Home. For the past week, we've been home. Just not in Copenhagen.
Swedish blog friend Anna offered her exquisite, yes I said exquisite, home to us, for a whole week. Only happy to oblige, we trundled off to Stockholm last Saturday.
We felt welcome, oh so welcome.
We were told to make ourselves at home, play with the toys, eat what the garden had to offer.
We love Stockholm. Been there many times now, both of us. Last year, it was a short three day stay at a hostel on the way home to Denmark from Finland.
It was a great trip, and we loved some of the attractions so much, that we did them again this time around!
Like the children's tour of Moderna, where an art teacher brings it down a notch for the youngest visitors, introducing an artist to them in terms they understand, and then after the 40 minute tour of the exhibition, leading them to try their own hand at creating art in the same style. Fabulous concept, loved by all in the family.
At Moderna, believe it or not, we ran into one of my oldest friends in Denmark, Lise, and her boyfriend and baby (turns out they were in Stockholm last year when we were there as well, honestly!). We had a quick chat and made a dinner date for later. Then they hopped a metro out to the lush suburb where we were staying, and we treated them to homemade pizzas and homegrown squash blossoms, stuffed with ricotta, gardenside.
We enjoyed dessert, aka the baby, inside.
Next day, we met up with Emi at Millesgården, just like last year. We shot the breeze amongst the many statues, and children running around. Since we'd borrowed Anna's car for the day trip, Emi invited us to her home, not far away. Apologetically saying that she had to work that evening, that there was only time for a quick lemonade, we were getting ready to leave when her husband came home and started making us dinner. I guess we just have that effect on people.
So we sat outside in the garden and ate, their friend Thomas joined us, and I very nearly puked over this view. Having a forest in your backyard should be illegal people! The conversation was lovely, and Emi and husband are so relaxed with their children, who played so well with ours: Joel and Dante on Wii, Niki and Halfdan in the garden plucking raspberries - it was lovely. When we left, their oldest Vanja suddenly gave me a tight hug goodbye, and I almost couldn't take anymore.
The rest of the week was a blur really. We just enjoyed ourselves at home for the majority. Gathered gooseberries, eating most of them them straightaway, but still having plenty left over.
Sat in the sun or the shade, reading, watercoloring, staring into space...
Oh we took a walk now and again, even found this great example of guerilla knitting by Mariatorget.
But really, we just played house. I got up, did laundry, hung it to dry, mowed the lawn, watered the veggies, took the laundry down, folded it, put it away, drank white wine, stared at the boys, doing...whatever.
The deceptive part was just that - feeling at home. Just like in Morocco. And not only feeling at home, but meeting up with friends, maintaining bonds with places and people that we feel comfortable around. And then, all of a sudden, a train awaits to carry us back to that other home in a parallel dimension where we, you know, have to do stuff, and not just want to. It's okay, I'm looking forward to getting in the groove again. Dante starts school here in Copenhagen next week, so we had to come back. I do find my self wondering how fast he could learn Swedish though...