The weather’s changing. Every day increasing wind, foreboding clouds, and cool damp air . . . promise of rain . . . just a wet kiss, but we all know the big one’s coming. Neighbors batten hatches, wax their cars, trim hedges, fertilize the lawn and cut grass for last time. Time to store lawn furniture, umbrellas, barbeques . . . take in the plants that might sleep though the long dark months. We change to studded tires this week—the law here, one that I approve of.
Christmas decorations start appearing in October. I’ve already seen TV adds selling Christmas cards and decorated glassware . . . little angels. Celebration ends in March. There were still Christmas wreaths on front door when we moved in. Soon windows will soon be filled with candle lights. I think this is the Swedish way of getting through the winter, and there’s alcohol, of course. But we’re way down the list of heavy drinkers. Ireland’s at the top, then Czech Republic, Germany and Russia.
This will be old news for many of you . . . been there, done that, more than once, but it’s completely new to me. I come from California, and Seattle which has something they call winter, lots of rain. It snows once or twice and freezes sometimes . . . not that often. Not like here.
Kind of exciting . . . scary? Swedish winter. I could freeze to death on my way to the mailbox. A trip to the grocery store turns into a Donner Party experience. I was happy to be done cutting the yard. Now I’ll be shoveling snow; there’s no escape. People go mad here in the long dark nights.