Walking to school in Sweden was a dangerous activity. In the winter there were the blizzard and frozen nostril hairs to worry about. In summer and autumn there were the moose. I remember moose bulls to be unpredictable at the best of times, all legs and horns and not enough common sense. During breeding season … Continue reading Moose
When people first meet me, they are often disappointed. ‘But you’re Swedish!’ they’ll protest ‘You’re supposed to be tall.’ As a kind of consolation prize, they’ll mutter: ‘At least you’re blonde.’ I’m not really blonde. My hair is a dirty beige, which goes a bit lighter at the ends. These days I will occasionally slathered … Continue reading Non Blondes
The UK is a place of optimistic resilience. Brits are able to endure hardship with enviable cheerfulness and never is this better demonstrated than on the various forms of their public transport. Like many British commuters, I rely on a service that attempts to pack half the population of the west into an hourly relic … Continue reading Optimistic resilience
Swedes like to mix their hospitality with strict rules. Official dinners, such as one that we were lucky to attend recently, can be a good example of this. On arrival, we were treated to a lovely welcome drink, then left to queue for an eternity to be ticked off the appropriate guest list. This set … Continue reading Rules of hospitality
‘It’s spring, you should make a list of all the things you want to achieve this year!’ my husband proclaimed last night, before launching into a tirade on objectives and outcomes and measurements. ‘It’d be nice to be a bit more toned…’ I tried, which only served to unleash another torrent of mania, with husband … Continue reading Lists
As of last Friday, we have a new home. The house that we have just bought is a very English Victorian terrace, with a small garden and the archetypal lack of practical plumbing. There are some vague plans to ‘improve’ it, which mostly involves us knocking apprehensively on walls and plucking at the edges of … Continue reading White
I was a late bloomer. As I hit my teens, my friends in Sweden shot up around me in a blur of leggy, blonde confidence. I remained close to the ground, a frumpy, mousy-haired introvert, acquiring nicknames like ‘Yoda’ and ‘Smurf’. When my family moved to England I remained dowdy and shy, but I gained … Continue reading Mutiny and Fashion
