If there is one things that can overwhelm me in a wave of nostalgia, it is the scent of bluebells. My gran had a lovely old home, with her own creek running through the property and an enormous shady garden dominated by gracious old Moreton Bay fig trees. Beneath the canopy it was always cool, even on the hottest February day and I loved exploring the lush green ferns and her very special "bluebell wood" - a small bushy area which in the spring was carpeted with bluebells in full flower.

In that carpet, which appeared like magic every year, I could occasionally find a white or pink bloom, but the majority of the flowers were a glorious sky blue and the entire patch smelled like heaven. Bluebells have a scent very similar to hyacinths, which as everyone knows, can perfume an entire home with a single bloom.

As a young girl I would walk down by the creek and wander among the trees and ferns, through the archways of white and lilac wisteria until I eventually ended up in the bluebell patch. I would take a deep breath of the heady scent and as it filled my nostrils, I would revel in the seemingly endless carpet of cheerful blue nodding heads. Invariably I couldn't resist picking an armful of the flowers and carrying them home to my mother, who would carefully place them in a vase so that their scent could waft through the house.

Today when I was outside with the dog, I noticed a small clump of bluebells under a tree in the back garden in full bloom, and I had to immediately stop and walk over to smell them.




In an instant, I was ten years old again, wandering through the bluebells at gran's house, picking armfuls for my mother. That single sniff transported me 26,000 kilometers and 39 years. It was a feeling that lasted all day.

Well, at least until I came home and saw what the busy little birds had been up to. That is Sheila you can see sitting on the chair looking quite casual and nonchalant. And what is that I can see behind her on the pull-out keyboard shelf of our desk? I really hope that's not the spiral-bound exercise book that Lars-Göran has been using to record information for our trip. It can't be, surely?




Dear God, it is! What an amazing job the little critters have done. I'm wondering if I could possibly hire them out to help the government shred any sensitive documents - there would be no hope of pasting all those pieces back together again. Hmmm... I wonder if he'll notice when he gets home?




Well, I think he might. I simply cannot believe that these two little devils have managed to do such a thorough job in so short a time. Maybe I can pass it off as collecting nesting materials? I think first I better get busy with the vacuum cleaner *grin*




Now I'm wondering what else they will get up to as we are leaving them overnight tomorrow as we head across to Lövhagen for the annual Valborgsmässoafton bonfire. I hope we have an apartment to return to! So see you back here on Monday night!