As Roadtrips Go

...this was one of the very best. Just look at my co-driver, chocolate shake in hand courtesy of moi.


As photos go, this trip features some of the worst I've taken. The kids were very pretty, though. And many.


Becks's house in the country is more estate than cabin. It has everything. Plus the view. (No, you can't tell from my photos. See note above about worst-ness.)


Which suited us and kids just fine. Poolside champers, anyone?


Marylove and I showed our gratitude by skinnydipping in the quarry. Becks may or may not have appreciated the splendour of our gesture. The kids barely raised an eyebrow.

A lovely time was had by all! Thank you, darling Rebecca!

Roadtrip With Mary

She said she would like to leave at 8.30 a.m. "So probably around nine, right?"
Right.
It's 10.30 now and apparently they're "on their way".
Right.
WAIT THEY'RE HERE!

Bye Midsomer (For Now)

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

Nekkid, I Tell You

Again With The Showing Off

I'm a Swedish person, condemned to a lifetime of snow and darkness and electricity bills going through the roof. Therefore I have the right to once a year brag about sun and temperatures rising over 15°C. So please indulge me. In this post I will continue to talk about the weather we're having. It's only going to last until Friday, and then we're back to normal Swedish summer and this blogg will be gloomy again and all will get back to normal. But for now, dear friends, indulge.

So here's how hot it is today.

• It's so hot that I've had coffee three times and tea twice, all in the name of staying-awakeness.
• It' so hot that the kids went straight from the beach (though "beach" is probably stretching it and also planting a way to glamourous picture in your minds) to the pool (though "pool" also is stretching it and again with the planting of the picture).
• It's so hot that I sanctioned a naked dinner (kids, not me) (NOT DAD), and if you know me at all, you know that this is big. (Not even underwear! Naked, I tell you! Nekkid!)
• It's so hot that we've had ice cream thrice and I'm pondering a quadruple. (Yeah, I know you can't say that, but I'm on holiday and so is grammar).
• It's so hot that I've turned the tv on just to keep them out of the pool ("pool"), where the sun still lingers and threatens to burn my young'ns to a crisp.
• It's so hot that I opened the freezer just now and stuck my head in it. That was really uncomfortable.
• It's so hot that my father's taken to practising the tuba (the horn? the tutilur?) in the cellar.
• It's so hot that friends and family stuck in town keep texting me with their hallucinations, involving cold drinks and nakedness and other unmentionables.
• It's so hot. I'm so happy.
  

There. Thank you for your patience. If this post made you irritated (and I can totally see why it would), feel free to read any posts labeled "winter". Then come back and say you're sorry and understand my need for obsessing over this day utterly and completely. Thank you.

Raspberry Sorbet

I'm no longer wearing the hula skirt. I'm wearing sorbet. Though I must say, Blanka does it way better than I.

Showing Off

This really is a terrible picture, but I just had to get it out of my system. See it's now eleven thirty at night and I took this photo fifteen minutes ago. Yep. We have no daylight for nineteen months and then we get this for about three nights every summer and go loco bananas. I'm wearing a hula skirt as we speak.

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.

Carpe Diem Is More Of A Sport Up North

Today it rained for about a hundred hours.
Then this happened for ten minutes.
Weather like this makes for a strange people. Proof of which will follow tomorrow, when we celebrate Midsummer.
That's Midsummer in Midsomer, for the hardcore WWLDonians.
Stay tuned.

Summer Starts Here

So this is it.
We're off.
The kids and I are on summer leave for a million billion weeks.
Yesterday, Day 1, was grey and cold and filled with nag nag nagging.
There was a little swimming as well (indoors, mind you) and some elder flower cordial making.
But mostly nagging, sighing, frowning and frowning and nagging again.
Today was a little better.
And the million-billion-eons-of-timeliness of it all makes it easier to let go.
That and old age.
Yep, I'm definitely getting smarter.
That and humbler.

These Are The Days

It's eleven fifteen at night and every window, every door, in the house is open.
Night has yet a long time to fall.
Jesper's outside, painting the fence.
The neighbours are finishing their dinner.
I'm in the study, fighting away a moth that is drawn to the computer, it being the only light on the house.
The elder flower, covered in lice, haunts me through the open window. The smell, sourly sweet and more June than any other.
Yes, it is night, but noone seems to know.
It's still light.
It's still 22°C.
The birds are still singing, the blackbird showing off from the tv antenna.
It's impossible to wrap this day up.
These are the days that we will talk about.
These are the days that will be Summer.
These are the days that will seem to good to be true.
These are the days.

Getting Ready

New shirt (finally flowers for a boy)? Check.
Pink jumpsuit (with lingonberries for my girl)? Check.
White knee socks? Check.
New sandals? Check.
Gifts to teachers? Hm.
Fake vans instead of smelly sneakers? Not yet.
Doting grandparents? Check.
Garden in bloom? Check.
Dandelions f-g everywhere driving me crazy? Check.
Proud mama? You bet.
Ditto daddy? Indeed.
About ready to be ready with school? YES.
Really bad photo? Oh yes.
Loving the fact that you're here, even when you don't say much? Amen.

One More Photo To Make You Go Aww

It was good to be back by the sea.
Since my parents sold the summer house I've been reluctant to go.
Holding on is easier than letting go, it's as simple as that.
But this was good.
And beautiful.
Now it's back to doing Monday, though it's already Tuesday.
Back to work and school and planning meals and folding laundry and shaving legs.
But don't pity me. I don't deserve it.
You see, it's countdown time.
School's out on Friday.
Midsummer in less than two weeks.
And it's 24°C in the shade.
Or 75°F, if you're feeling transatlantic.
Plus. I. Have. Freckles.

Have a good one, ya'll.

Glory Days

Glory days
Well, they'll pass you by
Glory days
In the wink of a young girl's eye
Glory days
Glory days

(Bruce Springsteen)

Ascension

We're on holiday. Well, technically we're still here, but we have five full days off, starting today with Ascension and ending with our national holiday on Monday.
The kids are in full-on summer mode, running from backyard to backyard, eating masses of ice cream, bruises on knees and grass stains on skirts and shorts. Never wanting to go to bed, laughing so loud I'm afraid the birds will leave our garden.
Asking me if this is summer.
We feel it too, in the gardening and the staying up late, in the night cup of tea outside and the sneaking a cigarette once the kids are in bed.
Lilacs are in full on bloom, peonies about ready to burst.
And the sun.
Impossibly, unbelievably there.
And friendly friends and birthday parties and friendly neighbours with big dogs and all things good.
And too much to eat and running shoes not in use and work put on hold for a while.
It could be summer. It feels like summer. I think it is.

Cliché, Anyone?

I'm Swedish. Turns out I like nature. Big time. Turns out I go into the woods and become one with the pines. Turns out I like to forage for mushrooms. Like, really like. Turns out I make my kids walk and walk and walk, while they whine and cry and whine, just to make it to the perfect place where the trees open onto the lake and there's a fireplace waiting to be used and the sun sets (well, not really, this is August, not November) on the water. I'm a walking, living cliché. Or just middleaged.

Dear Polarn O. Pyret

Even if you weren't my client I would love you for this. Keeping her dry when it's not humanly possible. LOOK AT THAT RAIN. It's like fake rain. Only it's very real. Gaaah.

This Blog Is On Vacation

There's night time swinging to attend to.


And endless meals in the garden to consume.


Friends for dinner and toes in need of some tlc.


Tiny freckles that need to be kissed.


And noses that need to be picked.

I will see you all when I'm inside again. Thanks for stopping by.
Love,
A.

I Miss Green

If I could eat these pictures I would.

On The Road

Will be back mid August. Much love to anyone stopping by.