Maiju’s Teacup 17.1.2018 – Snowglobe


The prompt for today was that if I had to build a diorama to represent my interior world, what would people see when peering in.

    So the first thing I did was to google the word ‘diorama’ to make sure I had the concept right. According to Wikipedia, (which I will trust on this):

The word diorama /ˌdaɪəˈrɑːmə/ can either refer to a 19th-century mobile theatre device, or, in modern usage, a three-dimensional full-size or miniature model, sometimes enclosed in a glass showcase for a museum.

This made me think about a snowglobe, because that’s what I’d make if I built my inner world as a diorama. It would have to be a huge snowglobe because I would need there to be and ocean of tea. On the other hand, that could be represented by just a dop, or a cup. Nah, I want an ocean of tea.

The houses would be wooden in the centre but turn into ones built of books the closer to the edge you got. Miniature me would be sitting on a wooden terrace at the edge of the tea ocean, next to a sauna. She’d have her diary at hand, pen at the ready. There would be vast forests spreading from the shores of the sea and small cosy cabins here and there with bookshelves lining the walls. There would be a path that led through the forest to a small town with only a teahouse, a library, and a yarn shop. Because what else would you need? And the town would be inhabited by hedgehogs and cats. Hey, it’s my diorama world!

An when you shook the snowglobe, thousands of tiny words would spread and flutter across the snowglobe skies and when they landed on the ground and on the trees and buildings and on the tea ocean waves, you could read what kind of strange and random poetry they’d make. And of course the snowglobe would also be a music box and you could wind it and it would play The Rolling Wave, the traditional Irish Jig that should never end.


Maiju’s Teacup 1.1.2018 – 365 Thoughts on Writing


This is my first cup of tea of the year, Darjeeling First Flush, and my new journal.

I’ve been a bit lazy with this blog lately, mainly because of being so busy at work and tired after work and trying to write or make Yule presents whenever I have time. Well, now I have time. I just have three shifts left at work and then I have no idea yet what I’m up to. The job was a temporary contract and no one’s talked about continuing it even though I made it clear I would be interested in that. I was a Christmas rush help and it seems like they aren’t going to need me, at least immediately.

My friend Amber just gave me the brilliant idea of using one of my Yule presents for not only to spice up my blog but to write and share more about my experience as a writer. My brother or his fiancee found me this wonderful Q&A a day for writers -jounal. It’s a year’s worth of questions about writing. I’m only on the first page and don’t want to peek ahead, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be good.

I’m answering these questions every day and will try to share the question and my answer on the blog daily. Maybe on some days I won’t manage it, or will only take a photo of my answer but I’m going to try. (Famous last words.)

The question for the first day was: Why do you write? What does it do to you?

Writing is how I make sense of the world. The times I’ve been too lazy or depressed or tired to keep a diary are hazy to me now. I don’t know how I survived. Even when I’m trying to exorcise some bad thoughts or give myself props for doing something good, only writing will eventually do it for me. I’ve had some longstanding regrets and issues and while writing doesn’t solve them, writing them down turns a part of them solid and it’s stuck on the page and not in my mind anymore.

Writing fiction works in almost the same way. I recognise every quirk of my characters’ as some aspect of myself. Even the weather and the locations are significant for me. And when I learn something new about myself, I also learn something new about one of the stories I’m working on.

Writing is the only thing I feel like I know how to do. And I don’t mean that I think I’m brilliant at it, but it’s the thing I strive for and the thing that I defines me in my own mind. It’s a goal and a pursuit that I value.

Maiju’s Teacup 1/12/2017 – For the Love of George…

20171128_103746… Eliot.

I am in love with George Eliot. I don’t know if I mentioned this already.

I don’t know why it took me so long to read her work, but I suppose it’s just been one of those things I haven’t got round to. Until last March when the cat was sick and I read Middlemarch.

Admittedly I read it because there was a web series based on it starting (still going) and I wanted to read it before seeing the LIW. But it helped keep my mind off things and whiled away the hours between forcefeeding the cat.

I loved every word of that book and I’m glad I didn’t read it earlier, because I would have missed a lot of the political and societal stuff that it had if I’d read it for example 10 years ago.

Middlemarch was the only Eliot my library had in English so I had to wait until I could afford one of my own.

Every December (for the past 2 years at least) I’ve read a book as a sort of Yule calendar. I choose a book (a classic I haven’t yet got round to) and divide the pages by 24. In Finland we celebrate on Christmas Eve and lie about and relax for a few days after that. So I’m going to read 28 pages of Danied Deronda so I can finish the book as my first Yule present.

I’m following a podcast called Bonnets at Dawn which is about 19th Century literature by female authors (originally Austen vs. Brontë but they have branched out a bit… or a bit more). The people making and listening the podcast are among the nicest bunch of people. I’ve made many new friends and a frequent question on the podcast is to choose between Austen or Brontë. I’d have gone the Austen way before March, but now I’m an Evans girl through and through.

And I’ve only read one of her books!!! But it makes it even more special. I remember when I read Austen for the first time. I rushed through all the six main novels in a week or two. I never really warmed up to the Brontës, but apparently I’d been reading books by the wrong sister. But now I have George Eliot, and I have all the time in the world to read her books and enjoy every carefully chosen word, every jab at the patriarchy and prejudices against women, every layered meaning on those pages.

I feel like I’m cultivating a new and deep relationship that is just going to get better and deeper as I read more of her books and more about her life.

I’m going to have a Yule romance with George Eliot.

(If you want to follow my exploits into Daniel Deronda, I use the hashtag #MaYuleRead on Twitter and Instagram. If you want to take up the habit of a Yule Read, I’d love to hear about it!)

And in the cup above I have there Wild Pu’er, that just keeps getting more delicious the more I steep it and the older it gets.

Maiju’s Teacup 20/11/2017 – Monday

I’m feeling a bit frazzled today. 

I usually start my day with a bottle of water while still sitting in bed, but today I forgot. Then I wandered around the kitchen, confused as to what to do next in order to make tea. Every small thing seemed to require extra brain power. Or rather, every routine required some thought.

I’m not sure if it’s NaNoWriMo’ing and working, or my period on top of that, or just a general Monday(though it feels like Wed/Thu bc I worked the weekend an will be off in Wednesday). 

But now I can’t even remember what I was going to write in this post… 

I guess I just wanted to exorcise this feeling. Writing about it (whatever it is) usually cures all ails. I guess we’ll see if that works with this.


Oh yeah! The photo reminded me of the small twinge of disappointment I felt when I realised there wasn’t a last sip of tea left in my cup. I was probably going to post something very deep and lame about it. Maybe a poem.

Let’s try it…


Last sip of morning tea has disappeared from my mind

Like I forgot 

how to make tea 

in which order to act to feed the cat

where I keep my journal (in the middle of the table, in plain sight)

what I thought this poem was about


Yeah. It needs some work. Or rather, a matchstick… I may need to write it again on paper in order to burn it.

See. This is a perfect example of this morning. I’ve now wasted 15 mins writing a blog post even I don’t want to read again…

Maiju’s Teapot 14/7/2017 Things I Learned Today…

Things I learned today
Are all such one can read from the bottom of a teacup.

That leaving chocolate chip biscuits on the stove will turn them heavenly.

That apples fall if you drop them but you should rather eat them.

That there is a well at the bottom of the teacup and that is where stories come from.

And that well is bottomless.

And you should never question tealeaves.

And you should always catch and eat apples.

And you should always, always leave chocolate chip biscuits on the stove.

Maiju’s Teacup 3/7/2017

Still drinking the Clipper’s Assam in the afternoon. I miss my cupboard of tea at home, especially the oolong.

This photo is from last night. After this I went to sauna with my cousin and then we grilled food on an open fire and after that we played 1990 Trivial Pursuit until 3:30 am. I drank some Koskenkorva which is the Finnish vodka. Now I’m awake at  9 am wondering if I should try to write or just sleep l. The rate at which this blog post is proceeding,  sleeping will be the better option.