A List For Skipper

Dear Skipper, hope Christmas is treating you well. I just wanted to tell you that for dinner today i had a Riesen chocolate bar, a bag of popcorn and some coffee (went to the movies all alone, bliss). Then I came home to find Jesper in Martha (or Gordon Ramsay) mode, so I had some of his spaghetti. And some more chocolate. And since J started baking ten minutes ago, and I promised to keep him company, we're now staying awake with the help of tea and more chocolate. This night is sweet in o, so many ways!

Leo doesn't have a sweet tooth, I'm sure of it. But he'd like what's going on in our kitchen right now: baking, reading, eating and writing.

The Joys Of Motherhood

We went to see the dinosaurs today, brilliant as ever. We also ended up seeing this, which was maybe even more rewarding. Especially for our audience. "Mom! MOM! What is that orca DOING?! Is he EATING the other one?!" Eh, yes. As a matter of fact, that's exactly what he's doing.

Leo would have died. I laughed so hard I thought I would too. And then I heard myself say "Come, look at that elk in the next room, isn't he fascinating?".

Holy Macaroni

What happened here? Semlor in December? What's wrong with people? And see how many they've sold!

Leo wouldn't mind, though. The day before New Years Eve he has more important thing on his mind (world peace, public safety, party hats...).

Studio 60

It's so good I don't know what to do with myself. Aaron Sorkin is a genius.

I know for sure that Leo would agree.

List For Lena

Dear Lena, here's my Christmas reading so far. Melrose and Croc are new friends to the family, but we already love them dearly. The illustrations have a certain Mary quality that you'd like.


This is an old favourite that Emi G. once introduced me to (thank you). My own copy I lost a couple of years ago, but this new one will be as cherished (though it's not as pretty). You'd love this book, I know you would.


Mr Wilde as I've never seen him before, investigating a brutal murder in 1880's London. Very Wilde-ish and funny. Haven't finished it yet, but so far it's lovely. Christmas murder!


Tomorrow if I get an hour or so to myself, this is what I'll do. I'm feeling Golightlyish, being back in town after five days in Midsomer.


And right now I have to finish because we're watching this. And have thai food waiting. And the kids are asleep. Life is good.

I think Leo would be very happy to see Josh with a tan. And with such developed biceps.

Christmas In Midsomer

It's cold and pretty here. The sheep seem very content. And today the brown field covered in light snow looked exactly like stracciatella ice cream. It's not a bad place to be.


The river goes crazy on this side of the bridge. Notice that poor tree in the middle, holding on for dear life.


On the other side, all is quiet.


On Christmas Eve, Wilhelm and I took a walk. "Tell me a story about a troll who is very sad and cold", he said. So I did. And the we went home to prepare lunch. It has been a beautiful holiday.

I think Leo would have enjoyed it too.

Straight From Santa's Workshop

Busted! Here's proof that "elves" is just another word for child labour.

Leo would be appalled.

Meet Me At Grand Central Station

I'll be the one looking like a Polish prostitute. Or as my dear colleague Johan put it, "Short on cash for Christmas gifts, are you?". It started raining and I'm wearing fur. It's so very far from a pretty picture.

But Leo would love it. I think he'd enjoy the fact that you practically can hear Shaft in the background as I strut by. Strut, strut.

Let's Bloody Not

Office Christmas party coming to an end, and Fifi is making me propositions. But no worries, luv, I'm coming straight home.

I wonder waht Leo do? He'd probably be able to spell. But what he'd do, I don't know. I'm not exactly entirely sober. OH GOD here comes Björn.

WTF

I'm not a lion. I'm not even a cat. I'm a just a piece of a-s, at best.

Where is Leo when you need him? Where is Nancy McNally and the Marines? Where are the choppers and the code red?

Survival Of The Fittest

The House is closer than ever, but still out of reach. Just when I'd decided that this most probably is my House Of Dreams, it turns out that we're not the only players in this game. I knew that, of course. But I've been calm, cool and collected about it before. Not anymore.

Please God, please please let me be the lion.

Leo doesn't have concerns like this. He's not interested in suburbia. And if he was, he'd buy it all and shut up about it. Sometimes it feels like we're worlds apart.

Restaurant The Love

This greeted me last night after a long day in the coal mine. For those of you not fluent in Swedish, it says: Welcome to the restaurant The Love. Come to us for food! We have the best fish fingers in the world! Greetings from Chef Jesper, Maître d' Wilhelm, Waitress Blanka.

A very small, but somehow French looking, maître d' greeted me when I opened door. Wearing a blue shirt and a huge bow tie, he was friendly yet courteous, and exactly what one hopes for when entering a new restaurant. He escorted me to my table:


The waitress was on a break, so I had to read the menu for myself. It was short, but nourishing:

("Restaurant The Love" and two people kissing. Designed by Wilhelm, drawn by his father.)
Apple
Fishfingers
Rice
Sugar snaps
Lussebullar

It was the best dinner of my life. I went to bed feeling like a million dollars.

Leo would have loved our restaurant! I wish he could have joined me.

Nostalgia Galore

For those of you who Spotify: I give you my High School Highs. Go nuts. If you graduated around 1994 this could be a pleasant way to spend the afternoon. Oh, I have two extra invites up for grabs. Holler!

Leo and I do not have exactly the same taste in music. But this list is old school enough, it could work.

Here We Go

First we made Knäck. Sounds German, but tastes divine. "Ahh, it's almost like candy" Wilhelm said. "It IS candy.", I replied. He nearly fell over with joy.


Then we had to try a few more, to make sure I wasn't lying.


The Masterchef cleaning his tools. (And do enjoy the rare occasion of an actual glimpse of one of the kids.)


After the Knäck we moved on to Lussebullar. Willya look at the dough! Perfection. Eat your heart out, Martha Stewart.


And they turned out like this. So good it's ridiculous. Everybody very very happy.

I wonder if Leo does any baking? He could very well be into levains and such.

Smells Like Christmas

It does, it really does. And I have the pictures to prove it. But something's not working at Blogger so I'll have to get back to you.

Leo would be very sorry for the inconvenience. So am I.

Morning Has Broken

It's 8.12 and I'm the only one at the office. It's very quiet and very dark. I could fall asleep right now and noone would ever know.

I think Leo has probably slept more in his office than I have. His couch looks comfortable enough.

The Language Barrier

Today Wilhelm and I built a prison out of Lego and listened to his favourite mixtape (or the 2008 equivalent of). He sings "Get your rocks off" like noone else. I'm so very glad he's not fluent in anything but Swedish yet.

Leo would most certainly not sing anything by Primal Scream. Nor would he do a very good Bobby Gillespie act. Wilhelm, on the other hand, looks scaringly authentic.

The Snoop Rules

I watched Snoop Dogg's Fatherhood last night. (This is what I do when Jesper's out, watch "reality" shows 'til my eyes bleed. Yesterday I managed to catch three "What Not To Wear" in a row. Home alone bliss.)

Anyway, mr Snoop was teaching his sons about the real world and took them to see his cousin Joe Cool (I guess life is different when your cousin's aren't named Theodor and Hélène). Joe Cool had two things to say:

1. Don't touch the pipe. Never ever smoke crack.
2. Don't touch another man's d-k. Never ever.

And now I wonder how this wisdom transforms into Swedish media middle class? Crack's not really on the agenda, and homophobia even less. Any ideas? Let me know.

Leo would never smoke crack, I dare say. If I'm not mistaken, scotch was his pipe.

Hail To The Keith

Look at this. Keith Shore. The man's a genius. If I were a rich man, ladi dadi dadi dadi etc. I want this so much it's on the verge of being not appropriate.

What Would Leo Do? BUY IT. Leo's loaded. He works too much, he drinks too much, he hasn't kissed a girl in eighteen months, but he sure can buy his art.

Positively Dickensian

Today I used the words "mumbo jumbo" in a meeting. Without so much as an ironic lifting of the brow. I've turned inte Scrooge! Next thing you know, I'll be hollering "Bah! Humbug!" while entertaining clients. There goes my Christmas bonus.

Leo chooses his words with more care.

Seeing Double

Today I had a blog hallucination. My first. A quick glance at my last post made me think I had 5 comments. Five! I think my grand total so far is 3. On all posts together.

So, people, would it kill you to say hello? I'm hallucinating here!

What Would Leo Do, yearning for your tender affection? Well, he would never in a million years humiliate himself like this. The man has more dignity in his pinkie than I do in my entire body. But I'm so curious! Who are you, mystery readers?

Hail To The Chief

Tomorrow my dearest Anna starts her new job. She already has an Important one, being a nurse saving lifes and such. But tomorrow she starts her new career as the Head of Programs at Swedish MSF. She is going to do so much good, they won't know what hit them. Lucky bastards.

Did I mention she's also gorgeous? And has spent months in Congo, Tchad and that place I can never remember, being the closest thing to GI Jane/Florence Nightingale they ever saw?

Leo would salute her. So do I.

Oh, Dear

Sorry for being so quiet. This weekend I was caught up by the Ghost Of Christmas Past and I'm still in recovery. More soon.

What Would Leo Do? About Christmas, I mean. He's not Jewish, is he? No. Well, I'm almost certain he wouldn't fret. So that's what I'll try to do. Not fret.

Delivery

A man in blue rang the door and left us this. His parting words were "It needs water".

For those of you not fluent in Swedish, the tape says "Live Tropical Fish".

Here's what we found inside:


What Would Leo Do if someone sent a turtle to his office? (It would never reach his office, I know. But IF.) Freak out, probably. And have Margaret's head on a platter.

More Uptown

This place is a goldmine if you have a thing for tiny shoes.

Or mittens.


Or rubber boots (sizes 20-26).


Or fine jewellery.


Or say, grass on a roll.

Meanwhile Uptown

Today I've traded the office for some quality time with a T-Rex. All good in the hood.

It would do Leo a world of good to leave la oficina once in a while.

Thanksgiving Part 2

Have I told you lately that I love you? Dear Mataffären. Such a valued friend in a cold and lonely world. You saved my a-s today, as you have before. And for this I Thank you. I really, truly, madly, deeply love you.

Turns out the feeling's mutual, since you sent me one of these along with the celery and lamb:


What Would Leo Do with it? Is it even possible to imagine him going down the slopes on his butt, screaming his head off with joy? Yes, I think it is. I think he'd go bananas for the second time today. I know I will.

Realtor Slash Psychic

My Lundberg at Fastighetsbyran e-mailed me. Apparently she thinks that I will be single very soon, because she recommended I buy the apartment featured above. It's a little small for four people, I think. Hope she doesn't know something I don't.

If someone at Fastighetsbyran had Leo's private e-mail I'm pretty sure he'd go bananas. I'm trying to take the higher road here.

A Little Thanksgiving

Today on the Thankiest day of them all I would like to express my gratitude for not being one of the birds on our balcony.


I would also like to give thanks for the fact that I have a home full of super heroes. Littlest Spider Girl, mr Easter Dinosaur and the Monkey King, I love you very much.

Leo would like to give thanks for getting all this attention, being a dead fictional character in a finished series and all.

It's Here!

It happens every year around this time. If you're lucky you escape with nothing but a few scratches, if not... Well, it's not pretty, let's leave it at that.

It used to be called the Flu, or more precisely Stomach Flu. Then one of two things happened: Either some tabloid genius decided that we could do with more drama in November. "Maybe if we call this nasty flu something a little more disturbing?"

Or the virus itself mutated into something so vile, that medical expertise found it necessary to give it a more graphic name. Either way, The Winter-Puke-Disease was born.

And boy, do we fear it. The Winter-Puke-Disease. We talk about it endlessly, obsess over it madly. And keep fingers crossed, cross our hearts, sleep with garlic, wash our hands with gasoline. But nothing can help you if it crosses your path.

And my dad has it. My dad, the world's best dad, who spent all day watching the kids. Who fixed them dinner and then locked himself in our bathroom for two hours. And now looks like the living dead. The hero, my dad.

You may not hear from me or Leo for a while.

When In Need, Turn To Spotify

All afternoons in the heart of the family are not perfect. This is normal. And all afternoons in the heart of the family, I am not perfect. This is also normal. So what to do when all hell breaks loose an hour before dinner (B trying to peel potatoes, W trying to peel her)?

I turn to Spotify.

And W and I take turns, choosing songs. His first choice, always, Johnossi's Party with my pain. His second, Jingle Bells. And B stops playing hatchet and starts to dance. And I stop frowning and start to peel the potatoes (being over 21 months old, I'm doing a better and less dangerous job than my predecessor). And all is well in the world again.

Leo would have done exactly the same.

Cupcakes, Murder And Austen

My dream Christmas always seem to be a mix of grisly murders, cooking and BBC classics. In this, however, I am not alone. We are many that feel the importance of a serious murder investigation and some cupcakes for the holidays. So far, my Amazon wishlist consists of

3 murders
2 Jane Austen
3 edibles (cupcakes and Ruth Reichl)
1 dream of living in the English countryside

This could just as well have been my wishes for last Christmas, it could have been five years ago. It could, in fact, be my mother's wishlist. God.

I wonder what Leo wants for Christmas? Being a realist (him, not me), I don't think World Peace comes high on the list. Maybe just a quiet dinner with Potus and the missus. A nice tie? Nah. Maybe a good eggnog.

What A Girl Wants

B has strep for the gazillionth time this year. This is what she had for lunch yesterday. Yum.

Leo would never mix his drinks with icecream.

Mary Mary Why Ya Buggin

This is Mary's blog, sorry.

http://marialindroos.blogspot.com

Leo would not have made a mistake like this. But then something tells me that Leo finds the whole idea of a BLOG rather ridiculous. Not to say insane.

Healthy Hair

It's me! I'm on the internet! For realz! I don't look half this good in real life, but still. What a lovely way to be misinterpreted. And I'm seriously thinking of wearing that skirt again. For like every day of the week.

Mary, Mary, I love you.

Leo would not be happy about finding himself portrayed like this, but then Leo is more or less the most powerful man in the world and gets his kicks other ways. Me, I've always been a sucker for attention.