Det finns ingen vinter här = There is no winter here (thoughts on snow, ice, roller skis and joy)
I don't want to write this post. But at this point, I'm resigned to the fact that we won't get a true winter in southern Sweden. The Swedes also seem to be resigned to this, as do the flowers. A bit hard to see but the crocus and other spring bulbs are already starting to push through the dirt in the picture to the left. I love winter. I love snow. One of the reasons we moved to Sweden for the year was to really get to experience winter- to be able to put on cross country skis and go ski out our door. We keep laughing at ourselves, as it turns out Stockholm doesn't actually get that much snow in the winter. A bit of geography research and we could have figured that out. As November grayed into December, we enjoyed the holiday lights and were assured that come the new year, the temperatures would plummet. We'd get plenty of ice and even maybe some snow. In August, Chris and Stephen were running around a nearby lake: people were training on how to self-rescue