Injustice

In many ways, today was a lovely day. It is Walpurgis Eve here in Sweden, and especially in Uppsala it was a full day. I imagine I will feel inspired to write about today, but not now.

Since I am feeling stressed because I am getting behind on my Master's level "D level" English paper, Tomas and Yaminah went to Nyköping to visit Jonny, Tomas' brother. I am therefore home alone, working late in the evening as usual, listening to my new music list on Spotify, snacking, and trying to stay alert as I read a new electronic book on mysteries.

Then I remember that I should redeem the gift certificate I received from Jonny for an online bookstore, so I begin digging around the desk for it. When I say "digging," it is because right now on my desk there are stacks of cozy mysteries, a lovely glass, calculator, telephone, computer, printer, pile of paid bills...etc. In the living room a pumpkin Yankee candle is keeping my olfactory sense company.

And then suddenly, from the John Denver on the music to the pile of unsorted mail, I am struck by the sharp and unfair unjustice in the world. For several years, Tomas and I have supported a few students through "Barnhjälpen," a Christian aid organization through which people can support children with need in order to enable them to be able to go to school.

We just received a new letter from Barnhjälpen. The girl that we have been supporting for the past few years, in a city in India, has been exchanged for a 4th-grade boy. This is not the first time we have had to change children. The note says (translated here:) "Replaces Jaya H who unfortunately could not continue beyond the 4th grade. Father died and mother needed her at home."

And here I sit with my piles of books, fancy crystal glass, computer, scented candle in the background...oh, and did I mention, new iPhone?...on my messy desk. The thought brings tears to my eyes. Why are there such great differences in the world? Why can't Jaya H continue past the 4th grade? I understand that survival is certainly her family's main concern, but I also realize that this is not only an issue in her city in India. We know that there are millions of children who cannot attend school in China as well, for example. What kind of a chance does a person have when they are unable to even finish elementary school?

The injustice of it all makes me sad, and angry as well. But it also makes me wish that all of the spoiled kids in our countries (in the west) who take their education for granted would be able to catch of a glimpse of the privilege they have. Even if University education in the United States is expensive whereas in Sweden it is free (but taxes very high), at least in these countries education is free through high school. This is certainly something that people take for granted.

Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah" is now on, caught up to me on my new playlist. Ironic indeed.

"Replaces Jaya H who unfortunately could not continue beyond the 4th grade. Father died and mother needed her at home."

Happy Birthday...Hurrah

It's that time of the year again...for another birthday. But I am  not one who dislikes birthdays. On the contrary, perhaps I am a bit Chevy Chase Christmas Vacation-esque in the way I like to prepare for these occasions. (And Tomas' polite "don't you think you might be going a little over the top?" didn't worry me one bit; one only has a birthday once a year, after all!) I do think that birthdays are important--in my opinion, birthdays are a celebration of another year of life.

Yaminah, two years old, has been very excited about my birthday as well. For days she kept pointing at Tomas' closet, saying "Daddy secrets!" and when the big day arrived, she broke into "Happy Birthday" several times, and other times she just looked at me and said, "Hurrah."

First of all, I know that in many families with young children, people say "No more presents! Just for the children!" but in our family, we all love giving and receiving gifts and we have no plans of stopping. Well, perhaps I should replace "we all" with "certainly I..."  And I admit that whenever anyone asks, I usually (okay, always) have a wish list underway just in case someone needs it.

Of course, getting older is not what I like about birthdays (except that one can hardly deny that one keeps getting a little bit better each year; am I right? :) Well, at least some aspects of life keep getting better. Through my studies I have learned more this year, which is nice. A lot has happened within our family too, with Yaminah growing up more each day. But I did catch myself thinking, as I baked herb bread for my birthday party (don't look for a recipe however; that fancy bread is now safely in the compost after presumably failing with the yeast) something along the lines of "Wow, I must be getting older because I am so out of shape kneading this dough!" As I kneaded, and kneaded...and like I said, to no avail, since I am pretty sure I had killed the yeast right away. But then I paused for a moment in my hard labor and reflected upon the fact that I cannot actually recall when I last baked bread at all. Bread-baking has never been my forté (I am more of a cookie/muffins/cupcakes kind of person). So then I felt a little better and just realized that my lack of bread-baking skills has nothing to do with age.

As I prepared for the party, I thought back to previous birthdays and was alarmed by how few I can actually even remember. Of course, up until a certain age one can blame one's parents. But who can one blame after the age of 16? How is it possible that I have forgotten how I celebrated so many birthdays? Ahem, I mean...not that there have been so unbelievably many birthdays since 16... In any case, I think I need to start keeping a fun book of records. Only because it is fun of course; nothing to do with an advancing age.

This year I have actually been feeling nearly overwhelmed with my studies and realized that throwing any kind of a party at all would be a real challenge. But what else is night for, if not cleaning, planning, and baking? So I decided to invite a group of friends (sans children). What should my theme be, I wondered? Finding cute flowered napkins answered that question. The theme would be pink and red. I told Tomas and I am sure he was quite interested, especially when the day before the party he was going to Stockholm for a class trip for the day and I requested he look for pink and red flowers, and I asked if he wanted to bring a napkin with him to aid in his search. I might have received a strange look when he politely declined and thought he could manage without the napkin.

After cramming in studies and a flurry of activity (most of it very late in the evening when the little girl was sleeping), it was ready. We were nine people total who enjoyed a fun evening of conversation and laughter, and I must say, the menu turned out to be quite good as well. I managed a second batch of bread that turned out this time. And the recipe called for minimal kneading so no problem that my arms may or may not be a little out of shape, no matter what my current age might be.

Chocolate cake with raspberry mousse

The menu (which I realize is mainly appetizers and dessert--but these are my two favorite courses so I figured, why not?)

Welcome drink (nonalcoholic):
Apple Sparkler Drink

First:
Toast Skagen
Salad with fresh strawberries, walnuts, and parmesan

Second:
Jerusalem Artichoke Soup served with homemade herb breadsticks and shredded cheddar cheese


Dessert(s):
Delicious Chocolate Cake with Raspberry Mousse
Peanut Blossoms cookies (for which I now use Natural Peanut Butter for added flavor)
Thumbprint cookies with homemade raspberry curd Homemade raspberry curd cookies (only in Swedish right now)
Brie cheese with pears

Apple Sparkler Drink

Herb breadsticks (recipe from Betty Crocker),
served in beer glasses from Fitger's in Duluth, MN

Peanut Blossoms

For decorations, I snipped a few of the gorgeous tulips Tomas brought home and put into baby food jars with pussy willow branches.

Our Easter, Swedish traditions, & tasty sweets

Today is Easter Saturday or "påskafton", which is when most Swedes celebrate Easter. (Swedes almost always celebrate holidays on the eve of the holiday, such as for Midsummer's and Christmas).
We are happy to have my mom here for Easter this year, and my grandfather, 92 years old, also lives in Dala-Järna, where we have our house, so along with Tomas's family here, we had lots of time for family.

Morfar, 92 years old, on Good Friday

For Good Friday we all went to church for services; "Easter Eve", today, we celebrated by having a morning coffee or "fika" at our little house for Mom and Tomas's family. For the fika I made Easter cupcakes from a recipe my beautiful new cupcake cookbook by Leila Lindholm. They are almost sinfully delicious, with freshly-ground hazelnuts, Nutella, cream cheese, and a bird's nest of marzipan, topped with tiny chocolate eggs. (Recipe here http://lifeandacupoftea.blogspot.se/p/favorite-recipes.html which is under tab "Recipes").

Easter cupcake

This afternoon we dressed Yaminah up, according to Swedish tradition, as a "påskkärring", or Easter witch. We went around to a few houses where Yaminah knocked on the door and gave the family a hand-drawn Easter card, and was very surprised and excited to receive some chocolate or fruit in return to put into her little pail.

Yaminah is our little "påskkärring"

For those of you who can read Swedish, here is a short, but interesting article about how the tradition of the påskkärring may have come about. http://www.vf.se/node/8915 and here the Swedish newspaper in English, the Local, writes about modern Sweden's Easter traditions as well: http://www.thelocal.se/3525/20110421/ Time Magazine even has a special article about strange Easter traditions, and the Swedish "påskkärring" or Easter witch tradition is presented. Some say that the tradition of påskkärringar is actually from a very dark time in Sweden's history, when people were terrified for witches and they were even burned. Now people think of påskkärringar as cute little girls and boys who visit people's homes, deliver an Easter greeting, and probably receive a few coins or candy in return. This reminds me a little of Halloween traditions at home in the States. http://www.time.com/time/specials/packages/article/0,28804,1889922_1890008_1889927,00.html

With a Master's in Ethnology, of course I can't help but feel fascinated by different cultures and the way they celebrate their traditional holidays. The most important thing is to be together, and spend time as a family. Many Swedes go skiing in the mountains for Easter. But Easter is especially interesting because it is a mixture of a Christian holiday--with beautiful church services all around the country, from all of the lovely, melancholy Good Friday music to joyful and uplifting Easter Sunday hymns--to cute little Easter witches with a dark history that spans hundreds of years.

Although I am interested in celebration of holidays, as a Christian I think the weekend has a greater, deeper meaning, one that has a real potential for joy and hope, even in today's world. Although I was unable to take a picture, you can imagine the simple cross of greens, embedded with red roses, that was an altar decoration at the Good Friday service yesterday. And although the colorful Easter eggs that Yaminah and her grandma painted together are pretty, I think the altar decoration simply, and cleanly, symbolizes the pure beauty of the meaning of Easter.

Yaminah and her grandma painting Easter eggs

Happy Easter!

Letters & laughter: One year after Grandma

One year ago tomorrow became Grandma's last day on Earth, after 101.5 years. Thinking about this makes me mad actually. Even starting to write this makes me mad. But it also makes me sad. Sad, mad, sad, mad... these are of course natural feelings that people have when they lose someone who was close to them. But tonight I am not going to attempt to write an article on grief. Rather, I just want to sit and write a rambling letter as scattered as my own thoughts appear in my mind.

One year has passed without Grandma. This thought makes me mostly sad. Several times during the year I have caught myself thinking of wanting to do something for Grandma. I caught myself looking forward to sending our Christmas card to Grandma; same thing happened last Mother's Day, now Easter... I loved sending cards and letters to Grandma--probably because she was the one person who I knew truly appreciated it. That made it so much more fun. I actually did not know this, but she has probably kept every card and letter we have ever sent her in a box. Going through all of them after the funeral, it was a trip down memory lane for me as well. Cards and letters were a way to keep in touch with Grandma, even though I have been living in Sweden and China for the past 12 years. Of course we called as well sometimes, but cards felt more special. Grandma herself was a master of letters and correspondence in general. Even when she was nearly blind, she kept writing letters to people including in Sweden, in Swedish, a language she could write in although I am not sure how she did it.

The thing is, right now what I wish more than anything is that I could write another letter to Grandma. It would start like this, "Dear Grandma, we haven't talked for a whole year now and there is so much I want to tell you!" and then, first, I would tell her all about Yaminah, because she absolutely loved hearing about her and loved hearing all of the funny stories we would share. Then she would laugh and laugh.

But since I cannot write another letter to Grandma, and since I am getting tired of feeling mad that she died, I think it would be better to think back to her life. In reality, this could instead be a letter to Yaminah. If I had chosen to write a letter to Yaminah, it could begin like: "Dear Yaminah, do you want to hear again about your name? Yaminah Hildur Elisabeth...let me tell you about your Great Grandma Hildur. We talk about her every time you light a candle for her in church, but now I want to tell you what she was really like."

Then I would write about all kinds of random memories that pop up, like about the time when I was perhaps in high school (I am not the one with the good memory here; sorry folks--Grandma had the best memory!) and we were all sitting together for a nice dinner (can't remember the occasion; sorry--see my point?) Anyways, it was a nice dinner and I remember that I was trying to be nice and help Grandma, so I offered to get the gravy and pour it over her food for her, which I did. A little later Mom asked something like "Where is the butterscotch pudding?" and it turns out, that is what I had poured all over Grandma's nice dinner... and if my memory serves me right, all she said was "I thought it was a little sweet!" and then she laughed and laughed.

But most of my memories of Grandma and actually not so easy to put a finger on. They are more a long movie, with some individual scenes, but mainly the movie just keeps playing in my mind of all kinds of images. Playing outside at Grandma's old house when I was a kid; Grandma's delicious homemade cinnamon toast (have never tasted better); watching sports and Golden Girls at Grandma's; Grandma staying up way too late to sit up and visit with us when we came; Grandma's laughter when all of the people around her, Floyd & Marge, grandkids, other people... would tell stories... she never tired of visiting with people.

Always witty, you never could be sure of what Grandma's response would be. Right around the time of the China earthquake in 2008, just before I think, Grandma was very sick and in the hospital after a fall. Feeling emotional, I remember I called her from China. I said something like "I am just calling to say Happy Mother's Day, Grandma!" to which immediately responded, "I wish I could say the same to you!"

And in fact, when the time did (finally, she could say...) come for Tomas and I to have a baby, I called to tell her the news. I said something like "You're going to become a great grandmother!" to which she sort of mumbled, "It's about time!"

I will forever be grateful for the time that Yaminah and Grandma had. Grandma loved watching Yaminah sit, then crawl, then run; she thought it was hilarious to watch. (Here are a few moments on video). Grandma thought it was great that Yaminah used the potty when she was only a few months old, and I think on the third visit to Grandma with Yaminah, I had understood the hints about her clothes. Then Grandma said, "NOW you look like a girl!" when I finally dressed her in a very flowery summer dress.

I wish I could remember some of the great stories Grandma told us all about when she was young. Since she lived over a century and had such a great memory, everyone around her was able to experience her experiences through her stories. She told us about hearing the bells when World War I ended, and she ran out into the street. Luckily for everyone, she has summarized her life history in a document that we have, but can a life be summed up in just a few pages? No, but family history and details are documented.

I am afraid that if I would have been able to write a letter to Grandma, that it would have been very, very long. And if this would have been a letter to Yaminah, it would have been even longer. For how can one describe someone through a piece of paper?

Recently I have been thinking about the importance of memories, people, and time. Ten, fifty, two hundred years from now, will any of this matter? Is it important to remember our loved ones, the ones who have gone before us? Because one generation later, will they continue to be remembered? Of course some people will be documented in history more than others; some people will hold public office, will make great contributions to society that will enable them to be remembered, etc. Grandma did not make any gigantic contributions to society in the sense that the history books would require. She was a great lady, one that deserves to be remembered. But after thinking about this for quite a while, I do of course think that we should remember individuals in the past as much as we can. We all want to be remembered. But I think the most important thing is that we are who we are because of the individuals who have touched us in our past. We become changed, formed, from those who have touched us. And we will continue to influence all the others that we meet, whether they be our own kids, or our colleagues, strangers on the street...

If I would have been writing a letter now the old-fashioned way, like Grandma would have done it, my hand would have been cramping long ago and if it were Grandma who would have written, she would have ended with "I hope you can read this chicken scratching!"

So I think I won't write a letter after all. I think I will just take another stroll down memory lane.

Finally spring! Easter, and decorating ideas

Spring is finally here!
Living in a country that is as dark as Sweden is in the winter, I think the arrival of spring--and light--is even more welcome here. And every year when spring comes I begin to look forward to Easter.

I love Easter! Ever since I was a kid and remember making a pact with my best friend, Kacey, to give something delicious up for Lent (notice the word trying)...Easter has always been an important time. For many people in Sweden these days, Easter means family time; many try to spend a week on the ski slopes. (Schools through high school have a week's Easter vacation). In the latest issue of a recipe magazine from our grocery store chain, Coop, there was an article about Easter with recipes. Loosly translated, the article, with an interview with Jonas Engman from Nordiska museet, says "Today Easter is more associated with food than religion....[For Easter] we eat a lot of extra things we normally do not eat. Now that religion has come to play a much smaller role, food is important for our holidays." (Coop's Mer smak tidning nr 3 2012). The article also mentions little tidbits about why certain foods are traditionally eaten for Easter, such as eggs; it also describes some religious history behind the holiday. Personally, I think this little article says a lot about Swedish society. Food is becoming even more important, since people need to create meaning surrounding a holiday that previously had a deeper meaning. What does this say about society as a whole? Or is this also a direct result of consumerism, more advertising from stores and people being more willing and able to spend more on occasions such as Easter food?

Personally, I want to make sure that Easter is an important time for our family. I also hope to enjoy some extra-special food, but it is also important to remember the reason behind the season.

In order to get ready for Easter, I have prepared a few Easter decorations that I thought I would share with you. We will color Easter eggs closer to Easter and do a few other things, but for now, I have worked on displaying my Easter egg collection. (On our travels, I have not been able to resist buying different kinds of lovely eggs, so now I have one small white plate with my dark eggs from Malaysia, one pot of eggs from Germany, etc...Along with teapots, eggs are something I love to collect...)

I frequently find that decorations that are to be hung, like bulbs at Christmastime, can actually become even more lovely if they are displayed in a group. Here I made a simple centerpiece for the table, using a glass cake stand, for displaying these glass eggs from the US.

I also wanted Yaminah to be involved in decorating, so she helped make a traditional Swedish Easter decoration. This is an old milk jug I found at a second-hand store, which I filled with branches and decorated with colorful (faux) leaves and my small German Easter eggs.

The final result is almost a little over the top, but Yaminah loved it. I also think it is bright and cheerful, almost like a little Easter tree. :) Large pots with branches and feathers are all over town now as well, as decorations outside of little shops.

There are a few weeks to go until Easter, so for now...Happy Spring!

What's your favorite day of the week?

What is your favorite day of the week?

Posing that question to myself, I couldn't help but think of a great scene from Seinfeld. 1-minute Seinfeld clip

In Sweden, people are crazy for Friday nights. Although I think most people love Friday nights, here in Sweden it seems the television channels and snack companies have paired together to create "Fredagsmys", which means "Friday night cozy." I have read some articles about the importance of this evening in Sweden, where an Ethnologist described Friday evening cozy family time as a modern ritual, marking the time between a work week and the weekend. http://www.aftonbladet.se/matvin/article11864648.ab (Article in Swedish). Lots of our friends tell us that the family plans ahead for Friday evenings, to spend together usually watching TV and eating snacks together. I think the key, however, is sitting down together to family time (although like I said, I do tend to wonder if the TV and snacks companies' advertising has greatly influenced this modern ritual...)

I think the idea of a relaxing evening at home sounds great. However, today I realized that I really want Sundays to be our family days. Too often we have things we have to do on Sundays, just like every day, whether Tomas has to correct papers or I am behind on homework due to illness. But we have started to get into a good routine on Sundays and today we decided to try to make Sundays even better. After relaxing in the morning at home together (well, except for the inevitable rush around to try to beat the clock when we are heading out the door, a lot on my part), first we go to church together. Yaminah has started to love Sunday School, so she goes to that (so far with Tomas but we hope she can go by herself when she is a little older). Our church has a gymnasium, so after church, "fika" (coffee and sandwiches & cookies), Yaminah runs around in the gym for a while until she is tired. Then we load her up in the stroller and walk into town. Today the sky was a bright blue, the sun was warm, and lots of people were out walking in the afternoon. Then while Yaminah takes her nap in her stroller, Tomas and I enjoy a lunch out in a restaurant. Today we tried Basilika--pasta & pizza. Yum!

I hope that we can expand our Sunday routine a bit more in the future, however, to also include going home and either walking together outside, or going to the playground, or a picnic in the park... I have decided that we should prepare a dessert in the morning. That way, when we return home from our lunch, "fika" is ready; all we have to do is brew a pot of tea.

It is so easy to get caught up in rushing around every single day of the week, and to be overwhelmed by stress. We have these problems too--a week begins and ends, another begins and ends--time flies and before we know it, we have just gone through the motions and hardly spent any quality time together at all. Now I want to reserve Sundays, at least from morning to afternoon, for family time, without working, or studying; for reflection and the indulging of sweets. :)

What is your family's favorite day? What "rituals" do you keep?

Whatever day of the week is your favorite, I hope that it will include some time set aside for family. Wishing you and your family a good week!

All's well that ends well--i.e., a normal Sunday with a two-year-old

All's well that ends well.

It feels great to think that to myself now, with the house mostly picked up again and relaxing alone on Sunday evening, with my little angel sleeping peacefully in her bed.

Yet another day has passed, another day in the life of raising a wonderful, adorable, strong-willed, and oh-so-stubborn (good thing she gets something from her father) two-year-old. As I cast a satisifed glance around my orderly living room, I inhale the grapefruit scent of my candle and then remember the day as it was.

This morning, being Sunday, we had planned to go to church. We haven't been able to go for several weeks in a row due to all of Yaminah's colds/fevers/general health problems. So today she was looking forward to going and I had placed her outfit for the day so her dad could easily get her dressed before church (he always dresses her since I seem to need all the time I can to get myself dressed. Plus, this week she has started saying "No, Mommy. Daddy do it!" for most such tasks). This was to be the first time Yaminah wore her new clothes, her adorable new clothes that I finally managed to find on closeout sale from my dream clothing store, Danish brand Noa Noa. As a student, the only way I could afford these dreamy clothes was for them to be on sale big-time. Recently when they were 70 % off, I finally bought three items for Yaminah. And the last time we nearly went to church, about a month ago, Yaminah had wanted to wear them, until we discovered she had a fever and we had to stay home that day too. So today, with great anticipation on my part, Tomas got her dressed. All was well for a few moments, until she decided she wanted to change into her Pippi Longstocking dress. Background information: Yaminah loves everything to do with Swedish cartoon figure Pippi Longstocking right now, and we have bought her several t-shirts and such. These are fine for daycare and day-to-day wear, but once in a while, I like to indulge my adorable-daughter fantasy. You know the one: it is when Yaminah and I are running in a wildflower meadow, holding hands, or the one where Yaminah and I are on a tropical beach, in matching straw hats, picking seashells. Now, Tomas has pointed out that I have a tendency to get my hopes up a lot in life, and sometimes reality is a bit different.

How different? Once Yaminah was dressed in her lovely dress and hand-stitched handwash only wool sweater from Noa Noa, she promptly threw herself down to the ground and in full-down meltdown crisis mode, with tears, mucous, screaming, writhing--the works. But then the clock started ticking so I had to jump into the shower anyways. "It's Sunday, it's okay, relax, showers are relaxing..." I kept repeating to myself, as I turned up the water pressure to max and tried to lather in a relaxing body wash, to ignore Yaminah's screams outside the bathroom door. Relax, relax...

After a difficult struggle of calming the two-year-old, cleaning her up and packing all kinds of bags, backpack, snacks, outerwear, etc, to bring with us to church (one would think we were moving every time we attempt to go anywhere!), we dashed out the door and made it. We were even five minutes early. Yaminah was back to her happy self again then, and we actually held hands walking into the church. In her lovely dress and my skirt, holding hands, for just a few moments my perfect angel fantasy was not far off.

Yaminah did great in church. She listened, went to Sunday school with Tomas, ate three hot dogs afterwards, and played in the gym. Then we walked into town and enjoyed a lunch out at a restaurant while she slept peacefully in her stroller. After church we returned home and my friend, Maria, came over for a tea party and playtime with her two daughters. The girls had a great time together. Here they are enjoying raisins, orange slices, chocolate chip cookies, pretend cupcakes, and tea.

After they all left and Yaminah adorably kissed the girls goodbye, we were back to exhausted-meltdown mode, brought on by me saying it was time for supper (which she had just previously said she wanted). After doing everything I could to coaxe her to the table, including trying to gently drag her to her chair, I gave in. I brought her little table and chair into the living room, dried her tears, and let her eat supper in front of her beloved Pippi movie. Not a Mother-of-the-Year choice, I know, but she ate all of her supper, and we both sat and ate in peace.

Then after a 45-minute bath, potty time, bedtime routine, evening prayers, potty again, back to bed, and a sliced pear in bed for a last-minute snack later...here we are. Mommy is relaxing in alone with my uplifting grapefruit candle for company. Tomorrow is Monday--but one day at a time with a two-year-old.

I'm home... ? Thoughts on "home"

After a long day of studying, cleaning, class, and a train ride, I am finally home. As always, it feels great to come inside from the cold, and make a roaring fire to enjoy as I sit in kitchen with a cup of chai tea. It's good to be home!

But as I caught myself thinking that it is nice to be home, I am once again reminded of the question: What is "home"?  What makes a place a home? Can a person have many homes? Does a home have to be a physical building?

Tomas and I have this little house in the middle of nowhere really, in a tiny village called Hulån, which is in Dala-Järna (slightly larger village) in the province of Dalarna, in Sweden. We love our little house, even though it is probably not especially charming from the outside! But perhaps we like it so much because it is ours; the sense of ownership, both physical and metaphorical, is perhaps what draws us to it. Or perhaps it is the fact that we feel "at home" in these surroundings, in the colors and decor that we have chosen, in the house that we bought cheaply and fixed up all by ourselves. Or does it feel like home since we have spent time here? Or is it that our relatives are just a short distance away?

Our little house in Hulån, Dalarna

But I am American, from a tiny village in Minnesota. That is "home", really. I always say, "We are going home this summer" and I mean, of course, to MN. Minnesota is where I spent 21 years of my life, and it will always be "home" for me as well. I am sure this will never change. I feel at home there in a way that I cannot even describe; I just feel it. I think a major part of feeling at home is certainly feeling at ease and welcome in one's culture.

But we also feel at home in our apartment in Uppsala, in the lovely city where we have lived since we got married (except for the time in China). Uppsala is definitely my Swedish home city. Yaminah even calls our gorgeous Cathedral, Scandinavia's largest, "Mommy's church." :) I think she has picked up on the fact that I feel at home in the church whenever my choir sings there.

Uppsala Domkyrka, Uppsala Cathedral, seen from one of my favorite views of Uppsala

To feel "at home" in one's current house, city, or childhood town seems, however, understandable. But the thing is, when we lived in China, we felt at home there as well! When we moved from northern China after two years, to southern China, the first thing we did was find a flower shop (not always easy) and fill the apartment with green plants, and decorate to make it cozy. Our Chinese students often said later that it was so much fun to visit a western apartment. But then we gently pointed out, um, you are in a Chinese apartment in China, with Chinese things... :)  But they meant of course that it was fun to see what we would do with the place. All that we did was do our best to make it cozy--to make it feel like home.

"Home is where your heart is." "Home is where you hang your hat." "Honey, I'm home..." What does the word "home" make you think of? Is it to be near your relatives? Is it to feel safe? Is it to be in a place where you feel that you can be yourself, or where you can relax?

One thing is certain. To be in the position that I am in, to be able to feel "at home" here, and even in many different places, is certainly to be blessed, and to be privileged. Although I often miss my family who are far away in the States, at least we can keep in touch, and know that we are all okay. There are certainly far too many people in this world today who do not have a place they call "home." Perhaps they are homeless people in our own societies, in the US and Sweden. Or perhaps they are people who live in impoverished conditions or a country torn apart by war. Or perhaps they are people who have a home--but who cannot feel "at home" there anyways, no matter how beautiful it might appear from the outside, because of a feeling of emptiness inside, or even worse: of violence in the home.

My tea has cooled as I have written this; it is time for more, and the fire needs another log. Then my warm, cozy bed awaits me. Yes, it is truly good to be home, but perhaps it would be even better to say, it is blessed to be home.

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A surprise birthday party!

In the dead of winter, it is easy to feel uninspired, no matter how busy a person actually is. At least, that was the case for me. When I then realized that my cousin, Ulrika, was about to have a birthday, and that she is in Uppsala, hours away from her family...the plan formed. We should host a birthday party for her--she is turning 30 after all--but we should make it a surprise!

Tomas was supportive of the idea, although he did wonder if I had time for it. No, probably not...but sometimes a little perking up is in order. I love to have parties, and to make it a surprise would be a fun challenge.

Setting the table the morning of the party. Candy sprinkle confetti was added just before the party, so we wouldn't eat it all ahead of time... 

First, I contacted Ulrika's husband and asked him to get her class schedule so that we could find a date. Then I contacted Ulrika's circle of friends and we all started sending messages to each other. Once a date and time were established, I started planning the fun details, like the menu and decorating. (See menu, below). The day of the party I studied while I prepared the food, in advance, and decorated. Decorations were simple, but I was quite pleased with the result. Since we have a two-year-old, I wanted decorations to be safe as well, so I bought a container of candy heart confetti (and the pink color comes from beets). First I covered the table in a dark patterned tablecloth from Yunnan, China, and then sprinkled it generously with pink candy hearts. For all courses we brought out different dishes, for fun and variation. The only other decoration we bought was Tomas bought one bunch of 10 tulips. I trimmed them down and put them in cleaned baby food jars that I have saved, with a little ribbon around the top for fun. These make a very nice table; they are a good height so they don't interfere with conversation, and they are inexpensive since you only need to buy one bunch of flowers!


Since I am also studying and both busy and not making any income, we needed to make the party festive, but not super pricey. It all turned out great! We finally invited Ulrika who thought she was just coming over for tea, but in reality, her other friends were here, ready to celebrate her birthday. It ended up being a hit! We all talked and laughed until much too late at night; we all ate way too much; and the evening was over much too quickly!

Menu
Appetizer: Jerusalem Artichoke Soup with cousin Helene's homemade organic bread and two kinds of cheese

Main course: Two kinds of quiches: Mushroom and broccoli quiche and smoked salmon quiche, served with mixed green salad with pears

Dessert: Tea and coffee served with generous pieces of carrot cake, served on white plates with candy sprinkles and topped with a heart-shaped piece of Swedish chocolate. Bonus: a plate of chocolate chip walnut cookies for the table.

It's been one of those days...

With a sick daughter (pneumonia and an ear infection at the same time), sometimes parenting is just a little trying. This is a great little article on this very topic. Sometimes it's okay to not enjoy every moment of our little children's lives, even if time goes by so quickly. :)

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glennon-melton/dont-carpe-diem_b_1206346.html