Image is taken from the website: spiralwishingwells.com

But she also does house size sculptures. Here are some pics of her work along with her husband Kjell’s at an exhibit of their work.Open house at their studio is October 4th to coordinate with the opening of the Värmland Art Exibit.

And of course anyone who was at 0ur wedding will recognize this:that’s all folks! pretty amazing, eh?

There’s something wonderfully satisfying about the fact that her stone is in a graveyard where her family has been buried for hundreds of years.

And then of course there are the friends of friends: Here are we, Kjell and I, (more fika!) with Gunvor, a wildly talented film artist and Yana, who is married to a wonderful painter. She’s now filling her retirement with travel. St. Petersburg next!This picture is in Lorraine’s backyard. She’s a fairly spectacular gardener!

The forests are full of these unbelievably quaint little cabins. Here’s their cabin on a snowy winter day. You’ll notice they’re all painted a wonderful red color. This is called Falun Red. It comes from an area up near the copper mines. They had all this run off from the mines and turned it into paint. Apparently when it’s time for repainting, you brush it off and repaint, no scraping. Something about the high mineral content… Nope they don’t export it!

Another common color for houses is yellow. It cheers you up, I guess in the long winter darkness. This darling, old, house, lies across the channel from town. It can only be reached by ferry. Apparently, the one thing that mars its beauty is that summer cottages are supposed to face the afternoon sun, this has more of a morning sun direction. Tsk. Obviously not worth the money, despite the fabulous gingerbread and wonderful old windows. And wouldn’t that little summer house be a great place to eat cinnamon bread?

As I said, Sweden is fairly wooded still. They’re very good when they do take timber to rebuild. This guy appreciates it a lot. He was along when Kjell and Lorraine were picking mushrooms. Yikes!

It has held a large part of my heart for the 40 years since I arrived here as an exchange student. I discovered a lot in this town about who I was, how I communicated and how I made friends and family. The year has stood me in good stead my entire life.

Mostly this week I visited my dear friend Lorraine and her partner Kjell. Their two boys (young men, I should say: Niklas is 25 and Åke is 22) came to visit at the end of the week. Although we actually had to drive to Oslo on Wednesday to fetch Åke and all his stuff. He’s moving from Oslo to Stockholm. Sunday Lorraine and Kjell drove to Stockholm to dump him and his stuff at his new home. We’re all waiting on tenterhooks to see if his new job as a hotel bellhop materializes! Hold your thumbs, as they say here.

On Tuesday, we drove out and took a fika (a little picnic with coffee/tea/sandwiches and sweet bread. um yum) to their little cabin. We sat right on that porch. Kjell and Lorraine are great at taking their fika along wherever they go. Sweden is filled w/ lakes. Here’s Kjell sitting by one.But it’s not all picnics. Sometimes they go out and pick mushrooms so visitors from far away can have mushroom soup when they get there. Here are the 4 kilo (8.8#) chanterelles they picked for soup and freezer.This means it’s the end of summer. The picture below: Lorraine, Ann, Bean Soup and Pancakes means it’s Thursday in Sweden!And that’s plenty of picnics for one post! Pretty fun over here!

I managed or will manage quiet time with everyone but my youngest sister Ulrika… we’ll have to figure that out. This is everyone (Cecelia, Louise, Per, Ulrika, Margita) outside the church. Did I ‘fess up it was built in 1748 and that only one wall was from the 1200s?

Last night I visited the church for a vespers service. Maria Ottensten, the priest at Barbro’s mass, was preaching. It was interesting to listen to a sermon (how does she keep them so short?) and to watch the rhythm of things as they unfolded. It was a lovely service in the same beautiful church that Mamma was buried from.

Then today I took a long train ride through the countryside to get to my friend lorraine’s. It’s a wonderful trip along rivers and bonds and lakes. The woods are gorgeous and so are the swedish summer houses that the train rumbles by. Pretty wonderful!

I’ll have pictures tomorrow of the siblings and the coffin. Odd you think to have pictures of a coffin? It’s just so different. Very simple wooden box. And then a blanket (maybe 8 inches deep) of beautiful summer flowers in pink and blue and purple. A few people had sent flowers, but they were so simple, not the big displays we have. One of her friends sent an armful of flowers and this sweetly personal note to Barbro about what a good friend she’d been, using Barbro’s pet name, which I hadn’t heard for years. It seemed so right that the note be to barbro.

I’ve been wrong about the church (or rather and, isn’t this a surprise, wikipedia has been wrong). There’s a wall from the 1200s and most of the church was built in 1748. Very simple cross shaped small church. It was only family, but that still was 30+ people and the way the seats are laid out, it felt just right. (Just FYI, there WAS a bathroom and it WAS accessible!)

The churchyard was gorgeous. The graves were mostly family graves, so they were large. many of them had dirt or gravel on top which had been raked into simple patterns. The very old graves list not just birth and death dates but also professions. So you see not only who they are, but how people in this area earned a living. (lots of boat makers and attendant industries!)

The priest was very friendly and warm. There were lots of songs. 3 solos and 2 hymns. (Somewhat unfortunate that they weren’t hymns anyone knew and music wasn’t provided. No one sang. When we talked about it later, one of the sisters said that swedes don’t really sing in church even people who go!) Little Mozart, little Handel.

It went so well. Mamma would have been glad I think. And the family seemed glad and surprised to remember Mamma as a woman who forged her own life. It’s sometimes hard with an older person who has suffered as much as Barbro did during this last year, to remember that before, there was so much more. I got to do my work for a woman I loved deeply. It feels like such an honor. I’m grateful for the gift, for Barbro and for my Swedish Siblings who have knitted me into the family.

Let me recommend sending a child abroad to be an exchange student to every parent out there. You never know how it will change your life to have family everywhere in the world! (Oh, and Steve, honey bunny, I invited Cecelia’s daughter home to study with you before she goes off to music school. Thought I’d tell you here where you can’t protest!)

Well, after 12 hours of sleep I’m a much happier camper, although still a little concerned how my swedish speechifying will go over. My friend Gunilla helped me with the translation and now i need to figure out how those words fit in my mouth and make sure that they reeeealy mean what i want to say… Erik has done another pass, so i can mix things up a bit. Have to sound like Ann whichever language I speak in! Bring on the swedish/english/swedish dictionary!

Barbro will be celebrated in a small family gathering in a chapel from the 1200s. Lots more to say tomorrow. Then after the ceremony we’ll go back to Barbro’s apartment for dinner. That will be painful. I have so many memories in that place. She was such a kind woman and there was so much sitting in the kitchen over tea and talking, or sitting on the sofa side by side each doing one’s own thing. My Swedish brother Per said it best perhaps: She was a good mamma… to them and to me. What a lucky woman I am!

Coming to the Gothenburg airport was a kick. I sat on the plane beside a young woman from Afghanistan. Neither her English or her Swedish were fabulous, so we had to do a lot of smiling and nodding! But Sweden which was always such a mono-culture is now teaming with people from all over the world. It’s so incredibly diverse. I’m not here enough, so I’m always startled when Africans/Chinese/Iranian children go dashing by chattering in Swedish.

Had a wonderful meeting with the priest yesterday. Who seemed very pleased to have me participate (and equally pleased that I’d only wanted to do the eulogy!). It’s always a question. Things are often done just so in the State Church, so it was nice to get an easy priest. She’d been in Chicago to study Homiletics at the Lutheran School of Theology and is currently writing a book on Homiletics. It’ll be interesting to read. We’re exchanging books!

Staying with Margita, who was the next sister down from me (in the 5 sibs, she’s the middle). We’ve been laughing a lot. Her two daughters are home, one from Paris, where she’s about to look for a job as a graphic designer, the other who’s going to school in a subject my swedish hasn’t yet exactly grasped but has to do with clothing design/manufacturing/marketing. Her son will be back from the army where he’s part of the last year of obligatory service. Family, wherever they are are wonderful to have.

It’s so wonderful that Margita and Cecelia were at the wedding and met many of the players in my life. They stayed with Deb when I married, so they feel close and interested with her as well. Margita and Ihave been listening to a cd that Steve’s group recorded of Greg’s songs. We’ve been talking about Mamma and making preparations for the dinner.

I need to take advantage of the time and play with the dictionary a bit. and have another coup of tea. i’m in sweden after all! maybe there should be another cheese sammich. what do you think?

I’ll work on the picture thing!

Puss och Kram… (swedish for xoxo!)

ann

Some of you may know that I’m off to Sweden for two weeks. 40 years ago this month, I flew to Sweden (my very first flight ever) to become an exchange student for my senior year of High School. Today, I’m flying back to perform a memorial for my Swedish “Mamma.” I am so privileged to do my work!

I’ll be providing color commentary from the trip, right here. If you’re interested, check in! Probably some wedding tips as well! And yes, pastry descriptions!

Before I left for Sweden, however, I went to NYC with my cousin Nancy to deliver a quilt that my Nancy had made. It was supposed to be me… but I’m not all that crafty. Nancy had agreed to help and took pity on my woeful skills. Now instead of a wavy, wandering quilt, Hannah has a fabulous quilt. Each square is a piece of her mom’s clothing. Disclosure: there is more quilting to be done.

(Back story, Hannah’s mom died two years ago. A neighbor of Hannah and her dad Steve’s is in charge of the chaplains at NYC Hospice program and suggested this. Steve called Aunt Ann. I picked up a bunch of Maggie’s clothes this spring. Steve airlifted a bunch more. I enlisted Nancy’s help — I had no idea what i was asking her to do. Nancy’s side of the family got the crafty gene!)

So many people have had their hands on the quilt. They have moved squares around at my sister Deb’s 4th of July Party. They have checked on Nancy’s progress in the neighborhood and at the Y. People have seen, have wept and celebrated. It was blessed by hands and hearts at a UU church service. It’s gorgeous. It’s all Maggie and Hannah didn’t take it off her lap until we left for dinner! Here are three pics to give you an idea what it looks like, what it felt like when she received it and what that no-longer-little girl looks like in Aunt Ann’s arms.

This is what it looked like as she was unfolding it.

this is what it looks like and how it will be on her bed at school. There were notes in pockets and you could unbutton buttons and find little things that made it tug even harder on heartstrings! (Chocka dej själv idag is, interestingly, swedish. Steve got the Tshirt the summer before he met Maggie, and soon enough, it was one of her favorite running shirts. It means “Surprise yourself today!” Given my Swedish connection and the fact that she’s going off to school and this is a great motto, it seemed particularly wonderful to have it there)

This is how it feels when a whole world of friends and strangers creates a labor of love for you. I’m not sure who was crying harder. OK, me. It’s gorgeous! There’s more quilting to do, but that will be a visit or two to Middlebury in the years ahead! Couldn’t be sweeter!

You may not know everyone in your village, but if you’re doing something fun and sweet and transformative, everyone wants to play a role. We all got to touch the sky with this. If you had a part, even patting it in blessing, thanks so much. My girl will be safe and warm at college and for the rest of her life thanks to your sweet hearts! It’s nice to think of a village stitched together in love, isn’t it?