It is amazing how it is still August, and yet there is a
slight breeze in the air these days that lets you know autumn is on its way.
When I Skype with my family in New Jersey, they are still in their bathing
suits, just home from the swim club, while we are starting the song and dance
of layers on – layers off, every five minutes, depending on whether there is a
cloud covering the sun.
And the days go by.
I’ve let this blog go for a bit. I hope someone other than
men’s rights activists still pop in now and then.
Little Swede has gone back to preschool, which leaves me
with a bit of time in the mornings when I am not trying to do 8 different
things.
The days are getting shorter.
Coming back to Sweden after a long stay in the US always has
a bit of a sting to it. As much as the US is starting to look worse for the
wear, it still sometimes shines a bit brighter to my eyes.
Were the roads always that poorly cared for? Why don’t they
just bury those damn power lines already? Whose idea was wall-to-wall carpeting
in dressing rooms, ever?
Back in Sweden the roads are smooth, the power lines don’t
clutter the landscape, you don’t have to tip for every service under the sun,
and things are quieter, but not always in a good way.
It is good to be home. It is sad to be away. I can say this
on either side of the ocean.
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