Tired. Wiped out. Exhausted. Drained. Sleepy. Fatigued. Zoning. Driving with half-lights.* That’s me after this long long long busy busy busy day. Too busy to surf the web, too busy to post in my journal, too busy to do anything but all the million things that need to be done. Our giant print piece is nearly ready to go to the printer tomorrow and I’ll be SO GLAD when it’s gone. Final changes and final proofreading in the morning and then it’s off my desk and (nearly) out of my hands for this round. My Day: up shower dress, get...

Blommande sköna dalar, hem för mitt hjärtas ro! Lummiga gröna salar, där vår och kärlek bo! Soliga barn av luft och ljus, o jag förstår ert tysta sus. Blommande sköna dalar, hem för mitt hjärtas ro. Kom, du, min vän, i skogen, kom vid min sida sjung. Skogen är evrigt trogen, våren är evrigt ung. Livet förgår som kvällens fläkt, evig är vårens andedräkt. Kom, du, min vän, i skogen, kom vid min sida sjung.

The new issue of Mosaic Minds is up with all content, except for the first page, since our webwoman is in the middle of moving and there was a bit of a kerfluffle with passwords. Otherwise, I think this was the smoothest issue so far, and I’m quite pleased with it. I submitted my story, The Amusements Are Waiting, and wrote a poem, called Robin Confesses, which I’m extremely happy about since it’s the first time I’ve sat down and written a poem in AGES. Plus, my sister has an excellent poem, about our Great Grandma Beebe, in this issue...

Juniper bushes are bearing waxy blue buds, bleeding hearts hang heavy on their bushes. Walking across the green clipped expanse of the park space hidden in the middle of Flyinge’s neighborhoods, the sky looks immense. I almost feel I could flip upside down and float up into it. Gravity could stop working any minute. The pink blossoms of the cherry trees are snowing down with every breeze, and drifting in piles against the edges of paths and curbs. The lilacs are bursting among their isoceles-shaped droopy leaves in every nuance from white to lavender to royal purple. Spirea smells like...

Work projects are heating up. Busy busy. Life is heating up, too. My schedule for the next two weeks just went ballistic.

Being a daughter who loves her mother, I always send my mom flowers for Mother’s Day. Despite it being a clichéd thing to do, I know she loves flowers and I know she loves GETTING them, and I know I love getting them and I even like GIVING them, so it’s a win-win situation all around. Since I’m living in Sweden, I use the internet to order flowers and other goodies, and since a few years back I’ve been using 1-800-flowers.com to order flowers for my mom. This year, I was ready. I placed my order 2 weeks in advance,...

Out in the fields, the evening sun is slowing moving aside a white swath of foggy cloud. For a moment, it’s as though it’s rising instead of setting. Clover and cowslip muster along the dirt road and the gravel lies in the triangular patterned ridges that tractors have left behind. A magpie startles and then swoops into flight, the double white flash of its wing markings slice the air. Off in the distance, fields of rape glow in golden patches. On one side a seemingly infinite carpet of green moves wavily over the fields all the way to Holmby church....

I’ve never been drunk in my life. I’ve never really seen the need. But I’m drunk now…on Spring. It’s intoxicating. You don’t even have to ingest anything*, it just fills you up with joy automatically. I’ve started going for a power walk each evening after I put the kids in bed and Karin is safely asleep. It’s so light out, even at 8:30 that it feels like late, late afternoon, even though the sun is streaking orange and pink behind the trees. One allé is lined with tall wild pear trees. Their branches are stretched and curled and covered with...

I have an interview in 2 weeks!!