Today is the first Sunday of Advent. I love Advent in Sweden - there is a strong tradition that this is the first day of the Christmas season and when everything comes alive in anticipation of Christmas.

We began our day with the lighting of the first Advent candle, setting up our advent stars and advent candles in the window and a traditional Advent breakfast.




This consists of a special bread called julvört (a dark and spicy rye bread made just for Christmas), some Christmas ham with a honey mustard, edam cheese, coffee, glögg (spiced mulled wine) with raisins and almonds and gingerbread.

In the winter darkness, the window display looks beautiful and we will be loving walking around town in the coming weeks and seeing all of the windows decorated for Christmas. Let's hope the snow returns as everything looks so much prettier surrounded by the glistening white snow.




Today is also known as skyltsöndag (literally shop window Sunday), when the town lights the special Christmas street lighting, the shops unveil their Christmas window displays and the real Christmas shopping season kicks off in Sweden. It's a much anticipated event. I know this has been in full swing in Adelaide since mid-November when the Adelaide Pageant took place, but here there is a much shorter, more intense season.

In a minute we are off to Nyköping to see the shop windows unveiled, to go to the Christmas market and hopefully wander around sipping glögg, eating warm toffee coated almonds and soaking up the atmosphere of the 2008 Advent season.

I've been on the lookout lately for one of the first signs of Christmas here - when Posten release their Christmas stamps.

It might seem early to some to be thinking of Christmas cards, but when at least half of the seventy cards I send each year are to overseas destinations, you really can't be too early. I buy my cards early and as soon as the stamps are released, I am among the first to buy them.

I'm not that fond of the stamps released for domestic mail this year. Last year we had the lovely Astrid Lindgren series and the year before, several typical symbols of Swedish Christmas. Both series were really cheerful and pretty. This year they have opted for the Christmas wreaths. You would think that could produce some lovely stamps, but unfortunately they seem to be a bit drab to me.

We fare better with the stamps for overseas cards, where the theme is winter play and depict typical winter scenes and snowy landscape. There is snow man building, a girl in red sledding down a hill and a pretty snow ball tree outside of a typical little red wooden cottage. I think they will bring some cheer and a welcome blast of chilly air to my friends currently sweating profusely in Adelaide.

All of my cards are now written, stamped and ready. The ones to Australia are already in the post, along with one or two Aussie friends here in Sweden who will be heading home to celebrate in the next week or two (lucky ducks!). The US and European ones I'll post next week and those to Finland and Sweden the week after.




You may be thinking that I'm slaving away here at midnight by candlelight to get them all done, but believe me, it's 3.30pm in that picture. We are down to the 6 or 7 hours of daylight at the moment, so candles are a much used item in the daylight gloom. Anyway, writing out Christmas cards is a labour of love for me.

I know that Christmas is seen by some as being over commercialised and many people declare that they can't be bothered with it anymore. But you won't find me saying that. I see it as the one time of year that can really bring out the best in so many people. There is a mood of goodwill that is infectious. "Why are you bothering to send Christmas cards?" another friend asks "people don't send them back and they simply get thrown away", but to me it's a small thing I can to show people that I am thinking of them, especially if they are far away. And I've ceased to worry whether people send me one or not. I'm doing it for myself, because it is something I want to do. Of course, it is still nice to get mail that it not a bill these days!




So off I trotted down to the letter box, looking at the frozen landscape and thinking about how very different it all is from my childhood Christmases spent in sun drenched beaches. Here it is dark and cold, but coming up this weekend, Advent begins with the traditional lighting of the Christmas displays in the shop windows, we light the first Advent candle and the Christmas stars in the windows. We'll visit the Christmas markets (this year at the square and the harbour in Nyköping as well at Steninge Castle) and every evening, sip on glögg and julmust and eat gingerbread biscuits while we wait for Lucia day and then Christmas. I'm really looking forward to it.




I was quite excited when I saw that even Soda Stream has made a Julmust flavour. I was a bit dubious, but we bought a bottle to try and it's good - very good. And so convenient as I won't have to lug dozens of 2 litre bottles of the stuff through the snow. I've written about the Swedish obsession of drinking Julmust at Christmas (goodness, have I been blogging THAT long?) and I have to admit that after nearly 8 years here, I'm as addicted as my Swede.

But there is still the latent Aussie lurking in my tastebuds and they fired up into overdrive when I saw that Estrella is now making Salt and Vinegar Chips! Wow, it felt like Christmas had come early!




Of course I grabbed a big bag. I thought about buying the whole box, but the Swede was with me and I didn't want to look too greedy. Anyway, I thought I should sample them first and see if they are up to par.

*Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch*

The verdict:

L-G (screwing up his face, gagging and attempting to scrape off his tongue): "Så äckligt!"

Marie: "Hmmm...okay I guess, but not a patch on Samboys. These hardly have any flavour at all. A good S & V Chip should explode in your mouth and make it pucker up"

L-G looked at me as though I was a certifiable lunatic. So I of course I couldn't resist continuing... "They don't call them Savage Salt & Vinegar for nothing, you know. I remember when you could buy them with a little extra sachet of salt and vinegar flavouring, which you could add to the chips. You could add more KA-POW to them."

Now he really looks scared.

Will I buy them again? Of course I will, despite the pale flavour (that my soft Swedish husband thinks is too strong). If L-G hates them, then I might actually get a chance to eat one or two. If he liked them, he'd vacuum them up really efficiently and I'd never see them. If only Samboy would export to Sweden....

Of the four season of the year I have to choose from, I'd have to say that since I've been in Sweden, autumn would be my favourite time of the year. Some would argue that the whole season is one of slow descent into winter, complete with the slow decline of temperatures until it reaches the near zero level, which will stick around for a few weeks. It also is a time of seemingly overcast and rainy days, with a few November windstorms. That is all true to a degree, but Autumn in Sweden does have its advantages as well, the main one being the vibrant and changing colours of the leaves on the trees.




That picture was taken a month ago from my kitchen window and you have to admit that there are worse things I could be overlooking as I prepare our meals. As autumn progresses, the leaves become sparse, blown into piles by the frequent gales and all too soon, we descend into the gloom that I associate with November here. Though I do have to say that this November has been considerably better and brighter than I've experienced before. I'm not sure whether the milder, wetter summer had anything to do with it, but there were many trees out there which hadn't got the memo about the whole autumn thing. They stood there happily as green and leafy as ever, with just the slightest hints of colour here and there. Of course the season eventually caught up to them, but they took their own sweet time with the whole thing. I swear they are taking lessons from that lazy dog of mine.




The picture above was taken earlier this week. And what a contrast to October! This is still something that surprises me every year. Having grown up in the relative warmth of South Australia, we did not experience these sharp contrasts at all. Summer sort of drifted into autumn about a week before the mild winter and before you knew it, it was summer again. Here, the seasonal differences are very marked and each season has its charms.

What often makes November bearable is that we do get bouts of snow - an early foretaste of the coming winter. And early this week, mother nature obliged with a gentle powdering of snow. Enough to break the gloom and soften the landscape and cheer up that kitchen window view.




A day later and the news was even better, with a nice thick coating of pristine, marshmallowy goodness. I am still wildly and childishly excited by snow. Probably because I didn't grow up with it and so I am making up for lost time. But you have to agree that it has made the world look beautiful again.

I have read some bloggers saying how early the snow is this year and how they can't remember ever having such heavy snow in November, but all I can say is that they must have short memories. I recall on November 1st 2006, when Stockholm was crippled by a sudden, heavy snowfall - a good three weeks earlier than this week's one.




I am lucky that I need not take my car out for anything urgent (the joys of living in a small town with a short walk to all essential services), but I did feel for people stranded on trains and at airports waiting out the weather. One always takes a chance with that at this time of the year.

But for those of us out in the sticks, life is at a much slower pace and we have time to stroll around and collect dinner at our leisure.




I want to go out and gather up all of the elks and take them home to my apartment for the winter. Perhaps I could start a Swedish version of this elk farm in Russia and sell "moose milk". I cannot understand why people shoot these lovely, gentle animals which is why I am not saying where these two are. I already shudder every time I meet my next door neighbour in the stairwell, dressed in his camouflage gear and carrying his rifle....

I wonder if he needs a good hunting dog?

But downunder, it is gearing up for summer. And hoping to rub salt into out frozen wounds, Swedish friends of ours who are visiting Perth, keep sending us pictures of themselves wearing short sleeves and basking in the sunshine. And making me feel homesick when I see the Aussie flag.




Yeah, yeah, yeah Björn and Marianne, laugh as much as you like. You'll be home in a week, freezing your assets off like the rest of us.

Now that Lambi is fully recovered from her operation, we've found that for the first time in her life, she is putting on weight. Since April, she has gained 800g. While that does not sound much, when you remember that she only weighed 3.6kg in the first place, it's quite a lot.

As usual, I was in denial, claiming she was "just fluffy" or "getting her winter coat", but after weighing her at the vet the other day when she got her rabies shot, I had to admit that a little dog Weight Watchers was in order. So, she is being "encouraged" to go for longer walks. Which she is very reluctant to do, much preferring this mode of transport.

The first day, she shivered and carried on as though she was dying. We both thought she may be trying to con us, but we did admit that she needed a better coat for walks in the woods - something that would cover her tummy and was waterproof. We selected a nice coat in a burgundy colour that was perfect, but sadly not in stock in her size. The shop owner got us to try on the same coat in another colour for the size and said she would order it in.

Guess what? It was LAST season's colour and not made this season. I didn't realise that dogs followed fashion seasons as well. So after much face pulling and declarations about how hideous it is, we bought her a warm coat in this season's camouflage colours.




If there was ever a dog born who did not suit this style, it is our dog. People are smiling at us in the street and remarking on our "fine hunting dog". I'm sure they are smirking as they walk off. Someone asked me her name the other day and I almost said White Fang just to see what they would say. So we took her down to the wilds of the duck pond to see if we could instill some kind of wilderness instinct in her. To see if she could hear the call of the wild, to watch the ducks quake in fear as she approaches decked out in her Rambo gear.




As you can see she and the ducks are as mutually bored with each other. Not a quack or a feather out of place. Just a demand for the contents of my bag. Lambi sniffed briefly at the stale bread I was offering the ducks, but then heard the call of the warm apartment and the fresh cinnamon buns. Well, it's a start...

The ducks, on the other hand, seemed to be in exercise mode. A group of young girls were running along the path and the ducks, thinking they may get a good feed, started jogging off after them. I wish I'd thought to film it as it was hilarious watching them all jog happily along the track, keeping pace with each other.




But Madame Lambi hot footed it home as fast as her tiny, mincing steps could carry her. I tried her out the next day as well. There was a light sprinkling of snow on the ground, which did not impress her one bit. She walked under sufferance up to the school and then turned for home as her internal pedometer told her enough was enough. Only to find her path blocked by big, fierce birds, whereupon she insisted on being carried the rest of the way and spending the remainder of the day on the couch recovering.




Day three, the snow was heavier, so she declared herself totally unwilling to venture forth. So much for dog loyalty - she left me to fend off the duck attack all by myself. They seem to beg food from every passerby and there is no way you can try and fob them off with excuses like you are on the Atkins Diet - they don't care about low carbs - they want bread!




I'm only scared that they will figure out where I live and start dropping by for a top up feed. Just as well I have that fierce dog on hand to help me out. Just to be on the safe side, I've threatened her with one of these poodle hair styles if she doesn't start behaving more like a real dog. Somehow I don't think she really cares.

As you can see from the picture, autumn is in an advanced state and winter is approaching fast, which means that the winter tyres have to come on, one of those dreaded annual tasks. They are mandatory here between December 1st and March 31st if the conditions warrant them.

In Sweden most people use the kind of winter tyres that have metal studs in them to get a good grip on ice. L-G is very deft at changing the tyres and does it quite methodically, even having special plastic bags to keep the stored tyres in. How's that for clean and tidy? I think I might keep him after all!

We had our first real snowfall on Wednesday while we were out in the car with summer tyres still on! It took us rather by surprise as we'd been slack and not really listened carefully to the forecast. We made it home safely and before it became too heavy. But there was enough snow to turn our world white.




Sadly the temperature rose, it melted into slush. Later the temperature fell again and we woke up Thursday to sheet ice, which meant I had to break out the spikes for my shoes for the first time this season. What a contrast to the day before, when the wind whipped up, it was clear and sunny and the sea pounded into the cliffs by the light house keeper's cottage. It looks like a whole different world, but only 24 hours separates them.




The power of the water is mesmerising. I've always loved the coast and while we never get the fabulous thundering surf we get in Australia, I still love to stand and watch the water crash over the rocks and feel the spray on my face. This stretch of coast is a veritable ship's graveyard and looking at the unforgiving rocks, which stretch out in shoals many miles out to sea, one can understand why it is so.




The lighthouse keeper’s cottage is on Femöre and has a lonely location on a cliff edge above the Baltic. You can't get any closer to nature than this. The path to the cottage is through the woodpecker's forest and it is hard to believe that when you stumble on this intriguing gate in the woods, that it leads out to this isolated outpost.




This picture was taken a month ago when we still had leaves on the trees. It's a beautiful walk through the woods and a big bonus that one is able to stand and gaze out at the unbroken horizon. I feel very spoiled living here as we get the best of both worlds - we have the open waters of the Baltic stretching eastwards from here, but if we look more to the north, we see the amazing archipelago. These islands outside of Oxelösund are also one of the rare places where nature has been left pretty much undisturbed.




But for now, that's out of the question as the yacht lies tucked up on land in her winter place and we can dream of next year's sailing adventures while we watch the autumn storms rage.




I always think this sort of weather is best observed from inside some warm, cosy safe and dry place. People talk about the idea that they'd like to be out on the water in rough weather, but take it from me, you really don't want to be there. It's quite terrifying and I'm quite happy to be a land lubber for the next few months.

Now, if you are looking for a Christmas gift, I can recommend something. A couple of years back, we helped a young American man who wanted to buy a sailing boat and sail it from Stockholm to Morocco, despite the fact that he'd never sailed before. Well, he has written a book about it and it's available to buy. It's called The Sea Inside. Randall is a gifted writer with a beautiful grasp of language and the story of his journey is really engaging. Best of all, we all appear in the book - Lars-Göran, myself, Lambi, Bruce and Sheila. What could be better? Though he calls Lambi a finicky poodle - whatever could he mean by that?

Last Saturday, it was Christening day for L-G's dear little grandson. The service was lovely, the church beautiful and the star of the show behaved himself so well. Viggo dressed in his sweet little outfit stole the show, which is just as it ought to be.

We travelled from Oxelösund up to the northern suburbs of Stockholm on a bitterly cold but sunny Saturday, to Eds kyrka, situated on the shores of Edssjön.




This beautiful church is the oldest one in the area and parts of it date back to medieval times, having been built around 1100. It was consecrated to St Olof (who we call St Olaf in English).




It is built of local granite and then covered with plaster. The interior walls have been painted by a quite well known medieval painter called (rather appropriately) "Albert the Painter". While worn in places, the paintings seem to be holding up very well, considering their age and they combined with the beautiful stained glass windows to give the church a lovely peaceful and elegant atmosphere.




This was the first Christening service I have attended in a Swedish church, so I was interested in seeing how it compared to the services I am used to in Australia. I actually found it to be very similar and as you can see, with a familiar looking baptismal font and the Paschal candle, it could be anywhere in the Christian world.




We began by welcoming the baby, his parents and his godparents to the church. The priest who conducted the ceremony was outstanding. He struck the perfect balance between it being a religious service and a gathering of family and friends to admire the baby. Viggo is the first grandchild on both sides of the family, so he is in a very special position and absolutely doted on by a legion of grandparents, aunts and uncles.




Here he is looking around quietly, being held by mum with his godmother standing next to them. And because this is an equal opportunity blog, we ought to have a shot of him being held by dad and chatting to his godfather :)

I asked Lars-Göran about the godfather and he tells me that he is one of his son's childhood friends. He can remember him as a little boy and found it amazing to think of him now as grown up and prepared to take on the responsibility of being a godparent.




Then it was time for the main event and Viggo was held over the font. He was an absolute angel during the entire church ceremony. He looked very curiously at the priest as he poured the holy water over his forehead, but did not let out a tear or cry. Though we nearly shed a tear when we heard that one of the baby's names (Swedes usually have three names) was Edvin, who is Lars-Göran's father. How proud he would have been if he had been alive today to hear that his name will continue on in another generation. And I felt sad again that Evy had not lived long enough to see her great grandson born - she would have loved to have been with us all today. It struck me that this is the first family gathering without her, though I'm certain she was with us in spirit.

I noted that the same familiar Bible verse from Matthew 28:19 was used as the priest poured the water, though the Swedish ceremony had a different feel to it. It was less formal and liturgical than a Catholic christening ceremony and somehow better suited to a baby.




You can see this when you look at how the priest holds the baby aloft so we can all rejoice that he is now baptised. I was sitting with my sister-in-law and I asked her if there was any significance or meaning behind the green ribbon Viggo wore on his robe. I explained that we tended to have all white outfits and I was simply curious. She said that there was no special reason, but that people sometimes chose pink or blue ribbons to brighten the outfit and that not all babies wore white either. She pointed to her 22 year old son sitting next to her and said that he wore a little sailor suit for his christening. He looked at her, obviously appalled and said "Do I understand you correctly? You dressed me as Donald Duck for my christening?" We laughed - I guess that is one way to look at it.




The priest then invited any members of the gathering to come forward and take pictures. And there was a stampede of the 80 or so relatives and friends to the front of the church and like a scramble of mad paparazzi, the flashes lit up the church as everyone vied for their memory of the day. and like the little trooper he is, Viggo took it all in his stride.




Once order had been restored, Emilie's mum came forward and read a moving speech from Nelson Mandela on the nature of spirituality and humanity. The priest followed this up with a brief homily, where he urged us all to love and watch over little Viggo and cherish him not for what he does, but simply because he is himself.




He was also presented with his baptismal candle, lit as it the custom from the Paschal candle. This proved to be a big hit and really piqued his interest as he stared at it and reached out towards the light. My favourite moments in the whole ceremony were when I caught glimpses of the parents looking at their dear little son. There is no mistaking their great love for him and I found that very touching.




Above, you can glimpse mum looking tenderly at him, though just like a typical kid, he is ignoring her in favour of the candle. And below is his dad with the same love in his eyes. And Viggo still fixated on the candle. It was wonderful for Lars-Göran to recall his son as a baby and look at him standing there as a grown man, embarking on his journey as a parent. And for me, I thought back to that brash, cheeky nineteen year old boy I met for the first time nearly eight years ago and pondered the road he had taken since then to bring him here today.




What memories I will cherish of this perfect day. And how happy I am to have been part of this milestone in little Viggo's life.

I've often commented about the innate honesty of Swedes. It fascinated me when I first arrived here for example, to see supermarkets with self-scanners, where they trusted people to walk around and scan in their groceries, then hand over the scanner and pay, with nobody checking that you had really scanned all of your items. When I suggested to L-G that people might deliberately slip in an expensive glossy magazine WITHOUT scanning it, or maybe scan the apples and then add a few more, he was aghast.

So then how does he explain the recent news that the Swedes are the biggest shoplifters in Scandinavia? Without missing a beat, he declared that this is what happens when you start letting Australians into Sweden! I hope Australian Immigration are reading this blog and will haul him over the coals if he steps inside our borders. See the insults I have to put up with?

We were at the supermarket the other day and I saw a sign in the car park that made me laugh.




I pointed to the horse sign and quipped that I knew the petrol prices had risen considerably, but I hadn't realised people were resorting to the old horse and cart. And how nice of the supermarket to provide a hitching post. He looked at me as though I was insane. He wandered off muttering something about nutty and fruitcake that I didn't quite catch.

Inside, while I was looking at the fresh produce, I did a double take when I saw this:




No, you aren't imagining things. This is a banana slicer! Because of course, bananas are just so hard to slice, aren't they? Not easy like say onions... I know people have too much money and not enough crap in their cupboards already, but honestly, a banana slicer?

What a beautiful sunny day it's been here - I wish every day was like this. But it has turned very cold and the leaves are dropping like showers of gold. Most of the leaves have fallen and the trees are bare, meaning that winter is not far off.




As a child, growing up in a warm country, when people spoke of autumn these are the kind of images I would picture in my mind. Blue skies, golden leaves, a carpet of fallen leaves to happily shuffle through, the crisp air, the gentle warmth of the sun, and incredible colour everywhere. It’s days like this which make everything else that goes along with life seem not only worthwhile, but gratifying, as if we work hard and do as much as we do in our normal lives to get, every now and then, a taste of something wonderful.




And here I am living in the world of my childhood dreams. The air is filled the smell of bonfires. We are rugged up in scarves, woolly hats and mittens, with the crunch of frost underfoot as we make our way through the woods. I love to immerse myself in the quiet of the season, watching the trees standing yellow, red and orange, with leaves rustling under my feet, chilly air tugging at my coat and the calm waters of the gently rippling river reflecting all of this beauty.




And if you think that guy is nuts to be out fishing when it is 3C, then wait until I show you the guys out ice fishing in winter - I kid you not. It's totally insane.

And speaking of insane, we are off to Stockholm again tomorrow. I know what I said the other day, but this time it is a labour of love. We are attending a christening - to celebrate the first spiritual occasion in Viggo’s life. He will be christened at his local church surrounded by his loving family and their friends. It promises to be both a lovely and happy affair, also a good reason to celebrate.

I had a tiring day in central Stockholm yesterday. If I ever post that I'm going there again, can someone PLEASE hit me with a clue stick? What a madhouse. Not helped by the pissing rain and the whole mentality of let's elbow everyone out of the way which really gets up my nose. And the fact that the car park wanted 15kr ($3) per 10 minutes to park, after slugging us congestion tax of 10kr to drive into town anyway. Thieves. I have obviously been living in the sticks far too long. I've never been so happy to leave a place in my life.

But it was not a total loss, as after we finished with our business, I dragged L-G into Taylors & Jones to pick up some snags. People in Australia should feel sympathy for me, because I haven't eaten a sausage in nearly 8 years. Swedes do not know how to make sausages. The only thing they sell here as "sausage" is something that looks like a hot dog. So if you think you are buying chorizio for example and get all excited, you are really narked when you get home and see that it is just a hot dog thingy, with a vague half-arsed semi chilli flavour. And strangely enough, they actually barbeque these things.

But tonight, we will be having real sausages. I bought some of the beef with cracked pepper plus a few of the roast pork and honey sausages. And even better, I found Milo, Mustard Pickles, Vegemite, Birds Custard Powder and (joy of joys) Tim Tams! Mind you they were 58 kr (about $11) a packet but you do these things when you are desperate. So we will be having Tim Tam slams in the days to come.

But today, we are back in the relative peace of Oxelösund, checking out the crazy wildlife. And they don't come crazier than the woodpecker.

Woodpeckers, as their name suggests, peck on the wood of trees to look for or to hide tasty treats, and to build nests. In addition to drilling holes, woodpeckers will knock their heads to send sound signals.

It sounds pretty obvious, doesn't it? But in the same way that I was astounded to learn that cuckoos really did say "Cuckoo", it came as a complete surprise to me that this was seriously how woodpeckers behave. I have heard them many times pecking their little hearts out in the woods. And for those who haven't heard them, they sound like this little guy:




They tap an estimated 8,000-12,000 times per day. I wonder how their bodies handle vigorous, repeated blows to the head as they peck? And to think people accuse ME of being hardheaded. Woodpeckers mostly live in wooded areas and forests. They are known to tap on tree trunks in order to find insects living in crevices in the bark and also to excavate nest cavities. Sometimes they drum on trees to communicate to other woodpeckers and as a part of their courtship behaviour.




As you can see, they are usually quite striking little guys, with their bold black and white feathers and bright red cap. We saw the one above while we were walking around Lake Tåkern last year. We had heard the tapping, but had long given up any thought of seeing the elusive bird, when lo and behold there it was in front of our eyes. So I got to see a live show. I asked L-G if woodpeckers "went to the beech" on a hot day, but he didn't laugh, even after I explained the beech/beach bit. *sigh*.




They are usually found up in the trees, but sometimes venture onto low ground. Though why he is standing there in the pouring rain, I'll never know. We've heard then tapping away while we've been moored to islands in the archipelago, but I've never come close to seeing them again. I've tried to locate the sound and follow the general direction, but they stay out of sight.



Until now. This rather bedraggled specimen was in the woods of Femörefortet, looking as though he'd had a rough night. I am apparently not allowed to post these pictures as they are "not good enough", so we'll just pretend they aren't here.




I know this is not the best example of good old woody, but it's interesting because as we watched, he assumed pecking position and started hammering away. I really liked seeing him use his tail as a sort of bike stand to steady himself while he really dug in and pecked away. There is hardly a day when you don’t hear them working over some of the dead trees and attacking the live ones as well. The birds eat the sap, but they also eat the bugs that are attracted to it. The only problem here is that infection and disease can enter the tree through these holes they make.





So, what kind of holes do they make? Well, you'll be surprised to see that the holes are quite large and obvious. When i first walked along this path and pointed out the damage to L-G, we both assumed it had been some kind of vandalism. But as we saw more and more trees damaged in the same way, sometimes quite high up, I wondered about woodpeckers, but L-G didn't believe it. Fortunately we have a friend who knows a lot about birds in Sweden and when he came for a visit, I dragged him into the woods and showed him these holes.




He confirmed that they were almost certainly woodpeckers. I commented to him that they seemed to do a lot of damage and joked that it was lucky they didn't eat houses, given that the little red wooden cottage is ubiquitous in Sweden. "Oh, but they do!" he answered me and upon looking online, I see that one bird in Öland is definitely living on borrowed time.

He sounds pretty determined, so my money is on the woodpecker, unless they call in Spider Man! I wonder if it works on Stockholmers?

1. You know the meaning of the word "girt".

2. You believe that stubbies can be either drunk or worn.

3. You think it's normal to have a leader called Kevin.

4. You waddle when you walk due to the 53 expired petrol discount vouchers stuffed in your wallet or purse.

5. You've made a bong out of your garden hose rather than use it for something illegal such as watering the garden.

6. You believe it is appropriate to put a rubber in your son's pencil case when he first attends school.

7. When you hear that an American "roots for his team" you wonder how often and with whom.

8. You understand that the phrase "a group of women wearing black thongs" refers to footwear and may be less alluring than it sounds.

9. You pronounce Melbourne as "Mel-bin".

10. You pronounce Penrith as "Pen-riff".

11. You believe the "l" in the word "Australia" is optional.

12. You can translate: "Dazza and Shazza played Acca Dacca on the way to Maccas."

13. You believe it makes perfect sense for a nation to decorate its highways with large fibreglass bananas, prawns and sheep.

14. You call your best friend "a total bastard" but someone you really, truly despise is just "a bit of a bastard".

15. You think "Woolloomooloo" is a perfectly reasonable name for a place.

16. You're secretly proud of our killer wildlife.

17. You believe it makes sense for a country to have a $1 coin that's twice as big as its $2 coin.

18. You understand that "Wagga Wagga" can be abbreviated to "Wagga" but "Woy Woy" can't be called "Woy".

19. You believe that cooked-down axlegrease makes a good breakfast spread.

20. You believe all famous Kiwis are actually Australian, until they stuff up, at which point they again become Kiwis.

21. Hamburger. Beetroot. Of course.

22. You know that certain words must, by law, be shouted out during any rendition of the Angels' song Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again.

23. You believe, as an article of faith, that the confectionary known as the Wagon Wheel has become smaller with every passing year.

24. You still don't get why the "Labor" in "Australian Labor Party" is not spelt with a "u".

25. You wear ugh boots outside the house.

26. You believe, as an article of faith, that every important discovery in the world was made by an Australian but then sold off to the Yanks for a pittance.

27. You believe that the more you shorten someone's name the more you like them.

28. Whatever your linguistic skills, you find yourself able to order takeaway fluently in every Asian language.

29. You understand that "excuse me" can sound rude, while "scuse me" is always polite.

30. You know what it's like to swallow a fly, on occasion via your nose.

31. You understand that "you" has a plural and that it's "youse".

32. You know it's not summer until the steering wheel is too hot to handle.

33. Your biggest family argument over the summer concerned the rules for beach cricket.

34. You shake your head in horror when companies try to market what they call "Anzac cookies".

35. You still think of Kylie as "that girl off Neighbours".

36. When returning home from overseas, you expect to be brutally strip-searched by Customs - just in case you're trying to sneak in fruit.

37. You believe the phrase "smart casual" refers to a pair of black tracky-daks, suitably laundered.

38. You understand that all train timetables are works of fiction.

39. When working on a bar, you understand male customers will feel the need to offer an excuse whenever they order low-alcohol beer.

40. You get choked up with emotion by the first verse of the national anthem and then have trouble remembering the second.

41. You find yourself ignorant of nearly all the facts deemed essential in the government's new test for migrants.

42. You know, whatever the tourist books say, that no one says "cobber".

When we woke this morning, our world had turned white, with drapes of mist swirling around the garden and nearby fields like the edges of a ghostly cloak. It was the most surreal feeling to sit at the window and watch the trees disappear, then reappear like ghostly skeletons swaying against the sky, and the linden leaves raining dewdrops like honey in the park. I imagined the cool moist air would be so refreshing, so out into the mist we went. Which was not easy when you own a dog who is in touch with her inner chicken!




I have no idea why she has become such a scaredy cat. I know she is now totally deaf (something else that happened this year), but we thought her other senses may now become stronger. All it seems to have done is made her afraid of her own shadow. And skittering autumn leaves. And I guess we can add fog to that list.

Eventually she was convinced to walk and follow the path down to the wetlands, through the misty meadows.




The trees are nearly bare now, adding a starkness to the scene. Even so, it is beautiful here in the mornings. There is a sense of serenity, as though you are enveloped and cocooned from the world and the air is so fresh that you want to reach out and touch it.




Near the wetlands, spider’s webs glistening with drops of dew plus the muted, fading late autumn colours are enhanced by the swirling mists. The water on the lake looks very calm and cold and the colour and feel of the water is soft and mild. The elegant swan pair came gliding out through the mist and the whole scene had a very ethereal, dream like quality. I almost expected to see The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite holding aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Marie, was to carry Excalibur....




Or maybe I better lay off that late evening glass of Calvados...

Shortly, the world began to wake for the day and the air was filled with the chattering of tiny birds. The reeds along the waterway are bursting with fossicking birdlife and we saw many swiftly darting shapes flit here and there. These little forest birds are so difficult to photograph as they rarely stand still for more than a second, so you have to be quick or very lucky.




This is a blåmes or blue tit. At only 10cm tall, they are much smaller than the common garden sparrows we see. You can usually distinguish them from the other tits by looking for their quite distinctive blue cap and the little zorro mask it has across its eyes. They are amazingly agile little creatures and you can see them hanging from almost any angle, while they busily ferret out food. These birds stay in Sweden all winter (crazy or what?) and in harsh winters, great numbers of them used to die, though these days, people put out sunflower seeds and suet balls to help supplement the meagre natural food supply.

I want to get a proper feeding table set up at home so we can compete with Dave both help them and be able to observe them more closely.




It is so still now that it is hard to believe they are forecasting gale winds later in the day. At the moment, the trees and bullrushes are reflected perfectly in the water, with hardly a ripple to disturb the surface. All that would be nice is if the sky was blue and a little sun peeped through. But then we wouldn't have the November morning fog wrapping itself around us in billows and swirls and nebulous clouds. Can't have it all.




We spent today doing errands in Nyköping as well as getting our car inspected for the first time. Every vehicle in Sweden needs to be tested each year to ensure that it complies with at least the minimum road safety and environmental standards. And unless it passes, you cannot insure or register your car. As our little baby is newish, he passed with flying colours, so as dusk settled (as it does very early these days) we could head back home to Oxelösund. The sky is darkening and the wind is picking up, so it will be nice to get inside our warm, cosy apartment. Twilight skies seem to go on and on forever in autumn with sumptuous colours of rose, gold and purple. It's a very special kind of light.




I love the wildlife you see here and there in a country town. A simple trip to the shop can be made much more interesting when there is a chance of running across a roe deer, a badger or a fox or my favourites - hedgehogs! While the deer are beautiful and very elegant, they make me wary. A lot of our roads are adjacent to open fields or wooded areas and already once last week we almost hit a deer which came darting out of the trees and across the path of the car. Fortunately, L-G still has quick reflexes and we stopped in time and waited for it to bound away, but I nearly had a heart attack!




As the wind increased, L-G couldn't resist going out to see the view from the harbour where we moor the boat in summer. At home and in the main town square, the wind was howling and I could hardly keep upright (this was before the evening glass of shiraz, by the way...). But you would hardly know it from down by Ljungholmen, which was in lee and looking like a peaceful sepia study crowned with skeletal whiskery trees and the bright orb of the moon.

When a life ends it is always a time for thought and reflection, a sad time, a time to mourn, but also a time to celebrate a person's life and to care for those left behind. It is a time to try to fill an empty space that is yawning wide open, a space vacated by a person who just a short time ago was living, breathing, fighting against a disease that was relentlessly taking them away.

I learned recently that my former mother in law in Adelaide passed away peacefully in late September. There is so much I could write about this lovely woman, but I’d rather not write the details here publicly. However, I can tell you that my mother-in-law was a good person, who always put other people first. She was loving, selfless and always gracious and kind. I am sorry that she has suffered through such a long illness. She is beyond suffering now, and I am glad for that alone.

Riposa i pace, mama.

Last week we visited the cemetery to see the memorial stone that has finally come back from the stonemason. It was a timely visit as it coincided with the All Saint's day holiday.




In Sweden as I mentioned before, we don't have Halloween as is celebrated in North America. We also don't have Thanksgiving, but I think that perhaps last weekend's Alla helgona (All Saints' Day) serves a similar function, even though it is not the same origin.

In Australia, it is not a holiday and in fact All Saints' Day is viewed as a Catholic tradition. In Sweden however, Alla helgona is not necessarily seen as religious, but rather as a day to remember those loved one's we've lost as well as being a celebration of your family and an occasion to gather for a shared meal.





I always find this day just beautiful. At dusk, clusters of families including small children, go to the cemetery bringing candles, flowers and simple wreaths made with pine cones and sprays of conifer leaves. The graves are visited and the loved one remembered. The cemetery overflows with candles and flowers. As you walk through, there are often so many candles that they glow like twinkling stars guiding you. The only time it is more beautiful is on Christmas Eve, when these magical lights are reflected in the glistening snow. Back home you continue the remembrance, but also simply enjoying being together. Stillness.

It has been a really tough year for my family. We have spent many hours trying to console and support each other in the family. I feel a sort of helplessness because old age and illness come to us all in the end. We have to accept it. But it is not easy when it comes so close to home.

The months of autumn in Sweden can be really beautiful. My special favourites are days with blue skies, a carpet of red and yellow leaves on the bright green grass.




On such a day, it can be incredibly cold and crisp in the mornings, with the air as sharp as an icy cold glass of 3 drops sauvignon blanc. Every creature waits until the warming rays of the sun peep above the horizon in order to start their day. Then it becomes a mad rush to get everything done before the sun dips below the horizon again.




It is a veritable episode of Animal Planet here, right outside of my kitchen window, with the jackdaws (kajor) competing digging in the lawn, the squirrels busily scampering to and fro collecting acorns for winter and the occasional hare taking a quick shortcut through the garden on their way to the more sheltered wetlands.




The hare is wise to be alert, because we have also spotted one or two foxes following their trail. These very adaptable creatures seem quite at home in the presence of man and while wary, they don't seem afraid of us. I am aware that people think of them as vermin, but I have always found them shy and charming.




Our home is on the edge of the town, so we have fields and wetlands at the end of the street and the chance to see some of the animals is much greater than if we lived in the middle of town. Though this is a very small town and in fact, it is only a 10 minute walk for me to the main shopping and civic centre. While we were driving to do our main monthly shopping at nearby Nyköping, we saw a beautiful teenage moose in the field by the side of the road.




He or she was not terribly happy that we stopped the car to take a picture and in fact after a tantalisingly short time, it took off to the welcome shelter of the nearby forest, where I spied a second moose around the same age. There was no sign of mum or dad. It was a short but sweet sighting and I am hoping we may see more of them during the winter.

It has been wonderful and sunny during the days. There seem to be literally hundreds and hundreds of tiny birds still here. I thought most smart birds were already sunning themselves on a warm beach, but perhaps not all birds migrate. I see that people have already begun to leave out food for them. On one house, we saw a noisy flock gleefully pecking at a tallow ball.




These little guys are great tits (talgoxe) and very common in the gardens here. While not as spectacular as the cockatoos, galahs and lorikeets that Alaskan Dave gets in his Adelaide garden, they nonetheless appeal to me. There are many varieties of tits around. In size and appearance, they are reminiscent of the perennial Adelaide hills favourite, the fairy wren. We've seen plenty of blue tits (blåmes) and crested tits (tofsmes) as well as my favourite, the cheeky, chubby little long tailed tit (stjärtmes)




Of course, not all of the animal life we see here is of the "wild" variety. There are one or two farms nearby. In the warmer months we used to see cows out in the fields, but it is frosty at night now, so many of them are inside. However the sheep and goats are still around, hopefully approaching if you stop, no doubt anticipating a feed.




Sometimes, if you are very lucky, you may see a very regal little poodle making her daily scenic rounds, enjoying the sea air and checking out the sights. In her own special carriage.




Honestly, what kind of mad person cycles around town with a poodle in their carry basket. Then comes home and offers the excuse that she doesn't like walking? No wonder she is getting a little tubby.

The red walls of the houses in the sunshine seem to enhance the whole cosy atmosphere. The days are shorter and that has also its own kind of magic. It is a reminder that soon it will be time for thick, warm socks and a big steaming cup of tea.

A northern hemisphere autumn holds a very special place in my heart. It has become my favourite season as everything begins to wind down, with even nature taking a deep breath after the short but franticly intense summer slowing down, preparing for a winter rest.

Autumn is also a timely reminder of what is to come - the dreaded cold of winter. But that is still a little way off. For now, there I can enjoy taking a long stroll in the forests listening to the crunch of colourful leaves under foot, to listen to the gentle whisper of the birch trees swishing and swaying in the wind, to the sound of the sea, those quiet waters lapping on the shores, feel the chilly wind caressing my face and keeping me feeling awake and alive. And above all, there is that certain quietness. I could sit by the shore looking out to the sea for hours, just doing nothing, just listening...

How many people are as fortunate as me to be able to experience this? Indeed I am truly blessed.

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the planet. I haven't fallen asleep in my soup. Well, not lately anyway...

I haven't even won the lottery and gone off on a long sundrenched vacation in the Bahamas. I have no excuse for my prolonged absence here, other than the fact that I just don't have enough hours in the day to do all that I want to do and wish to do.

It has been an awful sort of year anyway. Just before Christmas, my mother-in-law became quite ill. We spent a lot of time in Stockholm with her and she sadly died in early April.

Since then, we have been busy with her funeral and of course the general winding up of her estate, which is still ongoing. It all takes a lot of emotional energy.

Because we just love complete chaos, we also moved towns - AGAIN. I know, I know, we only moved to Vadstena not so long ago, but we missed the archipelago, I sure as hell did not want to go sailing in Vättern again, we lived next door to the neighbour from hell and it was just too far from family and friends. So, in April, the same week that Evy died, we moved to Oxelösund. I swear to God, it was either move or hire a hitman to solve the neighbour problem. So, we are back on the east coast again and much closer to Stockholm.




Then we had the saga of Lambi being ill, having to be rushed to hospital and having a full hysterectomy, though you will be happy to hear that she is back to her little bossy self now. She has just finished celebrating her fifteenth birthday and the vet assures us that she could still have another 5 years (or more) left in her.

The news was not as good for our dear little cockatiels, with Sheila dying in August while we were out sailing. It just has not been a happy year.

It was not all doom and gloom, though. The absolute high point came in July, L-G became a grandpa for the first time, which was a big thrill and has done something towards redressing the emotional balance of the year. L-G is very happy and using the line "But I'm a grandpa now!" as an excuse to get out of doing anything physical, claiming he's earned the right to sit back and stay in a rocking chair now.

I will be posting about our summer sailing over the winter months, but for now, it's all about autumn. I love the autumn in Sweden. It is my favourite time of year. I love the sights and smells and there seems to be a different feel in the air. It's like summer's last hurrah before the cold winter sets in. I love the sound of dry leaves skittering across the footpaths. I love the warm days and cooler nights.





We are lucky to have a wetlands area just a short walk from our home, so the chances of seeing more birdlife, while certainly not on the same scale as we had at Lake Tåkern, the numbers and varieties of birds are enough to keep us happy.




The sun is still shining here, but the days are markedly shorter now as we head towards the winter solstice and the darkness. The leaves are doggedly hanging on to the trees this year, so it is still not as dreary as it can be in November, with a few splashes of gold to cheer our day. Snows and frosts are heading our way, so this may not last too much longer, so I'm enjoying it while I can. If it is one thing I've learned this year, it is how fleeting life can be and I intend to grab every opportunity for enjoyment that I can.

Great to be back online again.