Like the forgotten white paint in a dimly lit hallway is the overcast sky in January. If I look hard, I can see pale pink shading etched here and there across the texture less clouds.
The snow on the ground lightens the view of dark, bare trees and old brick buildings, but my spirit longs to blow a spark to flame, to turn the tone from cool to warm. This longing is only for my heart as my eyes settle happily on high contrast with low punch. Winter is so brief.
Last Saturday it was too cold to go for a walk on the beach or hike a new path. Something about the temperature sucked us inward, toward home with no want to see new sights or try new things. We gathered the trash and recycling, sorted it all in turn, sought out a few things for the pantry and found the flea market closed against finding a lamp and a shelf.
When the call came from my fika friends that we should meet in the afternoon for tea and conversation while the children played, I leapt at the opportunity. We met last October when my daughter was here.
The children played loudly, seeming to purposefully make our visit more difficult. My friends were both on diets, as I should be (and have planned to be), so they munched on one thin, hard tunebrod with butter, while I enjoyed leftover
We had a family of six over for ham and scalloped potatoes. I made streusel pumpkin muffins to use up the rest of the cooked pumpkin. The children ate their muffins upside down, preferring not to eat the sweet, streusel topping. It was chaotic fun to have them over!
Now the week is nearly finished—where did it go?
I go through dry spells when I don’t read anything but the Bible (nothing dry about that, though). Lately, however, I find my finger in at least five books. One on back pain, another on postmodern Christianity and the rest poetry. An old book of poetry by
We’ve been enjoying a deep, immense silence out here in the country. It is quieter by far than Malmö or even the town of
I had another thought. Yesterday
Lord, help them! Lord, help me to be content!
Two dinners ago we had homemade chicken and vegetable soup. Last night I turned it into pork/chicken pot pie (homemade biscuits on top instead of crust). The boys didn’t mind their leftovers this time! I love watching
Time for Swedish lessons, a half hour drive away. I hope my memory and tongue work for me. I’ve only been assigned the “alfabetet” to start. Wish me well as I wish you well on your endeavors!