In loving memory

To the woman who brought three beautiful baby girls into this world and raised them to believe in themselves as strong, good-hearted women

To the woman who loved my husband -- her grandson -- and all of her grandchildren with all her heart

To the woman who flew thousands of miles across the Atlantic to dance at our wedding with a laugh and a smile in her beautiful blue dress

To the woman who held her great-grandchildren close and shared gentle smiles of understanding with them, and who filled their drawers with handmade sweaters and socks

To the woman who always impressed me with her honesty and her ability to tell it like it was, but never with an ounce of criticism in her voice

To the woman who shared stories of her life with those of us who were lucky enough to be around her

To the woman who fourteen years ago accepted me, a stranger, into her family as if I'd never been outside of it

You may have left this world, but you will never leave our hearts.

Mormor, we miss you so much.

How is this possible?

I have not often used this forum as a soapbox for my political or social views, but yesterday I saw something that I feel I have to share.

If you know me well, you know that my first passion is humanitarian work. I have always been a firm believer in the idea that I am where I am -- blessed with an amazing life, food on the table every day, a healthy family -- only through the luck of birth. That luck, in my view, requires that I give something back.

Pay it forward.

Or pay it back.

Whatever you want to call it.

Danish TV is currently running a series of documentary films, many of which I have seen, many of which are meant to make the viewer think, feel, cry or laugh.

Last night's the station showed Darwin's Nightmare, a film about how the previously thriving economy of the region around Lake Victoria in Africa was ruined by the introduction of Nile Perch into the lake.

The perch fillets are in high demand in Europe, which has led to a somewhat suspect industry involving Russian cargo planes, accusations of arms smuggling, and thousands of local children who melt the fish packaging to turn it into glue they can sniff. Daily. Not to mention the wars that plague the area, which are not necessarily related to the fish.

Try to get your head around this:

"In the Eastern Congo alone, the casualties of war on each single day equal the number of deaths on September 11th in New York." (Darwin's Nightmare website)

An African journalist covering the story stated that half of Tanzania's 14 million citizens must live on less than $1 per day.

One dollar.

7.85 Swedish kroner.

5.27 Danish kroner.

That's an income per person of $365 per year.

Have you ever had to survive for any extended period of time on less than one dollar per day?

I know that journalists can spin a story to get a certain, pre-determined message across. Still, the images in that film of how this particular part of humanity live were shocking, frightening and depressing.

See the film (for info on the movie, click here)!

The next generation

Now that school's out for the summer, Lucas and I are alone on the bus in the morning. He goes to a summer-fun program at his school and I go to work. We often have enlightening (read: mind-boggling) conversations that leave me laughing and bubbly with the wonder of children.

Today's gem was this:

Lucas: Mom, do you know what I'm going to name my first child?

Me: No....

Lucas: Gohan!

Me: Oooooh, ok. (In my defense, I really tried not to roll my eyes!!!!)

Lucas: And do you know what Matthew is going to name his kid?

Me (now a bit apprehensive...): Nope.

Lucas: Trunk!

Me: Like "T-R-U-N-K" trunk?

Lucas (thinks about it a bit...): Yep!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is your first introduction to children of the future.

Moving out?

Although he's still obsessed with shoes (an obsession fuelled by a pair of new, cool orange sandals), Nicholas has found himself a new liking -- a suitcase. With Winnie The Pooh. And wheels on the bottom. That he got from his Bedstefar and Bedstemor last weekend.

He takes it with him everywhere, but what worries me most is when he comes in the house, grabs it, and heads up the street with it rolling along behind him. Like this:

"Nicholas!!!!!", I call.

He turns, looks at me, laughs and even waves...

and then keeps on going.

You had to be there

I'm a fan of family traditions.

Anyone who has married, fallen in love or had children knows that such events give the opportunity to create new traditions as well as carry on old, cherished ones. For example, tomorrow we will celebrate a relatively new tradition in our little family -- the Swedish midsummer celebration... we'll dance around a flowery pole, eat new potatoes and herring, and party! We did it last year and we'll do it again . Thanks Eva and Steven in advance for what I'm sure will be a great time!

Our latest "refurbished" tradition is the annual gathering of the Pedersen clan, which used to happen once a year at a safari park in Denmark (sorry, no time right now to answer your questions about why there is a safari park in Denmark...), but this year was re-launched at Bedstemor and Bedstefar's cabin in southern Sweden.

We joined countless numbers of Pedersens, Andersens, Jensens (and one Poulsen... or maybe I should say two since Susanne has a growing belly care of Mr. Poulsen -- congratulations!!) for two days of fun. And as the title says, you just had to be there.

Planned events included the summer edition of the Vasa ski race -- an interesting little competition that requires teamwork and a whooooole bunch of duct tape... and no, what you see on our feet here is not enough duct tape...

The race had us all laughing so hard we should have been wearing diapers...

Hey guys! You're going the wrong way!

My team's first casualty!

We played toilet-paper-roll binocular soccer (that's "crazy ootball" for those of you who don't hail from the US). Believe me when I tell you that these pictures will present you with the latest in fashionable headwear... and these binoculars keeps the sun out of your eyes!

Notice that there is no sign whatsoever of a soccer ball in any of these photos....

Except this one... but here the ball is behind the players!

The men built a big bonfire, where the kids (and the kid-like adults, including me) roasted marshmallows and ate makeshift s'mores.

We shared memories in the evening, looking through slides of the family that were all taken well before I was even a thought in my in-law's mind.

And the next day we lounged in the sun, chatting and relaxing. (here you can see Susanne's beautiful growing tummy...)

Thank you, svigerfar and svigermor, for a GREAT weekend and a terrific, new tradition!

Today's bonus photo is of my handsome oldest son. I think it's a great shot of him, even though he's angry with me. Isn't he a heartbreaker? How do they get this big so fast?

Another point of view

Matthew, soon to be a fifth-grade graduate, is an avid reader and writer. One of his last assignments for this school year was to rewrite a children's story from another character's point of view. I was so impressed by his version that I thought I'd share it with you.

GOLDILOCKS -- BABY BEAR’S POINT OF VIEW

One morning, when I woke, I could smell the smell of porridge wafting into my room. I went downstairs and said:

”Porridge. Nam nam” (this was my special language at that time).

Mama Bear (my mother) explained to me:

”Yes. It is porridge for breakfast, but it’s still quite hot. We’ll go for a little walk in the forest, and then come back when the porridge has cooled off”.

And so we did. There were very many interesting objects to see (this was my first time in the forest). The thing I liked the most was a strange structure just outside the forest. It was made of stone and something that looked like super-hard mud. There was even smoke (I’m almost sure it was smoke) coming out of it. Papa Bear (my father) told me this was a house which humans lived in. He also said that humans are the second most intelligent creatures on the planet (of course, we’re the smartest).

When we came to a large clearing in the woods, Mama Bear exclaimed:

”Why don’t we take a power nap? The porridge is probably still too hot for Baby Bear”. Papa Bear agreed and we all settled down to rest.

About twenty minutes later, we woke up and started to walk back to our cave (house) and rest. I was the first one to reach the cave. As I tried the door, it opened with ease. I cried:

”De tor up!” (this meant: the door is open!).

”Oh no. We forgot to lock the door, Papa Bear!” Mama Bear said, the frustration crystal-clear in her voice.

We went inside. When I sat down on my seat, I noticed my porridge bowl was empty.

”Buuuuhaa. Porridge gone!”

”Don’t worry,” said Mama Bear, ”I’ll make you some new porridge”.

I went into the living room to sit and wait on my special bear chair. When I came in I saw my chair was broken into pieces.

”Buhaaaaa. Chair broken!”

My parents came rushing in to see what happened.

Then Papa Bear said:

”Don’t worry. I’ll make you a new one.”

I went up to check the bedroom.

”Papa Bey. Mama Bey!” In they came. ”Sniff, sniff. Girly in bed. Scare!”

Papa Bear replied:

”Alright. I’ll scare her. ROOOAAAR”

She woke up, and screamed. Then she was gone. I still don’t know where she is. But I have this one strand of golden hair…

THE END