I have mascara all over my cheeks. I've blown my nose twice. My right sleeve is soaking wet (yes, soaking). It was so bad that I overheard Jesper in the kitchen mumbling "Baby, baby" which means he's either a) feeling really sorry for me or b) thinks I'm just a wee bit crazy. My God, I cried. Aymo, you would have been so proud of me.
Leo not so much.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I've cried since my last post. Which was all of ten minutes ago. After I ruined the last season of The Wire for some very nice people I've learned my lesson and will say nothing of the reason for my tears. But what is it with this show? I don't even like hospital shows. I hated this particular one in the beginning. But now. I need help.
Leo agrees whole-heartedly.
Leo agrees whole-heartedly.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
It's been a very good weekend back in Midsomer. Spring is so very spring-y there. And there are, as you may know from before, real live baah-ing lambs.
Hungry ones. Like baby Saga here, she's quite a handful.
But Wilhelm works her like a pro. Even when her mother tries to join in the fun. (Do you know how loud they are? It's crazy. They manage to make city dwellers feel pretty small.)
But my mother stays calm and steady as a rock. Surrounded by her flock, she talks to them soothingly and in a moment they're quiet again.
This is Ulla. She's a tough cookie. You just can't tell by looking at her. It's the lamb thing.
Saga just can't get enough, so she joyfully finishes up Ulla's bottle as well. Which Blanka thought was fun for about one minute...
...and then took a giant leap into her grandmother's arms. "Inte bita mig i lompan!" Better safe than sorry. And who can tell with creatures from the wild?
A great weekend, except for the part when Blanka threw up in the car on the highway two hours from Stockholm. Wilhelm immediately called his aunt: "I could see everything she had for dinner! It was pasta with salmon and candy."
What Would Leo Do in an emergency like that? Call for back up, most likely. Or Margaret. But now at least we know that distracting her with candy isn't such a great idea.
Monday, May 18, 2009
I enjoy marching bands. I like how you hear the music from a distance and turn a corner and there they are. And you just have to dance, whether you're two years old or just a little bit more.
I like to watch Wilhelm practice football in the rain. I like to be cold and wet and talk to the dads and grab my kids and run all the way home laughing at how soaked we are.
I like being alone. Not for any longer stretches, no. But I like the solitude of the livingroom when the kids are sleeping upstairs and Jesper's at the game and it's just me and the fireplace and the work I'm supposed to do, but don't. And won't.
I'm fond of my body. I'm not loving the wrinkles or the tired softness or my 17 centimeter scar. But I love the strength. The power. The miracle of having a body that works.
I like talking to strangers. People on the train and that sweet girl at the supermarket and business suits in the elevator and all of you right here.
I love being older.
Leo would love me too.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
I'm supposed to be translating 75 slides while simultaneously trying to get ready for the 45 minute talkathon I'm doing after lunch, but it's IMPOSSIBLE to do anything even remotely serious when I have this guy in my head. I'm playing keyboard on my computer. I'm sitting down-dancing. I'm singing. I'm getting things thrown at my head and will have to stop.
But just LISTEN do this. It's so good you'll be shaking that moneymaker in no time.
Leo thinks I'm a disgrace. Sitting-down dancing is just about the non-coolest thing in the world. Even in Leo's universe.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
This is what I'm reading right now.
Or this. Or rather a mix of them both, since the edition I have is neither of the ones featured above. Mine is actually a lot uglier. But it's a good book. Richard Russo has always been one of Jesper's guys. When our books met about ten years ago, there were new aquaintances to be made on both sides. I was happy to get closer to Paul Auster (Tom Wolfe not so much) and Jesper enjoyed being introduced to mr John Le Carré (Laura Ingalls Wilder not so much). Then there were all those perfectly interesting ones that you just didn't pick up. Jesper had lots of Men with him: Hemingway, Don DeLillo, Raymond Carver, Martin Amis... There was no end to the parade of Great Writers Who Happen To Be Men. And I got a little bored.
So mr Russo never stood a chance, until a couple of days ago when I really needed a good book and picked Empire Falls out among the hundreds of willing Men Who Write About Men. And it's a great read! I've laughed out loud on the subway a couple of times already. Or at least giggled. (There's a lot of flatulence in chapter one and I'm about as mature as my fiveyearold son when it comes to that.)
Empire Falls tells the story of Miles Roby, a fortysomething man too nice for his own good (he refers to himself as having a "natural propensity for shit-eating"). His wife Janine has recently left him for The Silver Fox, owner of the local gym, and discovered orgasms. His father walks around with food in his beard and the parish priest has lost it completely and screams "peckerhead" as soon as Miles enters the rectory. The light of his life, teenage daughter Tick, seems troubled beyond the usual puberty angst and his brother David keeps pushing Miles to get his life started. Highly entertaining, great dialogue, I warmly recommend it.
Leo would love this book. He gives in to anything New England. But how about you, what are you reading right now?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
This is why we bought the house. I look at the clothes line and feel domestic bliss tingling my loins. Deadline me all you want, cruel advertising world, I have laundry hanging from apple trees.
Leo is happy with the fact that I'd never dry my underwear like this.
Friday, May 8, 2009
If I get one of your "Pack leader" t-shirts and wear it constantly, do you think my kids will get who's top dog?
Or do I have to do the calm and assertive thing as well? Maybe I'll just stick to my old routine of tender love, lost temper and excellent meatballs.
Leo thinks dogs are a nuisance. Or does he? I will shower whoever gets this right with a Swedish gift bonanza. Good luck!
On the third day I rose from the dead and conquered the sofa. Imagine my disappointment when the first Oprah episode was on DOGS. And the second on the ECONOMIC CRISIS. I almost wanted the fever back.
Leo understands this. When three sick days a year are the only time you get to see daytime tv, you surely don't want it to be about Davos. Or puppies.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Lausanne did treat me very well. All that fresh air and snowy mountaintops made me feel positively Heidi-ish. And nothing cures the tired copywriter as a room with a view.
Leo thinks that's enough of blabbering about la belle Suisse. He suggests I focus on Qumar.
This is how my aunt travels. This is what she wears when flying to Switzerland for a wedding. This is how effortlessly she carries herself. I'm so in awe. I couldn't pull this off in a million years.
Leo can't believe I wear sneakers and call myself a lady, but he does appreciate the fact that I'll never be as tall as CJ. Even with stilettos.
All photos of the ceremony, dress and kiss are stuck in another camera, sorry. Will post in great detail as soon as I can. But here's an appetizer: The bride getting her hair done while trying very hard not to freak out. See the tiny, tiny arching of the brow? That's my cousin very kindly telling me to get out of her face. She's such a polite girl.
Leo finds the Swedish mother-Greek father-fluentinaboutfivelanguages-concept very appealing. Who can blame him.