Monthly Archives: July 2009

Oh happy weekend

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It’s my day people!!!

 Not to brag or anything, but …

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If you’ve read this here blog for any amount of time, you know the answer to this question is yes, yes I have.  We, actually.  My mum and I; and since it was her co-workers who drew attention to the fact that is was, indeed, our day, I let her do the honors.  I played the role of paparazzi.  [which, now would probably be a good time to mention the pics were not the best.  I've been back a week - is it too late to blame jet lag?!]

After the washing-of-the-hands and putting-of-the-hat ceremony, she received her pie-throwing instruction …

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Here would be the pupil in action (In all fairness, I was fiddling with the the controls on my camera, trying to find the indoor setting, when I realized she was mid-throw.  I nearly broke my neck trying to get the shot.  That’s just how dedicated I am.) …

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Here is her impersonation of the evil-pie-thrower-troll.  She insists she was just intent on the instruction, but I think we all know the truth …

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She was, however, a quick study.  Look!  She can carry on a conversation AND dress a pie …

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The end product:  olive oil, smoked gouda cheese – which was so, so gooda (sorry, it couldn’t be helped), ham, wee bit of roasted garlic, zucchini, black olives, ‘shrooms, one jalepeneo smack dab in the middle, and a sprinkling of Mrs. Dash. 

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Topped with fresh tomats, I might add - proper placement of which was very serious business.  Obviously … 

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It was so tasty, it actually brought a tear to my eye.  Pretty sure.  

If you live in or near Boise – good news – you too can have your own day.  The thrill!  The EXCITEMENT!  I know.   Check their website for your name (or group on Wednesdays).   If you don’t live in or near Boise, sorry about your luck.  Thankfully, you just never know what the future holds.  And one must always have something to aspire to …

Home

I’m home, by the way.  Landed safe – and at least somewhat sound – late Wednesday night.   

Our long road home began with a ride to the bus station at 2:25 a.m. Swedish time.  Our taxi driver asked where we were from.  Idaho, we told him.  He shook his head and shrugged.  We laughed and told him he wasn’t alone – there are people in the United States who do not even know where Idaho is located.  He asked if it was out East.  No, we replied, WestThe wild, wild West.  He nodded and laughed.  We asked where he was from.  Iran, he said.  Do you like Sweden?  We asked.  No, he replied.  So you plan to go back somedayYes, he said, he hoped to … he paused, shook his head, shrugged … but he doesn’t know. 

I’ve thought a lot about that taxi driver in the last few days.  He opened my eyes to just how lucky I am.  Despite the flights, the layovers, the annoying flight attendant, the rude TSA agents, the dirty airports, the hoardes of people, the exhaustion, and the sadness, I was coming home.  I was coming home to family and friends – to my house, my garden, my kits – to a peaceful existance. 

And yes, I realize that human nature dictates there will always be the haves and the have nots.  There will always be those who take advantage of the weak and disadvantaged – and those who must fight to subdue them.  But it will not stop me from hoping – and praying – for that elusive world peace.  After all, everyone deserves the right to come home …

The party’s over …

Today will be our last hooray.  We plan to spend the day downtown, strolling about, shopping, sipping kaffe, and trying to forget what lies before us…

The last time we saw my brother and sister-in-law, you see, was three-and-a-half years ago.  A mighty long time for someone you love.  I knew before we ever arrived that my mum would have a hard time saying goodbye.  After all, she would be leaving her baby and first and only grandbaby behind.  But I wasn’t quite prepared for it being so difficult for me.  There have been several times in the last couple weeks that I’ve had to avert my eyes … go in the other room … otherwise excuse myself, lest the tears fall.

Tomorrow morning will not be pretty.

So here’s my wish for you, dear reader:  when you have the luxury of being near those you love, enjoy them.  Hug them, kiss them, tell them you love them.  Laugh, and dance, and sing – and make goofballs of  yourselves.  Relive the good times of the past, and make new memories for the future.  Make the most of each and every moment – both big and small.

Perhaps the quote on the top of the Jones Soda candy can (courtesy of Michelle, from Centerville) says it best:  Until further notice … celebrate everything!

The forest for the trees …

Örebro is the sixth largest city in Sweden.  A University city, it’s vibrant and full of life.  There are peoples of all nationalities.  There is architecture to admire, shops to shop, cafes in which to sit back and watch the world go by.  There is also the beauty of the forest.

Behind my brother and sister-in-law’s neighborhood lies a wee bit of forest surrounded by a paved path.  Reminds me of something Pecos Bill might have lassoed from the top of a mountain and plopped down in the middle of a city, simply for others to enjoy.  And so we did.  On our first day here, we were so excited for a break in the rain, we headed for the forsest path.  Until the diluge returned, it was quite lovely …

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The only problem was the fact that the rain brought out the slimy slugs.  As I was admiring the beauty around me, I heard my mom yell my name.  I stopped, looked down, and below my looming foot was this …

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A slug the size of Texas.  I EEK(!)-ed, jumped back, danced a little jig … and then waltzed back over to take a picture.  No need to thank me.  It’s just the kind of dedicated blogger that I am.

We also took a short drive to a lake.  There was not another soul in our little patch of the woods.  Just us, the water, the trees, the mossy rocks, and wildflowers.  We discovered some gold of the forest – or yellow ‘shrooms – took a swim or two, roasted ourselves some hot dogs, made banana boats, and, of course, sipped our java.

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Surrounded by family and friends, and the beauty of the forest, I had a hard time fathoming how one could believe our world little more than cosmic happenstance.  From where I sat – on the stump of a tree – I saw the brushstroke of the Master all around …