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Some days when I sit down at the computer to write something I have no idea what will come out of my fingers. hahaha! Some days! As if. I meant every day! My fingers have a mind of their own when it comes to coming up with something to say, apparently. Mouth silent, brain rabbit-nibbled, but fingers? Clickety pressing and dancing and hopping up and down as if they were possessed.

I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this but apparently my fingers don't give a shit. On they go!

This week has been the wringiest yet at work and yet I soldier on. I even stay late just to try and get ahead of the game, just to try and knock some ducks off that row they're lined up in. However, just like in Veberöd, they keep on coming. Much like an energizer bunny...or my fingers.

My husband mentioned, in company, last weekend, something that I had written on my blog. I think I might have jumped, startled again by the knowledge that this is not my private headspace here, but a PUBLIC FORUM. Does your journal or blog or online diary or whatever the hell you think of it as surprise you like that sometimes? I mean, I know I am always writing for an audience, but most of the time I sort of subliminate that audience into ME. I'm writing for you, but you are ME, and I am you, and HI HONEY! I swear I did not get into the liquor cabinet while you were gone and drink all your whisky and then top it off with water so you wouldn't notice. Nasty stuff, whiskey.

Anyway, if you were looking for a point, it's over there >>>>>> *points*

*then cracks up*

I seem to be slightly manic at the moment (judging solely by the speed of my fingers and not at all by the extreme silliness of this post so far) and there isn't really any reason why. I miss my husband, because having him around is like having a warm light at the center of my universe. Even though he's not here at the moment, I know the lamp is still lit, it's just a bit blinkered. There's a word for that, when it refers to lanterns, but I can't think what it is. "Blinkered" is the only thing that comes to mind and I know that's not quite right. There seems to more of this sort of thing going on these days than I care for: forgetting words, not being able to come up with words when I need them, coming out with a Swedish word instead because it springs to mind and my brain and tongue have a Swenglish conspiracy going on between them, apparently. So I'm glad to have had it confirmed today that I will be getting to go to the States and work for 2 weeks again, just like I did last year.

Unfortunately, I can't take my family along this time, because Easter is being pesky and coming too early this year, but! Lizardmom will be packing her bags and tagging along with me again (at least that's the plan at the moment). My fingers are suddenly slowing down and remembering some of the things I wanted to write about, but this post is getting a bit unwieldy as it is, so they might have to wait.

Or not. Yesterday, when I picked up the kids (Anders already being on his way to Italy) and brought them home, I insisted that they go immediately for a walk with me because the sun was still up and it was light out when we parked the car in our driveway at 4:40 p.m. I sprang into the house to go to the bathroom and barked at them: STAY THERE! DON'T TAKE OFF YOUR STUFF! They rolled their eyes at me, but obeyed. Then we went for a nice walk—well, Karin rode her bike in circles around us most of the time—and the whole way they asked me questions like this: Mom, will I live to become an adult before farmor dies?* Mom, how do you know when you've met the right person to marry? Mom, what's the right age for having a baby?** etc. etc. etc. Frankly, I was relieved when I got "Mom, do you know anyone who's been sprayed by a skunk?"***

I answered to the best of my ability in every case,**** without (much) pulling any punches and am rather hopeful that they are tormenting their grandparents with this sort of thing for the rest of the week, because my god! I suppose you're never ready for birds and bees and death and skunks when you just want to come home from a hard day's work and go for a walk with your kids!


If you have the chance to go to any of these, I hope you will, because I can guarantee there will be magic in the air: Squam Art Workshops


Really Great Writing Out There Right Now: Construction Zone

More Really Great Writing Out There Right Now: Choices

*Well, hrmmmm, that depends on farmor...and on you.
**Never, kid, no sex for you!
***No. Geezus, you kids are making my brain hurt with all these advanced questions that I'm not ready to answer yet!
****True answers there, every one.
mood: silly
music: Stellar*—What Your Heart Don't Know

Someone HAS to say it...


Re: Someone HAS to say it...

Drrrr...fixed. *sigh*

Nothing is certain but death and skunks!

I was sprayed by a skunk last Valentine's Day!

What a day to have that happen!

The "womanic" thing made me laugh... and also the part about your "rabbit-nibbled" brain... and, of course, the "no sex for you!" rule. As for the part about your blog being a public forum even though you really write it for you, and the self-imposed shock of knowing your head's guts are out there in the world, I just took a deep breath and said "yep" to myself. Fortunately, there are so many good things resulting from that risk, like inspiring others and brightening people's days and--wonderfulest of all--forming friendships. ::Smile::

Rabbits eating my brain is a long-standing joke here at the obiter dictum. They're insatiable, those rabbits.

And you hit the nail on the head, you did. Those good things are SO GOOD :)

I quite like the idea of Swenglish and would like some words to use in my daily life please. I never come up with new words, I tend to simply make rude noises. With gestures.

One look at me in such a state and you'd realize we are DEFINITELY related to the apes.

Swenglish isn't just inserting Swedish words into English, but also using Swedish phrasing when you're speaking English, or vice versa. You find yourself "hiring movies" and "eating medicine", for instance. I'll have to see if I can think of good words for you to use in your daily life :)

Punkt slut is a good one. It looks nasty in English, but it just means "Period. End of story." It's pronounced poonkt slewt


So totally understand the Swenglish issues (here we call it Czechlish.) Do you ever feel that you are losing English phrases at a more rapid rate than your Swedish gain? This is what worries me the most about my language here. That plus I miss the certainity of knowing that the little turns of phrase that pop into my head while writing are 1. not British, 2. not just my own invention.

I love your answers. Better than "wow, look at that XXX over there!!" any day, which is our standard response when stumped thus far.

Julia @ kolo

I don't really feel like I'm gaining Swedish anymore. I seem to have reached a plateau, probably as a result of being so old when I started learning it to begin with. In fact, I've probably lost some of my Swedish as well, from what I started with when I was studying it, since I get by with the basics, and also because I work in English, and use it at home as well. :)

I've tried the "wow, look over there" response but it doesn't work anymore!

I know I am always writing for an audience, but most of the time I sort of subliminate that audience into ME. I'm writing for you, but you are ME, and I am you,

Yep. Surreal, ain't it? *g*

If you have the chance to go to any of these, I hope you will, because I can guarantee there will be magic in the air: Squam Art Workshops

There's always magic in the air at Squam Lake -- it's just one of those places. :-)

It certainly is! :)


Goodness, you got hit with some bigtime questions, didn't you? It was like a dang afterschool special or something.

As for Squam, oh dear. I had DREAMS about it the other night. I would just love to go, but this may not be the year for that. OH, but I wish it were!



I totally know what you mean about forgetting our blogs are public forums. It's one thing to sit behind the computer and imagine that people are reading. It's quite another when someone shows up at the local farmers' market and says they read your blog. Yikes!


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lizardek's obiter photos
lizardek's obiter photos

Feeling generous? Be my guest!

I can complain because rose bushes have thorns or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.

Abraham Lincoln

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