vanilla, yum

Today is the Swedish National Day, as well as National Cancer Survivors Day. Double reason for ice cream, if you ask me. Click here to see the sundae Dan and I split today.

clogs, anyone? anyone?

I got this link from Noel. "I thought of you when I saw this", he writes. Why? Probably because I am the proud owner of two pairs of kurbits decorated wooden clogs, dark blue. Kurbits painting is a traditional style of Swedish painting: stylized flowers, colorful and squiggly. (It's what's all over those wooden horses, actually.)

Anyway. Clogs are in every 7 years or so, and this time Karl Lagerfeld is making an attempt for Chanel. New York Magazine doesn't seem to appreciate it. I kind of like these ones.

make believe, and not in a good way

This morning my office mate asked me about something she'd seen on PBS on Sunday night. It had been a crime story set in Sweden, but with English speaking actors. She was confused.

She said it was weird, and wondered if they just couldn't find Swedish actors. Then she said the entire thing looked like a continuity problem, meaning that the occasional appearances (in documents, on a newspaper) of the Swedish language looked like they had been included by mistake. And the premise is an odd one: Actors speak English, but live in a Swedish environment.

Oh, wait, that isn't odd at all. That's reality. The world is bilingual.

Anyway.

Dan lasted 20 minutes. I lasted 21 minutes. Either it wasn't very good, or I am Americanized now and that's why I couldn't handle the slower than molasses pace.

Rape seed fields were stunning, though.