Tree Trouble

This morning Stephanie told me her Christmas tree had arrived.

– I’m going to put it up, she announced, although it’s early!

– Don’t worry, I assured her, mine arrived the 3rd of December, and I’ve had it up since then.

She stared at me:

– But it must be dead by now!

I laughed:

– No, I water it, of course!

– What do you mean, water it?!

– It is a plant after all, I said patiently. It needs water.

– Oooh, said Stephanie slowly. I never knew.

She pauses, and then admits:

– My dad used to grow Christmas trees. We sold hundreds every Christmas.

Fancy that, I thought to myself. And she never knew it’s a plant!

Cake Problems

In an effort to avoid buying one of those (as our family calls it) ‘disgusting English birthday cakes’ for son’s birthday today, I decided to bake my own. Unfortunately it turned out just as disgusting as the ones you buy. I must be getting too English. I have decided to get a Very Small Cake Tin for future birthdays – that’ll make it less to chuck in the bin.

Dashing off to Stockholm

I’m dashing off to Stockholm tomorrow, to market my new book, Svag is (Thin Ice). As usual, when something happens, everything happens at once. Not only is tomorrow hubby’s birthday, but son has an Important entrance exam. This means I’ll be getting up dead early, having a hectic day and then arriving in Stockholm near midnight. Think I may be slightly sleepy during the presentation on Thursday. I’m also looking forward to a lovely Japanese lunch with my co-author, Ewa Christina Johansson, and my publishers at Rabén & Sjögren on that day. Fingers crossed I’ll manage to keep awake at least until I’m back on the plane in the afternoon!

2nd edition out!

Second edition of Ett år i London out! With lovely new cover and a few bonus texts from later date. Excellent Christmas present for your Swedish-reading beloved ones instead of candle holders, itchy scarves or chocolate.

Read about family life in south-west London, a refreshing contrast to the insipid London guidebooks. Here you learn whose car to dent when learning to drive left-hand traffic, why there are ghosts in British supermarkets and where Darth Vader shops his costumes.

Www.bokus.com delivers abroad! Will also be available as ebook.

Back To Monday Realities

I’m back to reality with taking cat to the vet, dealing with the gutters, scheduling next term’s lectures and driving child to guitar lesson. London is mild and grey. Trees turned yellow during the week I was away. I’ve gained a kilo while on holiday. Time to start thinking about the Christmas pressies?

Transformation

How lucky am I to get to know a proper makeup artist this holiday! Ingrid Richard from Holland has taught me how to apply makeup and which colours to wear. Yey! I’m gonna do some makeup shopping at the airport going home today, and then start practising! People will ask themselves who that model in the schoolyard is ;D .

This Year’s Adoptive Dog

Every year when we come here to Los Romanes, one dog or another adopts us for the duration of the stay. This is always a very decisive action, and nothing can persuade the dog in question that we are doing fine without it.

This year it’s a little cream-coloured thing that simply walked home with us from the village one evening and then stayed. Maria gave it a bath with a lavish amount of shampoo. The dog stood limply in the bathtub, dumbfounded with shock. It was obvious it had never had a bath before.

After that, however, it was rewarded with lots of cuddles and a name: ‘Rufus’, by the children.  Rufus is now duly fed every day and sleeps inside at night. He has a collar, so I suppose he will just go back to whoever he came from when we leave.

The Big Quiet

It is night in the Andalusian mountains. What a difference from London – the quietness is a like big open space, the total opposite to, for example, the enclosed quietness of a snowfall. The occasional barking of dogs against the backdrop of cicadas just exposes the very quality of the quiet.

The other villages are gleaming like topaz brooches on a dark coat in the distance. My window is a small stone in the brooch that is us.

I’m saving it all for when I’ll be stuck under the flightpath again in a few days.

Hej kock!

British chef Rob with wife Hilary come in every day to cook up a three-course lunch for us here in Los Romanes. “We” are several Swedish families, sharing my sister’s huge rented house. As Swedish children don’t start learning English in school until they are nine, not all of them speak English. So one little Swedish girl goes into the kitchen and says to Rob:

– Hej kock! (Pronunciation: Hey cock! Translation: Hi chef!)

Rob nearly drops whatever he is doing, and both he and Hilary stare at the little girl, who, believing herself to have been polite, saunters off.

–      OK, says Rob disbelievingly slowly.

I laugh so hard it takes a while to explain.

My Andalusian View

 Check out my view while writing here in Andalusia, south Spain! A 240 degree or so panorama over beautiful mountains with pretty white villages, crumbling roads and olive fields. The result, of course, is that I don’t write but sit staring at the view instead. And wait for lunch, which consists of a three-course meal cooked by a professional chef, Rob, and his wife Hilary. After lunch, topped with sangrias, I won’t be able to write, as I’ll just be lying around in a deckchair.

It’s my sister who has invited me to the house she rents every year in the little mountain village Los Romanos. This morning it rained, but now the sun is out with a strong scent of lavender. Actually, I think I’ll go and lie in the sun for a while instead of writing.