the paint-eating artist

Finger-painting, a splendid pastime! The blank canvas is staring back at you, begging you to explore the endless opportunities hidden only a fingertip away. Scarlett dives right in, red, blue, yellow, green, an alluring dream rises from the paper, like a chemical reaction, like land out of sea, like birth…

… and rock n’ roll. Black. Depth and death entwine, it is the color to end all color, end all – this finger-painting session included. Irresistable, delicious, mysterious black. According to the artist in the picture, taste art and you taste LIFE.

room for you know whom

This cosy little space-squeeze was formerly known – and very well known – as the LEGO-room – a holy haven of construction creativity for me, my brothers, and all our friends.

Since there’s a new family in town, I wanted to dress the room up a little, to better suit the very discerning tastes of Scarlett. I asked what she wanted, and this, I think, is what she said:

suitcase blues

When daddy has to go away on business, Scarlett makes sure she packs herself into my suitcase. And every time I wish I could just leave her there, close it up, take her with me. Luckily, I don’t have to travel abroad too often. I absolutely hate goodbyes and this is one girl you can not live without.

By the by, that’s a rather – if I may say so myself – sweet suitcase you’re looking at; the 1950s legend Rimowa Topas. Take it as a stand against consumer culture – I will probably never have to buy another carry-on again.
I ordered mine from Germany, and it came with a complimentary bottle of champagne…

foolin around with grandpa

Foolin’ around with grandpa… nearly 90 years of age difference right here, but Scarlett is not fussy about minor details as such, certainly not when there is loadsa fun and play to be had.

“Yo gramps, let’s stand our heads!”


It might already be spring blooming into summer, but back then it was a cold winter day, the 12th of January, snow up to your nose outside. Yeah, that was the day Scarlett decided that crawling was tedious. So she got up. And just walked. Just like that. Like she had done it all her life (all 13 months of it…)

I almost felt as though I wasn’t ready for this… my tiny baby, a big girl, already. Come on Scarlett. Give dad a break. Don’t run so fast. Wait. Wait for me.
You know, Scarlett, before you came into our life, I used to think it was impossible for a person to be absolutely everywhere at once. Little whirlwind, how I was wrong.

They grow up so quickly, they say. Too quickly? Read my lips or listen to me shout, fall over from the wall of echo. Y-E-S!!!

from the winter wonderland

I just noticed we have slipped into February, which meant my absolute minimum requirement of one post per month – itself the lowest of low targets – got slandered, slain and slaughtered. But what is a man to do, when there is so much of “do”, and so little of “dodo?” I strongly suspect insomnia to be paradise.

Let me open the gullwings of my Delorean, and go for a ride to mid-December. Ah, I seem to recall a brilliant visit from Germany’s finest journalist, Dr Gonzo. What a sensational sin we endured in Helsinki for a couple of nights, a heady mix of rum and kebab and unduly, unruly behaviour.

Then it started snowing. It still has not stopped. This is the very finest, coldest and whitest winter since 1987 – just when you thought that your childhood winters were a thing of your past and you had accommodated your body to the common and prevailing belief that everything is melting and who will save the polar bears and Karis will be a seaside resort. Not that I would resort to analysis on basis of one winter, but the Climategate certainly proved that there are so many lies floating around that it is impossible to uncover the uncorrupted truth.

As usual very few knows what to believe in, and those who do, fool themselves.

And then it was Christmas, aka the best day of the year. This time, family old and young, emigrated out to the ever-beautiful archipelago, to mother’s. It was, in a word, magnificent! Even the snow angels outside begged to be let in.

Instead of celebrating the birth of Jesus, we worshipped at the altar of crass materialism. Particularly Scarlett, who found a little red guitar in one of the packages, and immediately ripped off a few chords worthy of Keef Richards.

For New Year’s we packed ourselves into the Fiat 500, and drove off to Tallinn. Since this is a family blog (really?!), I can only say the the party was particularly exuberant in every imaginable way, and lasted for several days. The Estonian jet-set are the kings and queens of Good Time. Mostly queens. Why, even better.

And with that, a new decade busted forth like the cork from Dom. Speaking of the old monk, when Scarlett turns 16, there is a vintage ’98 pink Dom Pérignon waiting for her. It was a gift from one of our friends in Tallinn. Attached, the message: “Scarlett, the first champagne you taste should be the best.” Don’t you just love that?

Now what? Well, work’s great. I’ve just single-handedly snapped up one of Sealed Air’s biggest customers in Finland, which made Scandinavian director very happy indeed. He’s going to have to pay for this one, of course – I’m taking Madli to Haikko Kartano as a reward. A weekend of luxury spa, cold therapy, roasted dove, fine wine, should ensure that the batteries remain charged and charging.

I also just put the last touches to Scarlett’s new little room, pics later. It is quite the colorful little nest, will either drive her to nightmares or produce a great artists… hihi.

Finally, a sneak preview: February ought to end well. First, a little sales trip to Barcelona, might even catch a game at Camp Nou. The very next day I get back, we go off on a lovely vacation – Kauai, Hawaii, 2½ weeks. A friend of ours has a house there, so Madli and me and another Estonian girl will lap sun and beach and ocean.

And I will sing, “underneath the mango tree, my honey and me…

birthday number one

Forever tiny little Scarlett is not tiny little anymore. Just little – because she is about to turn one, yes, a whole year, on Sunday.
We’re celebrating in big style in Tallinn this weekend, but too-excited dad got too excited in advance, and got her the coolest birthday gift any little girl could ever want – a motorcycle! (Her mum thinks I treat her like a boy… pah! Nonsense!)

As you can clearly see, she was way over the moon about her little Suzuki. (Dad too, by the way…)

Then we made major bike-sounds together. The house was shaking!

And then she fell over, and learned her first lesson about bikes. They are dangerous. So we cry a little. And then she climbed back up. Lesson number two about bikes. They are irresistable.

Voom voom, little Suzuki, voom voom!