For the non-Swedish speakers, that means "Oh, what wonderful weather outside today!" And it really is a glorious day with cobalt blue skies and bright sunshine. There are even signs of life stirring in the sälg trees.



Today is the first day of summer time. I was actually quite impressed that I remembered to turn the clock forward before I went to bed last night and I'm sort of looking forward to the sunshine ahead.

The days are getting longer and it has been light before 5am. A forewarning of what is to come. The midnight sun is one of those things that sounds much, much better than it is. I suppose it's a cool enough phenomenon to experience as a tourist, but living with it is a whole other thing.

The first year summer I lived here, I was amazed that it really stayed light around the clock. Seriously light. Almost broad-daylight light, twenty-four hours a day. The novelty soon wore off after MANY sleepless nights and after two-and-a-half months went by with hardly an hour of darkness, I was completely ready for the arrival of autumn.

A lot of people warned me about the darkness in the winter time. But after living through four winters here, I have to say that the light in the summer bothers me a lot more than the darkness in the winter.

I think it's one of those things that a person has to grow up with to truly appreciate. None of the Swedes I know here has any complaints about it. Lars-Göran says that all the light in the summer is the payoff for the long, dark winter. I suppose I can see his point, but you can have too much of a good thing.

Anyway, today it's still manageable and the wildlife is out in force soaking up the sun.

There are birds everywhere. Lambi and I took a stroll down to Svandammen park and watched the emerging spring. Ducks (anka) were marching around among the newly emerging flowers and grass, boldly approaching humans for a handout. (Yes I had bread with me!). There were blackbirds (koltrast) digging with their bright yellow beaks under the rose bushes. A fat pigeon (duva) was holding his chest up to the sunshine. Sparrows (sparv) were busily hopping around and quarrelling. Crows (kråka) were making a fuss in the small trees on the perimeter. And a squirrel (ekorre), who must have just woken up from hibernating was carefully watching us and forraging around in the leaf litter.

Then it was off to the marshy area near the harbour to see the moorhens (sothona). I have a great soft spot for these lovely birds. Moorhens are strict looking, tailored, black-and-white birds among the fanciful ducks, the white swans with their orange sealing-wax bills. They have a look of modest purpose, of duty, of restraint.

And then....

One comes up out of the water to join the other birds crowding around for thrown bread, and the exposed feet are a shock, being large, white-green, scaly, reptilian, as if they belonged to half-bird, half-lizard ancestors, and have descended unaltered down the chains of evolution while the birds modified above water into the handy, tidy moorhen shape.

I stood there a while feeding the birds. There were gulls (mås) there and they swooped in and past having caught bits of bread in their mouth as if they were leaping fish. The gulls will get everything if you are not taking care of the others. A tall goose will stand delicately taking pieces from your fingers like a well-mannered person, then turn to slash savagely another competing goose with it's beak: after the gulls, the geese provide for themselves best.

The ducks, apparently clumsy and waddling are quick to snatch the bits that the geese miss. But I also try to feed the moorhens. I feel a bit sorry for them. First they have to get up the bank on those clumsy water feet. And then their movements are slower than the other birds'; the moorhens are poking about after the bits when the others have swallowed them and are already crowding in for more. Yet in the water, there is nothing quicker or neater.

I saw this morning that the BBC has finalised this year's voting for their Top Ten British Sitcoms. I like British television, so was interested in the outcome. The final results were:

01. Only Fools and Horses
02. Blackadder
03. Vicar of Dibley
04. Dad's Army
05. Fawlty Towers
06. Yes Minister
07. Porridge
08. Open All Hours
09. The Good Life
10. One Foot in the Grave

I pretty much expected "Only Fools and Horses" to win, it's immensely popular. I don't like it that much myself though. I'm a bit disappointed that "Fawlty Towers" ended only fifth.

"Black Adder" is still my personal favourite though.

Nurse Mary: Tell me, Edmund, do you have someone special in your life?
Blackadder: Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I do.
Nurse Mary: Who?
Blackadder: Me.
Nurse Mary: No, I mean someone you love and cherish and want to keep safe from all the horror and hurt.
Blackadder: Mmmm, still me, really.

And that goes for me too... ;-))

Today it is Jungfru Marie Bebådelsedag (literally Virgin Mary Messenger Day or better known to us as The Annunciation). For those heathens or lapsed Catholics amongst us, it is the day the archangel Gabriel came to announce to Mary that she was to be the mother of God. See what 13 years of Catholic education will do to a person!

To celebrate this everyone in Sweden eats waffles. This is totally logical, of course :) I wonder why we never thought of it in Australia?

Another name for the day is Vårfrudagen, which means Our Lady's Day. If you say that for a while it will eventually get to sound like våffeldagen, which means waffle day. Hence the waffles. See, Swedish logic at it's gastonomic best. And who am I to argue with tradition?

Swedish Waffles

Recipe for 6-8 waffles
1 1/2 cups plain flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 cups of milk
1/4 cup of cooled melted butter

Mix half of the milk with the flour and the baking powder to form an even mixture. Stir in the rest of the milk and the butter.

Warm a waffler and melt a little butter in it. Add about 1 soup ladle of the mixture per waffle. Serve with whipped cream and jam.

I am not sure that Swedish waffles are the same as American ones, and according to Google, Belgian waffles are different (much thicker), so a picture might be in order. Swedish waffles are eaten with whipped cream and jam as dessert or dinner. You can also serve them as a first course, but then you put e.g. sour cream, chopped red onions, and caviar on top.

It is also the Crane day, because the cranes are usually coming back to Sweden at this time. I haven't seen any around here yet, but then they may be smart enough to stay in southern Sweden for a little longer. This morning I awoke and looked out of the window to see it steadily snowing - not a comforting sight in the third week of March!

It's snowing again after a few days of semi-spring weather. I knew it was too early for spring, even if it was the official start on Saturday. Spring plays a crazy hide-and-seek game here in Sweden until it suddenly bursts out full force in late May. Not withstanding the white carpet outside, there are hard-working buds and green leaves pushing their sturdy little selves on up out of the ground.

I'm never really at my best in the cold, especially the cold days you get here in the spring when a piercing March wind sweeps down straight from the North Pole, finding its way inside clothing, nipping at my nose and ears. And the fog doesn't help. It snowed overnight, then a real "pea-souper" rolled in making visibility zero and creating a rather cheerless scene. When I went out with Lambi it was quite eerie - the air was cold and damp, I couldn't see even a few inches in front of me and a curlew crying broke the enveloping silence and nearly made me jump out of my skin.

I just don't know how the local bird life can stand it!



I've been rather sick over the last week with some kind of flu bug. So I've been on a book a day diet. But now I'm slogging my way through the same book, five pages at a time, with no promise of coming to the end anytime soon. It's just The Last Camel Died at Noon, but it's starting to feel like Proust. Written in a Victorian style, it features a fairly strong female protagonist narrator, with an equally strong husband and a far too precocious child. Within these pages are more euphemisms for sex than I thought I'd ever know. But I honestly think it's the precocious child character that I find most offputting, as I probably visibly cringe when he comes on the scene; children who know more than adults in any given situation is the bane of good fiction, I think.

I'd have given up on it by now, except that it's about Egyptian archaeology, which has always been very interesting to me, but I'm having a hard time finding the will to continue with it.

Anyway. We did manage to move the boat around to her new berth on the one fine day we had last week. She looks rather lonely out there, doesn't she?



It look idyllic - blue skies and water, calm, peaceful. But don't be fooled. It's still freezing cold and the following day that scene had turned into this:



And it's much the same today, just add a liberal sprinkling of snow. :(

On Sunday night I watched an excellent program on SVT2 about Mikael Andersson.

What an inspirational story of courage and determination. Mikael was born without arms or legs and has struggled all of his life to do simple things that we take for granted. But rather than be bitter about the circumstances, he exudes positive vibes, love for himself and those around him and a zest for living that took my breath away. The show was not sentimental and nor was he - he is far too busy enjoying and experiencing all that the world has to offer to feel sorry for himself. What a sobering lesson.

The documentary was called Armlös, benlös, makalös. Scroll down the link to the box that says "Se klipp med Mikael" and click on the links to see short videos of how he gets on in daily life. "Det ringer" really blew me away.

Laugh of the Day: What About Bones. Some of the pictures were hilarious!

And as I know you love these quizzes, try this one:


You are a frying pan. You have a lot going on in
your life, but you just let it all settle. You
take your time in life and concern yourself
with ONLY what really matters. You are fun-
loving and considerate. You make friends easily
and deal with hardships well. You love to be
occupied and enjoy a good laugh.


What Kitchen Utensil Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

That means "Her name is Greta". Who? What am I rabbiting on about now? Well, the newest addition to our family - Greta. Isn't she cute?

Yes, after constant battles with the desktop, including changing O/S, the problems with crashes and freezes have continued so we decided get another laptop and get rid of the bulky, noisy and temperamental desk top. Only room for one bulky, noisy, temperamental creature in this house! So Greta arrived earlier this week and we have spent some days transfering stuff between the three computers. And yes, this time we were smart enough to remember and use the import/export method Kate told me about, so this time I didn't lose anything.

It's been somewhat of a sad week as I learned again of a couple of expats here heading for home after relationship failures. It's always a scary thought as it forces you to consider your own situation if you faced a similar crisis. And there are also those selfish reasons, too. Even though we don't see each other all that often, it is always so nice when we get together for a few hours and I have so few friends here that it always hurts when one of them moves away. I guess it's the expats curse.

I've purchased tulips and daffodils this week and it gives a lovely spring feel to the apartment. With the sun streaming in the windows they open in a day or two and last really well. I don't usually treat myself to flowers, but I do love to have them in the house when I can. Spring flowers in particular always make me happy. I wonder if you can get California Poppies here?



Meanwhile, I have seen the first harbinger of spring: we have a housefly. No idea where he came from, but he's buzzing about our place. As harbingers of spring go, it's no robin or crocus, but I'll take what I can get.

October. November. December. January. February. And now March.

What do those months have in common? Those have been the months that is has snowed here. After a few weeks of melting, and even a day or two of above-freezing temperatures, I heard rumours of snow falling elsewhere in Sweden last night. I feared that Nynäshamn would be next, and it was: there's a dusting of the white stuff that I used to love and now hate on the ground this morning.

Will this winter ever end?



I have been compulsively reading Salam Pax's The Bagdad Blog. I stumbled onto his actual blog Where is Raed? just over a year ago and have been reading it ever since. It is a rivetting account of life inside Iraq from the point of view of this intelligent, witty, young guy living in Bagdad. I remember posting a link to it in the forum here during the war and it caused quite a slanging match between those who thought it was genuine and those who thought it was fake. Well, it's real. And a wonderful, bittersweet read.

Another in my popular on-line quizzes follows. The amazing thing is that I didn't cheat (though the questions were a bit loaded...) and I got the best possible outcome!

Click on the link to "Country Quiz" at the end and see if you are a legend like me!

You're Australia!

You're easy-going, relaxed, and yet somewhat tough and hardy all at the same time.  You can appreciate culture, scuba diving, and even safaris.  This makes you pretty interesting and intriguing to others, though also really unpredictable and even wild.  Your knowledge of nature is unthinkable to most of those around you, even though your respect for it is sometimes less than perfect.  People really like your accent.
Take
the Country Quiz at the href="http://bluepyramid.org">Blue Pyramid

Yes, like the proverbial bad penny I'm back again after my sell-out exclusive appearance on ABC Radio's Beyond the Backyard. Yes, my 5 seconds of fame has gone to my head and now I'm selling autographed pictures of myself at a great rate (in my dreams!)

Funny picture for today comes from the coast road at Strandvägen:



What do they look like? Various suggestions include rabid whales, rocks who have just brushed their teeth and are about to rinse, rocks with a milk moustache, sea monsters with a Donny Osmond smile, zinc creamed Aussie cricketers and cannonball-like monsters in the Mario games for the Nintendo!

While the signs of spring are certainly there, albeit carefully hidden, it still remains extremely cold and icy as you can see fron today's view from the fishing pier. I dare not venture further out than this as it's a sure recipe for me to go sliding across the narrow gangway and taking an impromptu pre-spring dip in the icy water. I've actually done that once before when we lived near the shores of Lake Mälaren and it was not a pleasant experience.

But at least the sun is shining, the sky is blue and it is much brighter in general. Dare I say, almost time to uncover Fiona and take her for a spin? Well, we have to wait for the ice to leave the bay she is in first.

A friend sent me a link to a rather cute Swedish documentary set in Dalarö (not too far from here). It's called Why Would 32 People Buy The Same Car On The Same Day? It is rather long, and you might not want to bother to click if you don't have broadband and several minutes to spare. But I think it does show a little of the surroundings here and the type of housing, everyday life and the people.

The Swedish word for the day is:

Nordöstersjökustartilleriflygspaningssimulatoranläggningsmaterielunderhållsuppföljningssystemdiskussionsinläggsförberedelsearbeten.

It means preparatory work on the contribution to the discussion of the maintenance support system for the installation equipment of the northeast coast's air surveillance simulator.

Not only is this the longest Swedish word, it is also, apparently, the longest word of any language. Something for Swedes to be proud of, I should think.

I've had that Sesame Street song running through what passes for my brain for days now. Ever since I learned that in the rubber duck world, I'm an Inventive Duck. I make my friends wonder :)



Well there's certainly some truth to that statement. Click on the duck and take the test yourself.

R.I.P. winter! It's sunny today, which means that most of the snow has melted, the footpaths are full of puddles, and there is the distinct smell of spring in the air. Time to bury the snowman.

A trip to see the ducks at the harbour shows that this is very much the case:



You can see that people are warmly dressed - it is after all only -2C, but it's sunny, the snow has almost disappeared and the variety of duck types has increased. Hey I even see a gull or two there - and with the return of these few birds is the signal that spring is on it's way.

Of course it may be another trick of mother nature, but at least there are signs. The main disadvantage, besides the false hope it provides, to these false spring starts we've had lately is that the snow melts during the day and re-freezes at night. This creates a hazardous walking environment, as the new ice is very smooth and slippery. I'm grateful to have safety spikes in these conditions as I've not perfected the art of slipping over and looking elegant.

Today's walk took me along to our new mooring space at Smörpundet.



Yes, there is water somewhere under that ice! Our new space will be on the left hand side of the pier, right in front of the little brown hut. I think it will be a great view from there across the bay. The advantage of us moving here is that there is electricity on this pier (great for when we need to use power tools), water nearby to fill our tanks and we are at the entrance of the bay, so we get to sticky beak on all of the comings and goings. There is also the birdlife to enjoy.



Though these swans can be a touch on the pushy side during summer. This family were here last season as well. We were astounded to see the pair had EIGHT cygnets. We usually see one or two, but never so many. They were quite a popular attraction around the guest harbour and it's nice to see them back again.

While it's calm and sunny today, it was quite stormy and cold yesterday. It was sooooo windy here. Brrrr. I was chilled to the bone all day. But I find myself drawn to the sound of the wind and the roaring trees in the the night. I end up going to the balcony, opening the door a crack, and standing there for a bit. Listening. Longing. I'm not sure for what. A normal life? Nää. For my family? For a kindred spirit, a best friend in my town? For the courage to dream again? For a dream? For mastery of the Swedish language? For sleep? For summer? For the future?? Don't know.

Our slumbers were interrupted yesterday morning by a call from a man who lives opposite the bay where Fiona is moored. He reported that our cover had blown off during the night. When Lars-Göran went down to inspect it, he found that it had come off in the gale force winds, wound itself around the two wind generators and broken one of the blades. So it went from the usual:



And the sight that greeted Lars-Göran was:



With the wind generator damaged:



*SIGH*

It really is an expense we could do without at the moment. You must replace two blades (the damaged one and the one directly opposite) because it needs to be perfectly balanced with a blade the identical weight. So I guess we need to get on to the manufacturer and order them.

I didn't know this before, but "to poodle" means to roll a gutter ball while bowling. Amazing what you learn on google! Of course I get some really weird searches going. Which is how I can come up with sites like a knitted Elvis wig (scroll up to see the picture) or if that doesn't do it for you, how about knitting a chicken hat.

At least it distracts my mind from worrying about the boat expenses :)

I hate it when I dream that I've woken up from a bad dream, but then the alarm goes off sometime later and I have to do the whole wake up thing again, only for real. That's happened the last two mornings, so tonight I'm going to have to program my brain not to do that. Anyone know how to program a brain? It can't be much harder than purl can it?

I should have known better last night than to take out my snowman socks to wear today. We awoke to snow- a lot of it. I admit I had begun to hope for spring after those sunny, above freezing days last week. *sigh*

What bothers me most at this time of the year is the constant snow, followed by warmer temperatures. This is just enough to melt the snow and make lots of slush, which then freezes hard and gets polished over. The result is that I have to walk gingerly (much like a woman that's about to give birth) on my way to the shop and back. Not one of nature's more enchantingly graceful sights I can tell you.

My friend's cat is sitting in a bag you only see once a year here. The buses, trains and underground have been filled this week with people carrying similar shopping bags from the various bookshops in town: a sure sign that it is time for Sweden's annual book sale. This practice began in the 1920s when publishers wanted to get rid of remaindered books.

These days they even print extra and special editions, and on opening night (February 24th), many bookshops opened their doors at midnight for a few hours for book lovers.

The first year I was in Sweden we journeyed into to Stockholm in -16C temperatures and braved the snow for the midnight opening. At that time, I'd only been in Sweden for two months, so I knew no Swedish and didn't buy anything, though I enjoyed the spectacle of queues of people braving the late hour in Arctic conditions all in the name of literature!

In a land where about 40 percent of the population reads a book for an average of 55 minutes on any given day (according to statistics from the Swedish Writers' Union), this sale is a big thing. But we're not talking huge numbers - in a market of some 9 million Swedish speakers, a book that sells 10,000 copies is a best-seller, more or less. But, you've got to love a country where a book sale is eagerly awaited by nearly half the population.

This year, we weren't quite crazy enough to be there at midnight, but we did trek through a blizzard to buy books. Well, I kind of tell a lie there, because we actually took the bus, but it WAS snowing like hell! And that didn't stop the Swedish public either, because the book stores were crammed, bless their literate little hearts!

This is the first year that I feel confident enough reading Swedish to tackle Swedish books. And for the first time since 2000, we had money to spend on booooooks! I bought Moberg's Utvandrarna (the Emigrants) series, two volumes containing the four novels, a book of boring postcards (it's hilarious!), John Bauers Sagovärld's Det var en gång... (I'm drooling over his illustrations) and a guide book of parks and gardens in Sweden.

I was tempted to buy lots of other books, but I resisted. Though maybe I'll go back to see if there is a copy left of Karin Boye's poetry. Boooooooooks! I'm a happy woman.