I brought a sandwich to work in a refrigerated bag with an ice clamp just to make sure my cheese would stay fresh.
Did I forget I live in Stockholm and it’s the end of October?
Did I forget that the office I’m working in is currently 9c (50f) each day?
Refrigerated bag – What was I thinking? You know, I had to buy that bag in Texas because other than maybe 1 month out of the year, this entire country is a refrigerator!
I think I’ll bring some ice cream to work tomorrow.
I finally broke down and starting showing my kids the other Star Wars movies. I’ve kept it down to the 3 originals, but have realized that they need to see the others to keep up with the kids at school. Tonight we watched the second in the series, “Attack of the Clones.” Comments:
“Why do they put flaming lightposts everywhere? That’s dangerous for drivers.”
“That Octopus Jedi is my favorite. Octo-go! Octo-go!”
(and commenting after I explain who the young Boba Fett is…)
“You know he’s bad because he tried to kill John Solo.”
It’s Han Solo.
“That’s right! John Solo is great!”
The King of Sweden’s 1999 Volvo is for sale. I’d make a bid, but there’s way too much carpet and that would never work with young kids. “Don’t you spill that milkshake! That’s Royal carpeting! I’m going to tell the King on you!”
I do like the “Armoured” part. I wonder if you bought the car and really cleaned it out, would you find a few french fries shoved under the seat?
In Sweden, every day has a name attached to it. Why is this? I really don’t have time to Google it, I gotta pick up my kids in 20 minutes.
Anyway, when the day with your name comes up on the calendar, people here congratulate you on your namesday and you might get a little cake or treat.
When I first found out about this, I was in at the word “cake.” Then to my disappointment, I remembered that “Heather” was not a Swedish name and there was no Heather Day in the calendar.
I did the only thing I could do – I picked another female “H” name to celebrate. (Not an easy task.) And that name is….. “Hedvig!”
So every October 15, please refer to me as Hedvig. I’m not missing out on my cake.
My oldest son had his 10th birthday this week. I told him he could have anything he wanted for dinner, so he chose – Blood Pudding.
Blood Pudding? You know, an American kid would have chosen an Oreo pie covered in ice cream. Blood pudding?
In my 14 years in Sweden, I had managed to avoid blood pudding. But it was my son’s birthday wish, so yes, I ate the blood pudding.
Verdict – … interesting.