While I read in this morning's Advertiser that Adelaide is sweltering and set for a sizzling exit to 2005, here in Sweden, we have been under the grip of relentless snowstorms for the last few days. I still can't quite grasp the concept that while I am rugged up in four layers of clothing and a woolly hat, gloves and scarf, simultaneously, across the other side of the planet, my family and friends are hiding inside from the 42.7C heat and trying to find ways of staying cool. Come and visit me here and I can show you "cool". At minus 4C, you can experience a few degrees of separation.

The snow is really beautiful and I do love the way it softens the landscape. However as you can see from the above picture, it can be a serious traffic hazard and in the cities it can also be an enormous pain in the bum as pollution and traffic churn the roads up into a dirty mess. How much better to live out in the sticks like I do, where the landscape stays pristine and clean so much longer.



This is the weather for cosy winter nights by a crackling fire and decadent hot chocolate to keep everyone warm - and of course snow icecream. A friend gave me a recipe the other day for this and I am keen to try it out. The recipe came from her grandfather who used to make it in the days before electric refrigeration - not that you need a fridge or freezer here at the moment (just pop everything on the balcony!).

Apparently, all you need a cup of whole milk, 1-2 teaspoons of vanilla and half to a cup of sugar and a large bowl of freshly fallen snow. Take your large bowl of snow and stir the snow around a bit to fluff it up. Then you quickly stir in just enough milk to make the right consistency of ice cream. Start with about 1/2 cup and keep going until you have enough to make the snow creamy. If you add too much milk and it becomes runny, just add some more snow. Then stir in a little vanilla and sugar, and Viola, you've got yourself some homemade snow ice cream! I guess the only place you could try this in Adelaide is at The Ice Arena, Thebarton *grin*

We've had Lars-Göran's daughter Madde here to stay as she is home for a visit before heading off for three months to India, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka as part of her course. She brought us some beautiful handmade soap from Yavannas Tvålmakeri in Tomelila. The soaps smell heavenly and I am going to love using them.

She travelled with us up to Stockholm last night for a family post-Christmas get together. And of all days it had to be the one where it snowed continuously and trains and buses were delayed or cancelled! In the early afternoon as the snow piled up, it looked like we may not be able to leave and logging onto the train and bus website did not do a thing to reassure us - there were delays everywhere! But we decided to leave early, give it a try and see how far we could get.

Which is why I was shivering beside the bus stop just before 3pm.



I was luckier though than the car owners who had to dig out their vehicles from the snow banks. Even though the ploughs had passed by at least three times today, they had trouble keeping up with the persistent snowfall.



And despite the heavy snow, it was business as usual around town for the local council workers. Down near the harbour, next to the local fish smokery, the rubbish truck was attempting to collect the wheelie bins. But as you can see, the snow made it hard and the ducks did their best to get in the way. I waited, expecting to hear the screech of brakes and instant frozen duck paté - but nothing that gruesome happened.



As it turned out, we were not delayed at all despite expecting the worst and arrived early at Huddinge. At Christer's home, we all gathered for a festive dinner. It was a joint effort with everyone helping out and we tucked into a meal of smoked salmon rolls, followed by an Asian styled beef (such an easy and delicious recipe) and rice, a vegetarian stew and mini quiches. And of course, cake and coffee. It was an evening of laughter, chatting, good food and wine and a feeling of belonging.



I came home flush with love and happiness. Several times in the past few days, I have thought about how extraordinarily lucky I am in the family department. My family here are smart, loving, interesting, funny and engaged people. Which is not to say that everybody loves everybody else every moment of every day, or that there's never a bit of drama in the dynamic. But, mostly, the family thing rocks. I would not have predicted this ease of familial blending. Lars-Göran and I come from very different backgrounds in terms of religion, geography, socio-economic status, education, world-view, cultural exposure, extended family, and more. Yet somehow, despite all of this it works out splendidly.

So while you swelter and contemplate total firebans in Adelaide, think of me tonight in the snow and drool over MY weather chart :)



See you all next year!



'Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right.' Oprah Winfrey.

When I first moved to Sweden I didn't know the language at all, but that didn't stop me from trying to read the weather report every day. I thought it was an interesting feature that they reported the weather on the north pole. I remember saying to people while attempting to make conversation, "It's really warm at the North Pole today, I read about it in the paper." After a year or so I realised that the paper was printing the forecast for northern Poland ('Norra Polen'), and not the North Pole ('Nord Polen'). Oops!

And in case you were wondering, you can check out today's weather at the North Pole, which is not quite the same as the weather in Nynäshamn.

Here today we are awaiting the first winter blizzard, which promises a lot of snow and gale force winds. Luckily Lars-Göran went down and secured the boat properly yesterday.



As you can see, even before today's weather gets to hit us that there is plenty of snow around. This includes on the deck, which the poor man had to sweep off. The boat ought to really be covered by now, but we were hoping to go out for a little New Year's Eve sailing weekend. Yes, I know... are we mad? But as the girls are here at the moment that may or may not happen. We'll see. So he had to take our new broom and sweep it all off. After the witch suggestion he made at the Christmas market, I'm quite happy to let him do it ALONE.



Yesterday I took the chance to stock up on groceries so that apart from taking Lambi out for her daily walks, I can stay inside and finish off reading Peter Carey's My Life as a Fake. I'm thoroughly enjoying the book, not in the least because I was fascinated by the whole Ern Malley affair when I studied at university and in fact used to shop regularly at Max Harris's well stocked bookshop in Grenfell Street. There is nothing I like better on a day like this than curling on the couch with a good book. I often feel sorry for people who don't like to read. They miss so many beautiful, unique experiences and so many opportunities to learn.

While walking to the supermarket yesterday, I noticed how lovely everything looked, despite the cold and the darkness. It's the snow that makes such a difference. Even a couple of days later when the ploughs have made high walls that line the streets and the sand spray from the wheels of passing vehicles have splattered them brown, it still looks great.



That is the lunchtime rush in Nynäshamn! Though I ought not to joke as a couple of days before Christmas a woman was knocked over near here. I passed by the scene as the ambulance crew arrived and looked at her shopping strewn across Centralgatan - Christmas ham, meatballs, cheese, wrapping paper etc. The sight of those simple groceries brought a lump to my throat - in the simple act of doing something quite ordinary, she was struck down. I hope she wasn't hurt too badly, though it looked pretty serious. It also made me think of those who will lose their lives over Christmas in road accidents. The road toll here stands at nine, but I see in Australia it is a whopping twenty seven! People, please be careful!

Back in sleepy little Nynäshamn, even the elderly are out and about in this weather, pushing their little rullator along the snowy pathways. I'm not sure whether it is because I walk so much more here than I did in Adelaide, but I notice that there are a lot more old people out walking around than I ever saw back home.



In addition the trip home along our street is so pretty with the snow covering everything. Snow can transform the most ordinary spot into something you wish you could paint. Coming up from the supermarket, I looked up and watched a flock of blackbirds wheeling into the air as the wind tore the white coverlet off the shivering trees. I even saw a shy arctic fox, resplendent in it's silvery winter coat slink along the pathway - there is something to marvel over even in the ordinary task of doing the weekly shopping!



I am quite overcome with beauty and the warmth of home. Of course, this is December. Catch me around the third week of February after the 25th snow storm of the season. I may find it all a little less enchanting.

.... these are a few of my favourite things!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snowLet it snow, let it snow, let it snowLet it snow, let it snow, let it snowLet it snow, let it snow, let it snowLet it snow, let it snow, let it snowLet it snow, let it snow, let it snow

At last, on Christmas afternoon, the snow fell down in big, soft, fat flakes and made the world look clean and bright. I was sitting on the couch engrossed in a good book - Tim Winton's Dirt Music - and glanced up towards the living room window and the world was white! It took a few seconds to sink in, then I saw that it was the first snow fall for Christmas! I will never get used to it and everytime I see it I turn into a little kid, soooo excited!

I rushed over to the balcony door where I saw snow clinging to the branches of our hedge like marshmallow magic. That was my cue to don my winter gear (including my snow spikes for my shoes) and head outside to marvel at the scene. The harbour area was peaceful, with the fishing boats bobbing by the pier which was covered with a white blanket.



From Freja's Holme, we could see our boat Fiona really clearly across the black water, with the tiny islet of smörpundet turned into a big marshmallow. I know that people in Australia will scratch their heads and wonder why we are out taking pictures in the middle of the night - but it isn't. It's just after 4pm. Simon and Garfunkel were not joking when they sang about a deep and dark December.



On the way home, the wind picked up and started to chill me down a bit as in my excitement to be out, I had forgotten to wear my woolly scarf. We went up to the church and looked down towards the harbour area. You can see our friend Björn's boat Gipsy Lady lit up with Christmas lights and looking very festive.



By this time I was getting cold around the throat, so we quickly scooted through centrum and headed for home. Wow, I think I see three cars in the next picture - it must be peak hour in Nynäshamn...



Honestly, you just have to love the peace and tranquility of a small town.

It was a great relief to fall in the front door into a warm and inviting apartment. Whenever the snow hits, I simply love that beautiful white blanket that covers everything, and makes me feel warm and cosy inside my house. The big glass of red wine and a plate of cheese and biscuits also helped.

And as promised yesterday, the picture of my pretty candle holders (well, one of them anyway). They look even better in real life, with their sparkly foil stars and dangling pieces of lingon. Yeah, I know, I thought it was holly as well, much to the amusement of my Swede who looked at me and said "What's holly?" I had to look the word up (it's järnek in case you wondered), but he insists the sprigs are meant to be lingon. I have to admit that the leaves are not spiky like holly, so I have to reluctantly concede that point.



Christmas in Sweden has not been full of peace and goodwill this year. Glancing at the local papers today, I see that it has been marked by a startling degree of violence, including a riot involving a hundred or so young men in Stockholm on julafton which has left a twenty four year old man fighting for his life in hospital. Another fight in the south of the country involved hundreds of young men. There was also the sad litany of domestic violence stories, including a woman who attacked her husband and son with an axe. It's all quite depressing.

Today also marks the one year anniversary of the tsunami that hit areas of Asia and ceremonies have been held across Sweden to remember the 220,000 people who lost their lives.



And candles were lit in the snow at Skansen to commemorate the 543 Swedes who perished that day.

One of the things I love about Sweden in December is the way it lives up to my clichéd idea of the perfect Christmas. While you are out and about, everyone is rugged up drinking glögg, kids are skating on impromptu rinks and the Christmas lights twinkle brighter than you could ever imagine on these dark northern nights. I was telling one of my good friends back in Oz about it and she said it sounded like a fairy tale. I guess it is. It is exactly like the white Christmases I’d seen in movies, on television in books and on every Christmas card I’d ever received.

I’d always thought that Christmas felt a bit ‘tacked on’ Downunder. A red velvet suit is not suitable attire for a portly gentleman anywhere in Australia in December. And I don’t think a Christmas roast and plum pudding with hot custard was ever meant to be eaten in 40C degree heat. (Not that you could ever tell my mother that.) In later years we had cold seafood and picnics on the beach instead. It's a great way to spend Christmas, in your bathers, munching on a prawn with a beer or ice cold champagne in the other hand, on the beach with the radio blaring songs about White Christmas which took on a whole new meaning with our beautiful sandy white beaches.

But now, living in Sweden, I have to say that today there are some things I really, really miss.

In no particular order they are:

* Big juicy red cherries and golden peaches suddenly appearing in the fruit shops.
* Avenues bursting with jacaranda blossoms
* The constant racket of cicadas.
* My friends and family.
* The smell of jasmine as you stumble home late after Christmas drinks.
* Getting a couple of kilos of freshly cooked prawns and tucking into them with friends.
* The Boxing Day Test match.
* A Christmas morning barbeque by the beach.

I think my new friend Jacqui (another antipodean love refugee in Sweden, but from sunny South Africa) put it really well when she said in her post about Christmas "It´s not easy when you miss everyone and imagine what they are busy doing while you are are on the otherside of the globe."

So very true!

Having said that, I did have a really enjoyable julafton with Lars-Göran's family. We have a few pictures to share, even though Lars-Göran considers them "below standard" - unfortunately the "candlelight" setting on our camera requires a *very* steady hand -- something I didn't have after a couple cups of glögg. And Lars-Göran mutters things about no flexibility in camera settings and people moving around, but I know you'll overlook that.

We arrived in Huddinge just after lunch time, laden down with food and presents. While I don't like to get presents myself, I do like to give them. Strange, isn't it? So I had enjoyed finding a few choice goodies over the last few weeks, wrapping them and thinking of the all important christmas rhyme (julrim) for the gift cards.

The Swedish word for Christmas presents is julklappar - literally "Christmas knocks". This refers to a very old custom, pre-dating the idea of Santa, where gifts were distributed in a very odd way. One would sneak up to the house, knock on the door then toss the present inside (let's hope it wasn't something fragile from Orrefors!) and make off without being recognised. The wrapping on these "christmas knocks" would contain an ironic rhyme. These days, one uses a rhyme that hints at what the gift may be, using a play on words.

We sat around chatting and doing some of the initial food preparation until everyone had arrived.



Everything was well organised and very relaxed as we sipped on glögg, nibbled on raisins and almonds and settled down to watch Kalle Anka (which I described here). My sister-in-law and I managed to snaffle the comfy chairs - well at least for half of it, after which we had to go back to the kitchen to finish off the food preparations. Even Lambi-Claus joined in relaxing, though she could smell the food and was puzzled as to why we were all sitting around watching tv when there was food to be shared with her.



While we busied ourselves in the kitchen, others made sure that the table was set out in the conservatory, which looked really sparkling and festive in the late afternoon gloom. No, that's not a misprint. It's about 3.30pm at this stage and as dark as a winter's night back home.



There were fewer of us this year, as every second year Lars-Göran's children spend julafton with their mother. We will all be getting together again for dinner later in the week, but for today there were the seven of us.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen Mille and I worked at last minute tasks. Even Lars-Göran was pressed ganged into peeling and halving the hard boiled eggs. The Swedish Christmas dinner is very big on protein, with typical fish offerings including gravlax (raw salmon cured in a salt-sugar-dill mixture) sliced paper thin and served with a dill-mustard sauce, various kinds of raw, marinated sill (herring), sillsallad (a “salad” made with herring and beetroot in a cream sauce), Janssons Frestelse ( or Jansson’s temptation, a gratin with potatoes, onions, cream, and anchovies), hard boiled eggs topped with caviar or small prawns and even lobster pieces. Other things on the smörgåsbord will include: Swedish meatballs, mustard coated baked ham , prinskorv (a tiny frankfurter), tjälknöl (chilblain roasted meat, served cold and thinly sliced), cheeses and various kinds of breads. And no Swedish meal would be complete without the ubiquitous boiled potatoes!



This is about half of it laid out on the serving board! We also had the vegetarian dishes that I made, plus various salad vegetables cut and arranged on a colourful platter. It looked so inviting that we all had no trouble digging in heartily, washing it down with toasts of ice cold vodka and glasses of julmust.

After our meal, it was time for tomte to arrive and hand out the gifts.



We all cried out "Hey! Where's your beard?", but tomte, who bore an uncanny resemblance to my brother-in-law Christer, told us that he was the new, improved, stream-lined version Stockholm tomte!



He read out the rhymes and we all made suggestions and guesses as to what the gifts could be. I like this way of distributing gifts - it takes a while but is the subject of a lot of laughter and community spirit. Some of the rhymes are really clever - especially those from my sister-in-law who has a real gift for them.

In the middle of this, we got a surprise visit from Lars-Göran's youngest daughter who had finished with her mother's christmas dinner and was passing by on her way to a friend's home for the night. Everyone was delighted to see her and she nursed Lambi while we opened our gifts.

Tomte was obviously reading this blog as Lars-Göran got that map of Långviksskär he needed. He also got enough chocolates, wine gums and those ghastly green jelly balls to last a normal person for a whole year. Which means he will eat them all by tomorrow!



My best gift? Well, from Lars-Göran, I got a pair beautiful, delicate glass candle holders. This was a complete surprise for me and involved a bit of detective work on his part. I had seen them in the window of one of the little shops in the harbour. I loved them instantly and pointed them out to him weeks and weeks ago. But these shops are only open "for the season" (ie June to September), so I had not thought about it again.

My dear husband had gone down there during the week and consulted some friends who have an office nearby. There was no number for the shop, but they put him on to the woman who owns the shop next door and after a little persuasion, she gave him the owner's phone number. He rang and enquired about the candle holders and about whether she lived in Nynäshamn and was going to her shop before Christmas.

She lives in Stora Vika, but told him that a Nynäshamn woman could be able to open up the shop for him. A later phone call indicated that the local woman had gone to Umeå for Christmas! But as she had to collect a few things from the shop for her home before Christmas eve, she agreed to come all the way from Stora Vika by bus and sell him the candle holders.

And people say there is no customer service in Sweden!

I'll post a picture later in the week when I remember to take one. As well as one of Seymour's new friends....

The only thing missing from julafton was the snow. Today, like us, Bruce is looking out the window waiting for the forecast snow to arrive.



I think the funniest gift was the banana guard that someone gave Christer. What will they think of next? It has been a great day, in no small part thanks to the warmth and generosity of Lars-Göran's family who have always made me feel very welcome and very much a member of their family. For which I am very grateful.



Merry Christmas!



And look, it's snowing outside and showing no signs of stopping! Thankyou, Santa. I'm off to go out and enjoy it while it lasts. And humming Emerson, Lake and Palmer's classic lines They said there'll be snow at Christmas

Christmas seems to come earlier each year and catches me underprepared. It wasn't always like that, was it? Remember when we were kids - it took a whole year from one Christmas to the next. It seemed to take forever! But now - We just get over one Christmas and the next one begins to loom. I wonder why that is so?

When I was a child, Christmas was wondrous and magical time. It was a time in which I believed in a Santa who effortlessly visited every child in the world and left them gifts from their Christmas wish list.

Now, as an adult, it's still a special time, but I will never be the same, and I will never be able to recapture those same feelings of anticipation and excitement and sheer delight as seen through the eyes of a child.

However, there are still some things that delight me, including the gingerbread house display in centrum. Each year there is a local contest and this year, people have really outdone themselves. I am fascinated by gingerbread houses. They're so much fun and imaginative and I love seeing all the amazing things that people can do with them. People make houses, castles, scenes and whole villages.

It completely fascinates me as I come from a culture where we just don't do that (probably because it is too darn hot to bake). In Adelaide, I remember a little Hungarian bakery that I passed in James Place each day. Is that Budapest bakery? At Christmas they sold small gingerbread houses that looked like tiny fairy homes. I used to stand in front of the shop and admire them and marvel at the art involved in designing and then making and assembling them. Now I live in a country where it is very much the done thing and where you can buy them in kit form at the local supermarket. I'm going to try and make one next year, I think.

Anyway, the winner was announced by the local paper today:



We went down to the local real estate agent's office to take a look at all of the entries earlier today and I was gobsmacked at just how much trouble people had gone to. You can click on the pictures to make it bigger and see them in closer detail.



This one features a local manor house called Herrhamra Gård. It was enormous and really very detailed. Can you imagine how long all of those windows took to do? The other smaller hose, which was also on the front page of the paper was called Läkarhuset - and refers to a local controversy over whether the council should offer doctors a luxury house in order to entice them to come and work in Nynäshamn. The lack of a full time doctor here has been an ongoing problem. As long as I've been here it has been a succession of locums who stay a few months then move on. So that was a bit of social commentary as well as a cute house.



These were a few of the others on display. What a pity that nobody had thought to cover the cardboard cartons so they looked a little more presentable! There are the usual cottages, a nativity scene, a woodland scene and in the far background is a gingerbread version of another local structure - the oil refinery terminal, complete with storage tanks, pipes and offices.



This view shows the old station house - a beautiful old wooden building down by the harbour. It was a very detailed model, with even the clock displayed, along with the old fashioned telephone box on one side and the traffic lights that are by the pedestrian crossing over Järnvägsgatan. There was an older woman also admiring the display and she thought it was the best one for many years. I tend to agree.

I've been flat out cooking today, making my share of the Christmas goodies to share with the family. As half of them are vegetarian and the Swedish julbord does not offer a lot of vegetables, I've made a few things to bring for them. I did a Spanish stew full of onions, garlic, bell peppers, aubergines, zucchini and black olives in a spicy sauce of tomato, coriander and jalapeno. I'll make some fresh cous-cous to serve with it. I also made a salad of red onions, chickpeas with a pesto, lemon dressing. In addition, I did a few dozen leek and cheese tarts and some basil flavoured felafel balls. I think that should keep them happy.

Today is the final day before julafton. In Sweden, we celebrate Christmas on the 24th, so tomorrow we are heading up to my brother-in-law's home in Huddinge to watch Kalle Anka, eat dinner with the family and hopefully tomte will have something for me as I haven't been ALL naughty this year - in fact I've been pretty nice.

You Were Mostly Nice This Year!

Sure, you had your naughty moments... but guess what? Santa was probably sleeping when you were living it up. As far as he's concerned, you've been on your best behavior. So cross your fingers, and you might score good presents.

The only thing I'd like to see is some SNOW! It has been plus degrees for the last two days and all of the lovely snow has gone. I figure that if it is going to be cold, it may as well snow so we get something pretty to look at. Unfortunately, it seems that my wish for a white Christmas will not come true this year. It's the first year I've been here on Christmas Day and not seen snow. I suggested travelling to the far north where they have tons of snow at the moment, but that was not enthusiastically greeted by the other members of the family. They would rather be in Australia, where Christmas is more like this!

What can I say? I found it mysteriously in my bag when I came home from shopping.



I admit that I DID spot little Seymour when I passed through centrum, sitting forlornly in the window and calling out my name. But I was strong. I resisted. "Not for very long" said Lars-Göran, who seems to be under the impression that because I knew the little moose's name that we were already acquainted. It was then that I resorted to the tried and true "But daddy, what could I do? He just followed me home!", which still failed to convince him that I didn't deliberately go into the shop and buy the candle holder. Anyway, as there is no receipt to be found, he gets to stay and brighten up the winter for me.

Today is officially the first day of winter as yesterday was the winter solstice, meaning that it was the shortest day of the year. Yay! By this evening, winter is half-over and the days will begin to lengthen in the northern hemisphere once more!

Sailng weather is coming back! But not just yet.......



In Nynäshamn today the sun rose at 9.08am and set at 2.49pm - that's 5 hours and 41 minutes of semi-daylight. Exactly one second longer than yesterday. Maybe nothing to get overly excited about, but at least it is heading in the right direction. As I told Lars-Göran, it could have been worse. If we lived way up north in the country like my Australian friend Sharon (who lives in Kiruna) there would be no daylight today at all. How do they survive? And a little further south in Bureå, there is a total of 41 minutes of daylight today (sunrise 11.15am, sunset 11.51am. Now you know why they call that area The Vodka Belt.

In the Viking era, this time of the year used to be marked by enormous mid winter feasts or sacrifices (Midvinterblot). There was a belief that unless appropriate homage was paid to the gods, the sun would not return. When you live in these high latitudes and experience the enormous contrast between mid summer and mid winter, you can well believe that there is some magic involved in the process. These feasts went on for days and days, with animals killed then roasted over enormous fires and eaten communally. There was also apparently a cycle every nine years where humans were sacrificed, as depicted in Carl Larsson's amazing oil painting, now displayed in the National Gallery in Stockholm.



The subject of this highly contoversial painting depicts King Domalde in front of the temple in Uppsala, about to sacrifice himself in the belief that this selfless act will bring greater future harvests and general well-being to his people. The story is attributed to Adam of Bremen, a chronicler who lived in the 12th century. This has been hotly debated among historians and no clear answers have been found.

But this dark time of the year has a special feeling even today and Swedes keep many candles burning to ward off the darkness. We are no exception.



Oh look... is that Seymour in the bottom left hand corner doing his bit to lighten our day?

I've been busy today making knäck, wrapping gifts and trying to think of decent rhymes for the Christmas gift tags. It's not easy to write a funny yet cryptic message hinting at what the gift is - in Swedish! Our family really like these so called julrim and I think they add a bit of fun to gift giving. But my brain really hurts at the moment.

I saw this story the other day and it made me smile: Christmas Home for Garden Gnomes? I hope all the little guys are happy in their new home.

I'll leave you with another Christmas quiz as I preapre to get out our own tree all ready to be put up tomorrow.

You Are a Bright Christmas Tree

For you, the holidays are all about fun and seasonal favorites. You are into all things Christmas, even if they're a little tacky.

It was a sunny and crisp afternoon in Stockholm yesterday. Cold. Very cold. When it's that cold, there's nothing better than being inside. Inside NK that is! I spent part of the afternoon there, undergoing some well earned retail and cappuchino therapy with an old and a couple of new friends.

Shops like NK are part shopping, part fantasy. Everything looks so perfect. The food in their food hall looks delicious, decadent and smells divine. I loved spending time soaking up the sights and smells of this shrine to food. We then went to look at the other levels. The accessories looked chic and expensive. The jewellery in the luxury goods section shone brighter than any jewel you've ever seen.

Even going from floor to floor is an adventure. The escalators have mood lighting and there is classical music playing. The levels are dotted with platforms displaying beautiful designer goods and clothes. It reminds me of a classy David Jones (always my favourite department store in Adelaide).

Each floor is like a maze. At every turn is another area crammed with the best of everything. Crystal, silver, bone china, designer gowns, expensive lingerie, shoes, books. The finest of everything! I usually get quite lost and yesterday was no different. But it's a good 'lost'... if you know what I mean? You can also go for afternoon tea there. Little sandwiches and tiny cakes. So much fun!

The day began badly with the train delayed, then cancelled and replaced by a bus that also broke down leaving us stranded by the side of the road in minus 9C about 2 kms from Västerhaninge. Always a joy early in the morning. So I arrived in town quite late and more than a little annoyed. But that was soon dispelled when I met up with my friends Carolyn, Kimberly and Marie. After shopping a little around centralen, we made our way to Gamla Stan (the old town) and did a little more browsing and buying before heading across to a gorgeous little café in the main square - Chokladkoppen.



They make a very famous white chocolate hot drink that the others all had and raved over. I'm not a lover of chocolate, so I chose green tea instead. It was warm and very cosy inside this tiny but atmospheric café and I will do my best to drag Lars-Göran along there as he adores white chocolate.

The Christmas market was in full spring and we looked at a few of the stalls, smelled the mixture of warm mulled wine and spicy bread and admired the cute stalls of handmade tomte.



Then it was a brisk walk over to Söder via Slussen with our goal being The English Shop as Carolyn needed a few things and I needed to buy Vegemite. Urgently! I also bought some little plum puddings for Christmas Day and am rather proud that I talked Marie (a Swede!) into buying a jar of Vegemite to try. I'll convert the whole country - just give me time!

After a quick lunch and a sticky beak through the food hall, we walked back to the city popping into interesting shops on the way, then prowled through the antiquarian bookshops along Odenplan. This was followed uo by the whole NK experience and a quick prowl through Gallerian, along with saffron buns and julmust at Edelweiss Café.

Then home - tired and broke, but very happy. Now to wrap my purchases....

I have fallen utterly in love with Andrea Bocelli, again.

I spent my evening yesterday drooling over him, mesmerised by his singing of so many familiar songs, tunes that are close to my heart, melodies that I have listened to time and again. I admit it - I'm an opera freak and he really is a fabulous singer.

We left Nynäshamn quite early for the one hour train trip to Älvsjö where we met up with Lars-Göran's daughter who we had bribed into looking after Lambi while we were at the concert. Then it was a fifteen minute bus ride to Gullmarsplan and a ten minute walk to Globen in the crisp, cold, snowy evening. We were both really glad to get inside to the warmth, even if it turned out that we were ridiculously early. We'd actually arrived with about 40 minutes to spare. A quick walk around the venue revealed stalls selling food and drinks - including popcorn! I really don't associate eating popcorn with sitting and listening to opera and I was stunned to see people buying huge tubs of the stuff to take inside along with huge cups of soft drink. I thought they must have been confused and were a week early for the next ice hockey game.

The venue is enormous and we peeped inside from the rear entrance and snapped a quick shot so you get an idea of this cavernous place. Considering how difficult it can be to amplify and balance the sound of an entire orchestra and three singers, and that it was in a venue best designed for loud rock music, hockey and show jumping, the quality of the sound was amazing.



It has a seating capacity of 15,000 people and by the time the concert started, the place was packed. We had very good seats, with a clear view of the stage (13 rows back) and settled down for a great evening. The very polished Czech National Symphony Orchestra began the evening with the overture from Nabucco by Verdi under the guidance of the energetic conductor Marcello Rota and soon after, the crowd erupted into a big round of applause as Bocelli appeared on stage.

The program was mainly from his operatic repetoire, rather than his more contemporary work. A notable exception was the moving Di Capua song O Sole Mio, which brought tears to my eyes as I recalled my children's dear nonno out in his tomato garden, dusting the plants and tying up the bushes on a summer evening, singing this very song in his clear, strong tenor voice.

Bocelli's very first solo song was Mattinata by Leoncavallo - an instantly recognisable song indeed, and one of my all time favourite operatic tunes.



It was at this stage, as I was immersed in the music that a heated argument broke out in the row behind us as a group of four latecomers loudly disputed with people who they claimed were sitting in their seats. Lars-Göran had to turn around and tell them to shut up as they went on and on about this being section A26 not A24. These same people spent the concert chewing gum and bursting the bubbles, moaning about how hard it was to park (even while Bocelli was singing!) and even humming along to the music they knew (like Bizet's Toreodor, which we in Australia would know as "the B&D Roller Door song"). It actually took away some of the enjoyment for us and made us wonder why they spent the 4,000kr on tickets. Surely it would have been cheaper for them to have gone some mud wrestling tournament where this sort of behaviour was okay. Bush pigs!

Okay, rant over...

Many more wonderful songs followed, with works from a myriad of fantastic classical composers including Puccini, Verdi, Tosti, Bizet, De Curtis and Lehar. After every couple of songs, Bocelli would take a short break to allow the audience to appreciate the concertos played by the orchestra, as well as songs by the soprano Patrizia Orciani and the baritone Gianfranco Montresor. At times, they also performed duets together with Bocelli.

I honestly felt happy just being there, and I saw when Bocelli smiled that he was touched by the crowd’s enthusiasm. His emotional connection to a piece shines through in his performance. I have heard more technically perfect opera singers and felt uninspired by their performance, but Andrea Bocelli has both the voice and the emotion to rivet a crowd of thousands in ways that no others have been able to.

The finale - with all three singers doing a superb version of the Brindisi from Verdi's La traviata was a particular highlight. Bocelli did not conclude his concert with just the pieces featured on the program. He performed three well loved encore pieces, before capping the evening with his famous “Time to Say Goodbye” duet together with Orciani.

Watching an opera performance live is amazing and there is just no comparison to a recording in your car or at home. I've cranked up the sound in both to unsafe levels but the resonating of the performer's voice in your ears is something that speakers simply cannot duplicate. Listening to Bocelli project his rich, beautiful voice was the audio equivalent of seeing him fire unwavering arrows towards the back of the venue without any hesitation. Simply awesome.

We went home sated and happy just after midnight and put on his Ceili di Toscana cd. That lulled me into my sleep…

I woke up today in a real Christmas mood. This is in stark contrast to the oh-my-God-and-I-am-not-prepared-for-Christmas-yet mood that usually corresponds to this date.

Maybe it's because it started to snow yesterday in the late evening and kept snowing until late in the night, so somehow the world looks more Christmassy? (Not that there is THAT much snow - but apparently we can expect more to come tomorrow). Or maybe because we lit the last advent candle this morning? Or maybe because there was a concert of Swedish Christmas carols yesterday in our church? Or maybe because we have settled into the warm glögg tradition every evening this week?



Anyway, I've been in the mood to listen to Christmas carols since this morning. I've always had an ambivalent attitude towards carols. I used to love them at the start of advent, but by Christmas day when I'd been subjected to them piped from every shop in town, I could have screamed. In Sweden, though, I've discovered new carols to enjoy and anyway, they don't do the piped muzak thing here so much, so I can control what I listen to - and this morning it has been the wonderful voice of the Norwegian singer Sissel Kyrkjebø.

I love the music but it can make me weepy. There are two songs that just make me cry everytime I hear them. The very first being Ave Maria sung by Andrea Bocelli (I'm going to be a mess if he sings that tonight). That song arouses such emotion in me, as it brings back childhood memories of being at Midnight Mass with my gran on Christmas Eve. I think it must be the whole Catholic upbringing thing as well as the deep love I had for my gran, now sadly deceased. And the other song is the rather sappy and sentimental I'll be home for Christmas. I heard it piped through the mall at Farsta Strand a couple of years ago and burst into tears on the spot. Not a pretty sight. God, how I miss my family right now. If I could have any present in the world this Christmas it would be to be home in Adelaide for the holidays.

But that's not to be and I do love a snowy white Christmas. And I can still see my family in my dreams. It’s amazing at how much one’s “perspective” on a holiday can change, based on where you are.

In a couple of hours we're off to the concert at Globen and Monday will be a day of shopping and hot chocolate therapy with friends in Stockholm.

And with more lovely snow forecast for this week - perfect!

I'll leave you today with a little fun Christmas quiz:

You Are Prancer

You are the perfect reindeer, with perfect hooves and perfect flying form. Why You're Naughty: Because you're Santa's pet, and you won't let anyone show you up. Why You're Nice: You have the softest fur and the sweetest carrot breath.

You can picture the post-Christmas scene in the local schoolyard. Kids are milling around asking the obvious question "Well, what did you get for Christmas?" A few of the less articulate might just mumble something about getting "the usual crap". Only in Sweden folks, might this be more true than you could imagine. In the category of something for the kid who has everything, this year, Design Torget have released a pair of stuffed "animals" called Kiss&Bajs (literally Wee-wee and Poo-poo). And don't they look cute and cuddly?



I laughed for the longest time when I spotted them advertised in the newspaper. I was trying to imagine the look on a child's face when he/she was given them. You could always give them out as a joke present, but at a cool 299kr (that's fifty bucks Australian), that's an expensive laugh.

I've still got a couple of pressies to get, including a new toaster for my mother-in-law (her idea, not mine!) While browsing around for something suitable, I stumbled across the Cinderella toaster. The world truly has gone mad.



It apparently plays a waltz when the toast pops up. Why? Can you imagine what that would do to the morning hangover? And why oh why do you need an image of her or her slippers burnt into your toast? When you spread on the Vegemite, it all gets covered anyway. And as for advertising it as something for "the little princess in your home" - easy stomach! I wonder how many little darlings will be asking Santa for this piece of crap.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the year continues to it's conclusion. It is a cold, clear, crisp and sunny day today, but a very short one as we are only a few days away from the winter solstice. It's a shame that the daylight is so short this time of year when I have so much I want to do. Today, the sun set at 2.40pm after rising at 9.07am, which is not as bad as further north where a friend of mine wrote yesterday saying that her day went from 9.38am to 1.27pm! I'm not too sure how I'd cope with that, as I still sometimes feel the urge to put on my pyjamas at 4pm on the weekends :)

And as it is just after that hour, I think I'll heat up some glögg and snuggle on the couch, finishing off my book The Shadow of the Wind. An excellent book for those who want a thought-provoking read on a cold winter evening in front of the fire. I'm having trouble putting it down - we may not get any dinner tonight at this rate.

I woke up this morning to the melodious sound of the builders drilling in the apartment above us. At 6.45a.m.??? Yes, I am feeling somewhat cantankerous and petulant (not to mention other words you might find listed here). But that is not only because of the interrupted sleep. It seems that despite the fact that I last picked up a tennis racquet in 1970 or there abouts, I have developed tennis elbow. It is incredibly painful and I feel quite handicapped as anything I do with my left hand (and yes, I am left-handed) causes it to throb and ache.

I have been trying to convince Lars-Göran that I cannot possibly do any work of any kind for the next six weeks and that need to simply lie on the couch being waited on hand and foot. However, he's been living with me too long, so he wised up to that attempted scam pretty quickly. So it's painkillers, rest and deep heat for me instead. I thought it was worth a try anyway. The pain does restrict my ability to use the computer and I am trying to type this with one hand. Do you notice the difference?

Today’s ill-humour also may or may not have stemmed from last night’s disastrous attempt to wax my own legs, but that’s another story altogether - and one that no one wants to hear. I usually shave, but I've been less than conscientious about the old legs lately, what with living on the boat and the subzero temperatures (allowing one to conveniently hide inside leggings), so I decided that there was definitely enough foilage in the jungle for waxing. If I look closely enough, I can see little giraffe heads peering above the canopy.

So while Lars-Göran went out to his board meeting last night, I thought I'd have a go. Let’s just say it involved pain, blood curdling screaming, stepping on a wax strip and giving up half way in order to weep in the bath while I roughly ran a BIC Lady Shaver over the remaining patches of old growth forest. Let us never speak of this again.

It's not all doom and gloom, though. Even if the weather is dismal, wet and grey, there is a welcome splash of colour around town as everything is decked out for Christmas. There is a contest running in centrum at the moment asking us to vote for the shop that has the best Christmas window display. There is a huge variety in the way they are decorated and I enjoy peeping in and seeing what everyone has done. They range from the very minimalist plain silver shop fronts right up to the flashing lights and tinsel overload windows that cause Lars-Göran to shudder. The one that instantly appealed to me was at the Eurosko shoe shop:



I can't think of why I thought this one was the best...

I guess we'll find out later in the week which shop was voted the best. I'm always interested in seeing what it is that appeals to people.

On Tuesday night, my dear husband was scanning one of his favourite Swedish buying and selling sites (Blocket) and he noticed some people selling tickets to this Sunday's concert by Andrea Bocelli in Stockholm. We had discussed going to see this earlier in the month, but decided we didn't want to shell out so much money to see him at Globen Arena. Globen is a rather startling looking space age structure dominating the southern approach to the city. I see it from my train window as we cross over Åstabron and pass it each time we drive into town along väg 73.



It's a bit of a soulless place as many of this "entertainment centres" are and I tend to associate it with things like ice hockey matches or the Monster Trucks etc. rather than as a venue for a Bocelli concert. If I was going to pay 1,000kr for a ticket, I'd like to be sitting in the beautiful and elegant concert house or opera house instead. But I do understand that tours like this are about "bums on seats", so these mega-venues are often the chosen locale.

Anyway, a woman on the west coast was selling off her A-section tickets for under half price. We checked it all out, she gave us the booking number and yesterday I popped into Ticnet in central station and picked up two tickets in row 13 for 960kr. These will be an early Christmas present for us, so on Sunday we will drop Lambi off with one of the kids and spend the evening enjoying the warm, expressive voice of Andrea Bocelli.

And with snow forecast for the weekend as well, life is looking pretty good.

We woke up today to the news that Alexandra, the younger daughter of our friends Ulf and Maggan had been voted as Nynäshamn's Lucia for 2005!



I'm really not surprised that she won as she is a lovely girl, with many friends and a quiet confidence and poise that is very endearing. It was also nice to know that our votes helped her to win the title of this year's queen of light.

I talked about the tradition of Lucia last year and the year before, so I won't repeat it again. However, it still remains one of my most loved Swedish Christmas customs.

There is one amusing story concerning the Nobel Prize winners and Lucia that is worth mentioning. As a surprise, each winner is woken in his hotel bed early on the morning of the prize giving ceremony by a procession consisting of Stockholm's Lucia and her attendants. They enter each prize winner's room wearing white gowns, with a red sash around their waists and Lucia herself has a crown of lingonberry leaves on her head, with seven white candles set into the foliage. They come in singing Sankta Lucia, bearing the traditional breakfast of glögg and warm saffron buns.

And by "as a surprise", I mean the prize winners were not told in advance that this would happen. Apparently, the Irish writer, Seamus Heaney, who won the literature prize in 1995 had been out on the town the night before and partaken of one or two rounds of irish whisky (purely for medicinal purposes, I believe). For some reason, he became alarmed when he was woken at sparrow's fart by a woman wearing a crown of lit candles - funny about that! It caused quite a stir and the result was that now the prize winners are told in advance that this will happen. You wouldn't want to be caught with your rollers in your hair and your night cream plastered on your face.

Today, Lucia and her attendants have been singing in various locations in Nynäshamn. Later this evening will be the big Luciatåg or parade through town, culminating in a concert at the church, celebrating the imminent return of the light over the next few weeks.

I have been reading a bit of criticism about Lucia in the Stockholm daily papers. People are expressing the view that these days the true spirit and meaning of Lucia has been lost and that the new Lucia is more a beauty contest rather than anything else. I can't comment on what happens in Stockholm as I wasn't involved in it, but here in Nynäs, the girls are nominated based on their singing abilities and community contributions and involvement. Sure, you can argue that Alexandra is a classic Nordic beauty, with her blonde hair, blue eyes and lovely healthy complexion. But that is not all there is to her - she is a warm, intelligent, well spoken and confident young woman and we are all proud to have her for our Queen of Light.



And anyway, as you can see from the above picture taken two and a half years ago that she loves Lambi (and the feeling is mutual) - that makes her a very discerning person and an ideal candidate.

Now I'm off to see the parade....

We are all still madly in love with being home in a warm, cosy apartment. Poor Lambi can't believe her luck and is a bit unsettled as she readjusts to new noises and old routines. She went completely bananas when the workmen came in around 7a.m. this morning, putting paid to any notion we may have had about a few more precious minutes of sleep. And the birds are happily flying around the apartment and stretching their wings after 5 months of being continually in their cage on the boat. And we are enjoying waking up in our own bed and luxuriating in our new bathroom.

Of course, there are one or two thorns among the petals. We have a couple of minor things we'd like fixed in the bathroom - a little of the grouting is a bit suss and I was utterly intrigued by the positioning of the heated towel rack. If you study the picture, you can see that the rail is set at quite a high level and stuck in a corner above the toilet cistern. Now, I'm not really short (165cm if you must know - that's 5ft 6in to those who don't do metric), but you need to have Lars-Göran's gibbon length arms to reach the upper level and if you hang a towel on the lower level, it drapes along the cistern.

Obviously a man designed this!

Apart from that, we have discovered that our router doesn't work anymore, we have lost the internal computer network somehow, internet only functions on one of our computers (even if we connect only via the modem) and my mobile phone went belly up yesterday morning. All of this stuff hasn't even been used in months, so how can they not function? I hope it's not going to be like Maximum Overdrive, where all the appliances and machines run amok and attack everyone. So I need to hunt up a new mobile phone urgently and we need to sort out the hardware and software problems we have. I guess my long suffering stepson (and computer expert) will be invited over for dinner very soon. *grin*

The weather has been unseasonably warm for the time of year, even though the daylight hours are getting shorter and shorter. Today sunrise was at 8:38 a.m. with sunset due at 2:46 p.m., but the sun is shining and it is +6C. I'm sorry to those who are waiting for the "winter wonderland" photos - there is absolutely no snow at the moment and none forecast in the near future.

We took advantage of the sunshine yesterday to pop into Stockholm to pick up a few things and to stroll around in the late afternoon. We started off at a computer shop in Sveavägen, with Lars-Göran leading me through a maze of backstreets to avoid the crowds. I would normally avoid the shopping districts on a weekend during the silly season, but yesterday was really relaxing and enjoyable. We wove our way across town to Gallerian to pick up a few more things on our list, wandering along the cheerfully lit up Drottninggatan, admiring the shop front windows, popping in to browse through some more interesting shops, listening to the carols and smelling the unmistakable scent of Christmas in Sweden.



We then crossed over to Nordiska Kompaniet (or NK), Stockholm's grand old department store on Hamngatan, where the windows are decorated for Christmas with amazing animated displays (much like the Myer shops in Australia). Unlike last year when we went late at night and practically had the place to ourselves, the family groups were out in force and while it restricted our photo opportunities, I loved watching the joy and wonder on the children's faces.

We did sneak a few shots of some of the windows. The first one was of a troll in his forest cave.



I couldn't get close enough to the text to see what it was supposed to be all about. I was a little confused as I'm pretty sure that my kids would have been terrified by this scene and the larger than life troll. I was hoping that the other windows were less scary and fortunately they were.

The next window featured a scene from the Tomte's barn.



The animals were all really happy and the little Christmas gnome (tomte) was bustling around feeding them. It is fascinating to look at all of the detail in each scene and the children around us were enchanted.

We then moved on to what must be a perennial favourite among children all over the world - Santa's workshop.



Things were in full swing here, with busy little gnomes getting ready for Christmas Eve. Again the detail is incredible and it was charming to hear the children calling out things like "Look mummy! A teddy bear" I joined in with a "Look at those cute poodles, daddy!" to Lars-Göran, causing one older woman to look at me as though I was a lunatic. But take a look on the second to top shelf on the right hand side of the picture. Pink poodles! Gosh, I hope tomte brings me one of those. At this stage, Lars-Göran was hoping for a large hole to open up in Hamngatan and swallow me up. Still, there's no harm in expressing a wish, is there?

More Christmas magic at the next window - waiting for tomte.



Here, a typical Swedish Christmas eve indoor scene is depicted. You have mum setting up the Christmas table (julbord), the children and pets (is that a black poodle I see?) at the window anxiously waiting for tomte to come. And poor dad is outside, dressed as tomte filling up his bag with goodies. If he is anything like my brother-in-law he is also doing last minute wrapping as well!

We couldn't get a clear shot of the next window, with a child sleeping and wishing of Christmas. However, we did capture a little of the last one, which was the gnomes relaxing on a summer's day.



I liked this one best of all! It showed a typical Swedish summer scene - leafy trees, light, sunshine, birds in the trees and a barefoot picnic in the woods. Somehow you always associate the gnomes with frantic Christmas activity in a busy workshop, so it was great to see them having a summer vacation, relaxing and enjoying life.

We then strolled along to nearby Kungsträdgården. This is the most centrally located park in Stockholm and a metting place for many people, especially in summer when the outdoor cafés are open. Today, however we were greeted by skaters. Every winter an outdoor ice rink is set up here and people hire skates and go for a turn or two across the ice. What a great scene - right in the heart of town.



I should also point out that this picture was not taken in the middle of the night, but at around 4p.m. - dark, isn't it? We were also curious to take a look at the Christmas Market set up there. We were greeted by the beautiful aroma of warm glögg, hot toffeed almonds, cinnamon, cloves and gingerbread. There was an aisle of small shops selling traditional decorations (including the hand-made wreaths I love), other stalls selling reindeer meat, smoked fish, delicacies from Jämtland, cheeses, mustards and glögg. One stall had stunning delicate hand-blown and painted glass ornaments in a rainbow of colours that were so tempting. There were also stalls selling warm winter jumpers, scarves, gloves etc and a couple of those cheap and somewhat vulgar Asian crap stalls that seem to be springing up in increasing numbers.



There were a lot of people there, but as we noted by the loud American accents surrounding us, most were foreigners visiting the city. Still, we enjoyed the smells of Christmas goodies and wandering around munching on a saffron bun.

We walked back to the train station along Strömmen, admiring the old architecture of this historic area. When we passed the opera house, I saw that the ballet Nutcracker was on again for Christmas.



I love this ballet! The Nutcracker has become a winter tradition at Stockholm's Royal Opera House over the last ten years or so. This performance combines the magic world and beautiful music of Tchaikovsky's classic ballet with the popular Swedish children's story of Petter and Lotta's Christmas Story, by Elsa Beskow.

The main characters are two orphans who live with three old women in the forest and who are enjoying Christmas Eve before being brought into the original ballet's world, meeting the King of the Rats. It really is a must-see for all lovers of ballet and classical music.

Hmm... I wonder if poodles are allowed into Operan?

I am home in my apartment at last, after an absence of several months! Although sailing around Sweden and living onboard a yacht probably seems fun and exotic to many, I can't begin to tell you the pleasure I am feeling at being in my own home again.

The mundane things are feeling wonderful.

I have been admiring my brand new, sparkling and almost completed bathroom... and having a shower there this morning was just lovely! And to pluck my towel, soft and toasty warm from the towel warmer (very decadent, I know) was a joy.



I have been eating food prepared in my own (still to be renovated) kitchen. It was a fantastic feeling to have so much space to bake, to have a fridge that did not have to be packed like a Chinese puzzle and to have my full complement of herbs and spices readily at hand.

However, the absolute BEST, is sleeping in MY OWN bed! Sleep is really important to me and I have the best pillows, the softest sheets and a luxurious matress cover. I love my bed. Sometimes in the morning on a cold weekend I can barely bring myself to get out of the thing it's so good.

The simple things, the things that you miss when you are away are the important things, I think. My home is where I truly relax.

No, the bathroom is not yet fully completed and the kitchen will not be done until late January. I'm sure I won't be quite so delighted when the builders lob here next week just before 7am each morning, but we really wanted to be home again, and especially to wake up here this morning because it is Lars-Göran's birthday.

Sure, I may say often that Lars-Göran is damn lucky to have me as his wife, but if truth be told it's me who is the lucky one. Today he celebrates his 54th birthday (that's right, 54!)



I hope you will all join me in wishing him an incredibly happy birthday. Without his love, support, guidance and strength, I just wouldn't be here. Sometimes, it seems that we take for granted the people we love the most. Those who are so important to our daily lives. It doesn’t mean we don’t care, it's just that sometimes, life gets crazy and there isn’t time to do it all, or say it all.

So, especially today, I want you to know how much I appreciate all the loving things he does. And how much I admire him for being the kind and giving person he is. Happy Birthday to the perfect husband - the one who shares my obsessions with books and cheesy puns and Led Zeppelin, to the man who makes me feel young again.

The celebrations began early yesterday evening when we were invited to dinner by some friends who live in the harbour aboard their ketch Gipsy Lady. They have lived aboard for 15 years and taken her to the Mediterranean and Black Sea, as well as extensively around Sweden. She is set up as a cosy, warm and inviting home, as you can see here:



We loaded up with some South Australian Sauvignon Blanc and headed to the harbour on a crisp, cold winter evening. It was so welcoming when we climbed aboard. Marianne had set up the salon with candle light and served a delicious feast of fresh prawns, white castello cheese (surely a cheese made in heaven) and lots of fresh, crusty bread. We spent several enjoyable hours of laughter and conversation, not to mention eating far too much, drinking many glasses of white wine and several glasses of chilled Bailey's. At midnight, Björn and Marianne sang both the Swedish and English versions of Happy Birthday to You and gave Lars-Göran an unexpected birthday gift. We staggered home at 2am and fell into bed.

As you can imagine, it took a quite some time to get going again today. He got the traditional Swedish birthday breakfast in bed with all of his presents. He looks pretty pleased with his little haul, doesn't he?



We’ve had a low key day, just savouring the joy of being home. There's been a steady stream of calls from family and tonight, a special dinner and even more wine. I hope I sober up in time to get the train into Stockholm tomorrow.

And as for what else he'll be getting later on tonight, I'll leave that to your vivid imaginations.

I'm sure you will do me proud!

I am an unashamed bread lover from way back. There is absolutely no way that I could ever stick to an eating program that advocated a no bread policy. I couldn’t even last one day and nor would I want to.

Beautiful fresh bread, straight from the oven! Is there no better aroma on earth, I ask you. And cutting through a crisp crust to the soft, warm surface below is heaven on earth. Add a little butter, some sharp, matured cheese, a slice of ripe tomato and some black pepper and I am in ecstasy.

I have very fond childhood memories of bread – those days when we were on summer holidays and we’d wait for the welcome sound of the baker’s horse - “clip-clop, clip-clop” coming up the street. We’d race out and wait for him to deliver our freshly baked loaves of Tip-Top white and brown bread and if we were lucky, mum would buy us all a finger bun for a special treat.

Bread........MMMMMMMM.......yum.......

My love affair however, does not extend to crispbread. What is called hårtbröd or knäckebröd in Sweden. Think Ryvita. Only a bit thicker and coming in shapes ranging from a Ryvita sized rectangle, up to a round slice measuring 30cm.



Unfortunately for me, eating crispbread in Sweden is considered almost a compulsory pre-requisite for citizenship. And I hate the stuff. It both looks and tastes like cardboard. I already know from the horrified look on my husband’s face that not liking hårtbröd appears a bit like Satan-worshipping must appear to strict Catholics, so I have tried to mend my ways.

But to no avail.

I simply can’t accept it as food. I’m aware that different countries have their own little culinary quirks that are often inexplicable to other parts of the world. I’ve tried to accept it as bread, to serve it with meals, but it honestly isn’t possible to enjoy buttered cardboard. Not that I haven’t actually eaten the stuff. I have been known, in desperation, to spread butter and Vegemite on a slice of Wasa knäckebröd, but even that is not as satisfying a snack as good old Sao or Vita Weats. You see, the Aussie biscuits have cool little holes all over them and when you squeeze them together, the butter and Vegemite oozes out like little worms that you lick up. “It’s all part of the experience” I tell my husband, who looks at me with pity and says “We prefer to eat our food here, rather than play with it”

And that’s when it hit me. Knäckebröd is simply NOT FUN. And I refuse to eat food that is dour and serious.

I have had negative experiences with crispbread in Australia and I think that early trauma has coloured my view of it irreparably. I try and tell Lars-Göran that the only people who eat it are those who are on diets. It is associated in my mind with humourless old maids on a regime of “going without”.

We are all familiar with that sad person in the office who is continually on some kind of new diet. She’s the one who sees me about to pop a Tic-Tac in my mouth and loudly proclaims the calorie and sugar content of a Tic-Tac to everyone in the room. And of course, those who know me will not be surprised by my response. I empty the whole box into my mouth in one go and happily crunch them up. Why do those people force me to be so naughty?

Anyway, she’s the same one who fronts up to the staff room on Mondays with a long face and sets out a spartan lunch of crispbread spread with some sloppy, unspeakable cottage cheese concoction topped by grated raw carrot, plus a glass of water. Invariably it’s a cold winter’s day and I’ve popped down the Parade for some Perryman’s pies from the Argo Deli or even a Yiros dripping with tzatziki from Sammms Greek take-away. She will look at my lunch with scorn and mutter something about me running the risk of drowning in a sea of fat and grease and gaining probably half a stone in one sitting. But