merengue on the pie.

I ordered new summer tyres for the car about a week ago. Got a delivery the day before yesterday – of three out of four tyres. Now it’ll be at least another week before I have the full set. Annoying.

Two pairs of gift socks all done and ready to be given away.

I briefly considered making standard toes on these (maybe they will think these look weird) but there is just no world where a symmetrical sock toe will fit someone’s feet better than a more foot-shaped one. Even if their toes are at a different angle or their second toe is longer than their big toe, or whatever odd shape they may have, I am absolutely certain that they will be closer to this than to an equilateral triangle.

We decorated Easter eggs at work, and ate Easter-themed fika. I also got a giant (on my scale) Easter egg with candy that I have no idea what to do with. This is my Active Solution-themed egg.

View from Traneberg bridge. The high point of my morning bike commute, literally and metaphorically.

The temperature was a couple of degrees below freezing this morning, and that’s the limit of my clothes and equipment for cycling. It was just a bit too cold for the first 20 minutes or so, especially for my fingers, until I got to Brommaplan and into the sun.

After literal years of practice, how can I still struggle to start a workout session? None of the arguments seem to bite and the body just resists it.

I know it will be fun once I have started. I know it will feel good when I’m finished. I know it is good for me. I know I can do it.

And still I have to push myself to do it.

Looking back, there has been progress. It is actually easier than it used to be. I no longer need to tell myself that I’m allowed to not finish, and I no longer convince myself by picking the shortest videos.

What works? The usual stuff. Committing in advance. (Twice a week, on the weekdays when I work from home, at lunchtime.) Not allowing myself to think about it. (I said I was going to do it, so there’s nothing more to it.) Removing all obstacles and smoothing the way. (Paid subscription, with plenty of videos I’ve tagged as favourites. Gym clothes and equipment in easy reach.)

I am envious of the people who go to the gym with a spring in their step and who look forward to it.

My half-teaspoon measuring spoon fits perfectly inside the opening of a standard spice jar. Not theoretically perfectly, with no space between the two, but practically perfectly, with just enough room that I can put the spoon inside and scoop out some of what is inside.

As a result, I measure nearly all spices in half-teaspoons. If the recipe calls for a tablespoon, that’s six half-teaspoons. If it’s any more than that, I might start pouring from the jar into a larger measure instead.

Photo walk/mini hike on Kärsön, a small island in lake Mälaren in northwestern Stockholm. I wanted something relatively nearby, and with at least a chance of liverwort: sunny slopes facing south, and a mixed forest, not pure pine on rock.

I so want spring to be here. March is not spring, I tell myself every year. It is, at best, not-winter. I didn’t let myself have very high hopes for the liverwort. But here they were! Some still in buds, barely open, but also fully blooming stands.

I had planned my walk for today because the forecast promised sunshine. There was some of that, but mostly the sky was overcast and the air quite chilly. Definitely hat and gloves weather. With nothing really growing yet, the big picture feeling was dreary.

Though some sections of the path were muddy, I got through everything with dry feet. Some balancing on fallen trees was required at times.

There was still ice in small, sheltered bays.

When the big picture is dull, I take out my macro lens and look for the small things. Liverwort. Dead, fallen trees; dead, standing trees. Not-green things growing on trees. This is always more fun in nature reserves where there is a mixture of species, and trees are allowed to fall where they fall, and remain there afterwards. Production forests tend to be less varied in what you can find.

Today was a getting things done day. Three loads of laundry, two hours of cleaning, baking hazelnut cakes, setting a bread dough, and sorting through half the drawers in one of the closets in my bedroom, finishing the embroidered name sign. None of which makes for good photos, apart from the name sign. (The hazelnut cakes taste great but look kind of bland.)

The plan is to get all the must-dos checked off the list today, and then I can go out for a photo walk tomorrow without any time pressure.