My big red Advent star is glowing softly in the window beside me. The little silver snowflake tealight candle is turning slowly in the shadow of the poinsettia and the tree is sparkling, sparkling, sparkling behind me. I can sit and take stock of our Christmas celebrations, which were lovely, though tinged with sadness as we learned one of our dearest friends was terminally ill. It has taken me a few days to fully get over the sudden shock of that news.

But back to Christmas Eve. We drove up to Stockholm in the late morning, stopping for a while at the Botkyrka cemetery, where we lit candles on the graves of my parents-in-law. It is something that many families do and the place was quite crowded with people paying their respects to departed loved ones.

Then we went on to my brother-in-law's home, laden with gifts and trays of vegetarian goodies for the Christmas table. When we arrived, Mille passed around a small tray of miniature ceramic cups of glögg, a hot mulled wine, or spiced punch, with "punch" being the operative word. This Swedish potion of warmed red wine and Madeira, served over blanched almonds and raisins, is very heady stuff. Glögg is the Swedish word for "glow" -- and after even one tiny mug of the stuff, the name is fully explained.




At 3 p.m., everyone took a break from the Christmas preparations for one of the more peculiar and more recent Swedish Christmas traditions, established in the 1960s. Virtually the entire nation -- millions of Swedes -- gather in front of the television set to watch an hour of classic Disney cartoons that have been dubbed into Swedish.

The entire family sits together and chuckles over the antics of Kalle Anka (Donald Duck). We watch Mickey Mouse and Goofy on a caravan holiday, Ferdinand the bull sniffing the daisies, Lady and the Tramp eating spaghetti, Mowgli and Baloo singing in the jungle and Chip 'n Dale teasing Pluto and making a mess of Mickey's Christmas tree. There's an excerpt from the animated version of Cinderella, with the mice singing in hilarious, high-pitched Swedish and a scene from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs with equally ludicrous singing.




Everyone filled their plates with Christmas food and sat around the table, talking and laughing while we ate. Even Lambi got her own spot at the head of the table (where else?) I had to rely on L-G to fill my plate as I have damaged the ligaments in my knee and after days of being on my feet, it finally protested that enough was enough.




The very interesting thing about this Christmas was that I witnessed a generation shift that was quite marked. We are used to Lars-Göran's mum as being the one quietly eating, with the middle generation (L-G, his brother and wife, myself) steering the conversations and the younger generation looking on and occasionally putting in a few words.

Not this year. I had already wondered what Christmas 2008 would be like. As you know, that first year after the death of a loved one you have to learn to live without that person. The holidays are one of those time when I knew that L-G's mum's absence would be felt and I worried that Christmas would suffer and become grey.

I worried in vain. The middle generation is now the older generation. And i saw that we sat and mostly ate quietly, listening to the new "middle generation" take over and laugh and chat with no help from us. With little baby Viggo being the newest of the "young" generation, I can see this cycle continuing. And I know that my mother-in-law would be thrilled.




At the conclusion of dinner, it was time for the presents. In Australia, we simply open presents placed under the tree the night before, but it is traditional in Sweden, especially in households with small children, for the presents to be delivered by a family member, dressed up as the jultomten, the Christmas gnome, in a red Santa cap. And this being Sweden, land of equal opportunity, our Santa was a woman.




For centuries, Swedes believed in the presence of tomtar, mythical creatures a bit like leprechauns, who were thought to live under the floor of the house or barn, bringing good luck and mischief in equal measure. Every country in Scandinavia has some equivalent form of gnomes or elves or brownies.

Jultomten hands out the presents, or julklappar -- which translates, oddly, as "Christmas knocks." The name comes from an ancient gift-giving tradition that is part prank. The gift-giver would creep stealthily up to a friend or relative's door, knock hard, open the door and throw the present inside the house (obviously they didn't give fine crystal or china) and then run like hell to get away without being seen.

The recipient would then have to figure out the identity of the giver by deciphering a little verse written on the wrapping. We still spend hours writing little witty rhymes (julrim) to attach to each gift, suggesting its contents, or teasing the recipient.




L-G wrote an unintentionally hilarious julrim to go with one of my gifts. When tomte read out the bit about "pleasure from down under", the room erupted in wolf whistles and howls of laughter from the assembled people.

At first I thought that if this was something sexy and kinky that he thought I was going to unwrap in front of his family, I was going to KILL him. But I saw his bright red, confused face and realised that he innocently thought of Australia as "Down Under", whereas the others were not familiar with the term, and I think they had their minds focused on a quite different "down under"... LOL!




The gift turned out to be a box of assorted Aussie goodies that HE will more than likely scoff himself. But that Christmas rhyme will go down in Nordström family history I think.

I also got some books to keep me busy over the winter months. Some of the nicest gifts were those sent by friends from afar. They may not have been the most expensive gifts, but each was selected with just me in mind, and that made them special. Among the gifts that made me smile were a calendar of Dogs on the Job from my friend Sandy at Fish Creek. She said she hoped I'd enjoy looking at the beautiful Aussie scenery and that perhaps the dogs would inspire Lambi to get off the couch. Not much chance of that happening, though she said she ought to visit Australia and give those dogs lessons in "power slacking".




There was also a pretty little silver tealight candle holder from my friend Justine, an Aussie living in Stockholm. It has snowflakes hooked on around the roof, which rotate when alight. And a little biscuit cutter shaped like a poodle from my friend Holly in the UK. I can now offer my friends "dog biscuits" just to see the look on their face.

But one of the best moments of the Christmas season was watching little Viggo sitting with his dad, chewing on his new little Lambi toy. It's what Christmas is all about.




I hope that all those of you who are dealing with the deep freeze that has settled over so much of the northern Europe are safe and warm and that you're not plagued by power outages or any other related problems.

What can one say about new beginnings that hasn't been said already? In a couple of hours it will be 2009 here in Sweden, some many hours before a lot of you celebrate its entry and some many hours after it began back home in Australia.

Let’s hope 2009 brings a quick recovery and peace to the Middle East, to India and Pakistan, Iraq, Sudan and elsewhere. Have fun. Be safe.