I'm secretly hoping that Swedish TV will start
I finished the most excellent book yesterday, Haven Kimmel's first novel, The Solace of Leaving Early. I marked several pages with tiny dog-ears where there were passages I have to copy into my notebooks for remembering, but since I'm writing this from work I can't share them with you. Ms. Kimmel published her autobiography first, A Girl Named Zippy and I can recommend that one highly as well. I can't wait to get my hands on her next book.
In other news, the cherry tree is planted. It's taller than me, but I can't see it from our bed, more's the pity. I really, really hope that it has cherries next year because that will give me an excuse to steal my Michigan Cherries Recipe book back from Angie, cuz I'm an indian-giver that way. And in a not-so-subtle attempt to completely cement our Swedishness (because we already have 2 children and a Volvo), we're heading to IKEA tonight to buy a new kitchen table and chairs because you can NEVER HAVE TOO MUCH STUFF FROM IKEA. Okay, I lied. You can. I used to be winning the furniture wars. It was my dark-wood, heavy-footed, curvy, thick-n-nubby upholstered furniture against Anders' Scandinavian-design blond wood, straight-line, cotton-striped stuff. Not anymore, alas. My stuff is barely holding
Walking with my brother around Flyinge the last couple of evenings has made me see it with unfamiliar eyes. Even though I think I have decently powerful powers of observation, it's still nice to push aside the contempt of familiarity and see things anew again. It reminds me that I really want to take my camera with me on my walks.
Cracking Me Up: (hello, Olympics, were your ears burning?) Woo Your Woman
Happy Happy Birthday Wishes to
*Oh for god's sake, how many times can one possibly remove and reinsert a damned apostrophe?!