35 Weeks And Three Days Not That I'm Counting

The children have the week off. It's Fall Break (Autumn Leave?) and they've been spending a couple of days down in Midsomer with my parents. Feeding the sheep, building robots, making pizza, playing with axes, that sort of thing. I'm so grateful to have parents who are brilliant grandparents. Yay Mom! Yay Dad! You are welt klasse, top notch, la crème de la crème.

Up here things are moving slowly, but moving. We have a new car (new to us, that is, not New) and I'm trying my best learning how to park it without causing too much damage. W's birthday's coming up so there are two celebrations planned for this weekend. Saturday night his friends are coming over for burgers and ice cream (per request) and Sunday it's the family gathering. Looking forward to both and getting ready by staying in bed. I've learned my lesson from last week.

The baby is moving around like a crazy squirrel, but seem to have decided to stay on it's head from now on. I still find apple juice, ginger ale and oranges to be the Best Thing Ever, and have this positively medieval urge to bake things. Still haven't acted on this (very strong) impulse, but I find myself daydreaming about it. God, I'm such a cave woman at the moment. I've gained at least 20 kg, that's what, 40 lbs? No, 44 lbs. So yes, that is the reason I'm only giving you belly shots at the moment. My face, as my darling girl put it the other day, looks funny. Then she fondly stroke my bottom and with a happy smile exclaimed "Oh, this is also SO much bigger!"

Friday Night Lights

My father picked us up at the train station.
He drove us home to Midsomer in snow and mist and teased me about being amazed by the beauty.
He's a city boy himself, but his four (six?) years as a permanent resident in the village gives him the right (he feels) to laugh at my constant oh's and ah's. I'm ok with that. I'm still better than him at finding mushrooms.
Though mom is by far the best forager, but that's stating the obvious.
Forager, you lovely word you.
It was a good weekend.
Sun and snow and sheep and food and sleep.
And now it's good to be back home.
Fire burning, tea and love by my side.
I hope you've had a good one too.
Especially you, miss ElizaHennessey.

Bye Midsomer (For Now)

Dear Mom and Dad,
Thanks for a lovely ten days.
It was good.
So very good.
Just like you.

Midsummer In Midsomer

We danced around the maypole. We ate lax and strawberry cake. We wore flowers in our hair. We ruined our shoes in the rain. We were a little cold. We met and greeted summer friends and family. And when we had danced and eaten hotdogs and bought candy of the kind they call homemade, we went home to meatballs and sill on knäckebröd. Night fell very late on the longest day of the year. And we fell asleep with grassy feet and dresses still on.

Ludacris

First run today.
Met two deer and scared them away with my panting and non-elfish moves.
And the BABY I CAN SEE YOUR HALO bellowing.
Laughed out loud with the sheer ludicrousness of it all.
The same feeling I have when I'm in the car.
Just look at this person with the driver's license, maneuvering her vehicle.
Look at this person with the legs moving forward and the rest of her body trying to follow.
Look at her.
Look at me.
Look at me go.

Charmed, I'm Sure

No Easter without a few påskkärringar! Here's Blanka with sweet summer friends Albin and Malva (little brother to the left, big sister to the right). Wilhelm felt too old to participate at first, then realised that nothing is worse than having a baby sister with candy when you have none yourself, so he did dress up and let me draw a moustache and everything (which was swiped off at the last minute). But there was no posing for pictures (gotta draw the line somewhere when you're all of seven years old). Albin and Malva are the children of my summer friend Anna (no, our parent's generation didn't have a whole lot of imagination when it came to naming their children), whose grandmother is from the same village as my grandmother (the aforementioned Midsomer, which really isn't called Midsomer at all, but that's another story). Seeing our kids do together what we did ourselves thirty (ahem) years ago made us a little nostalgic. But you know, in a good way. Not in an I'm-so-old-I-don't-know-what-to-do-with-myself-kind-of-way. Since I'm over and done with that. Yep.

Midsomer Blue

When the sky is blue in November, it's very very blue. My mother and Blanka were looking for fir cones and evergreen to turn into wreaths for All Saints Day (when we decorate the graves of loved ones) and I had my head in the clouds. It was a good day.

This Just In!

It's springtime in Midsomer! Remember last year?

Cross Country Narnia Style

Look! More photos of snow! Snow and silence and Arctic weather. All that's missing is a couple of polar bears and the image of Sweden would be complete. Back in the city today. Lots of snow still, but no silence. My brain is very slowly coming back to me.

Hello New Year

You're very cold and beautiful so far. Hope we'll get closer as the days pass.

We're still off from work and school and manage very well to let the days go by without doing anything. It's a sleepy time. If I could wear my pyjamas all day long I would. Tomorrow I'm taking the kids down to Midsomer for a couple of days. I have high hopes for more sleep and tea and some Christmas reading there.

I will be funny again when I'm back to my senses. Blame the overeating and relaxation of the holidays. My brain is mush.

Midsomer Goes Emmerdale

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.

Up Close And Personal

Wilhelm calls me from Midsomer, where he and his sister are spending quality time with the grandparents (and saving us from nervous breakdowns during the moving project). It's lambing time. He's a city kid:

– It's really disgusting on Gudrun in the back.
– Sorry, on who? In what?
– Gudrun, she is a sheep, and it's really disgusting. It's coming out of her. In the back.
– Ah.
– It's sort of like blood. And the bag.
– The bag?
– The bag the lambs come in.
– Ah.
– I'm telling you, it was like uuuuaaaaghhhh. So gross!
– Ah.
– It's SO nice here, mom!

Now, there's a reason this post carries no photo. Leo would be queasy. So would some of you.

It's Official!

Spring is here. See proof above. My mother just sent me the picture, almost as proud as she was the day I was born. I would be too.

Leo likes lamb well enough. He's not big on lambs, though. But I sure am.

Tea For Joy (For Lynne)

I don't know if I'll ever use these. I'm a big girl when it comes to tea, and these little dainties don't seem to hold more than a mouthful. But they sure are easy on the eye!


And with buying a house comes the need for things I never dreamed about before. Such as tiny teacups. My mother saved these for me from the Christmas market in Midsomer. Thanks darling Mom.

Of course Leo thinks I've lost my senses.

Killing Me Softly

This isn't new. But I can pretty much guarantee that you'll never find anything "new" here. If you're looking for the latest, look elsewhere. But then again, if you're looking for something great, stay tuned.

His name is Kaah. The song is about a relationship falling to pieces and is called "Before you go". When we drive to my parents house in the countryside we drive through places just like these. So sad, so sad and so pretty.

Leo loves this song. In fact he's crying his eyes out right now and has asked Margaret to hold his calls.

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.