Abbas

Take me to church part 2

Back at Nobbelov church today for more pancakes, or "pannkaka" as they call them in Swedish.  Not a pretty sight.  Quality control was lacking today - see picture of burned pancakes below.  Who would serve such a thing to a customer??  And mine weren't exactly kosher either.  They were dry and crispy around the edges.  I'm deprived of pancakes at home.  Most go to the kids.  So I suppose beggars can't be choosers, but this was a little over the top.  I will try again tomorrow with my fingers crossed.  For the record, the church volunteers are a friendly and hospitable bunch.

This amazing 7 year old Icelandic girl - the one on the right in the picture - who has befriended my 5 year old, can speak 3 languages fluently:  Icelandic, Danish, and English.  Her English is almost entirely self taught via YouTube.  The first time I heard her speak, I thought she was at least half American.  Her father told me she picked up Danish in a few weeks after she moved in with her mother to Denmark.  Below is a drawing she made of her plans with my daughter today.  Her father's fiance said she was excited to see Johanna and do all the things she'd mapped out below that morning.  Simply amazing!

Take me to church!

6-30-2015:  Every time I visit Sweden, I take away a memory or two that lasts me a lifetime.  Some are good, some bad, and some downright depressing, enough to make a grown man cry; like the time I filled up my father-in-law's gas tank to the tune of $100+.  This visit was no different.  Here's what I'll remember for as long as I have my faculties together:

For the past few summers, I've been eating yummy pancakes for 20 Swedish Krona - $2.40 at the current exchange rate - at the Nobbelov Church in Lund, built in the 12th century.  Every summer, they hold a kids arts and crafts program  from Tuesdays through Thursdays, and today was the first of this summer season's.  At 12 p.m., the church bells ring for a few minutes, and the volunteer workers drop everything and mosey their way into church like zombies.   For breakfast/brunch, they serve coffee, tea, fruit juice, cookies, pancakes and a couple of other miscellaneous breakfast items I can't name.  The attendees are old people and mothers with kids, but every now and then a father shows up.  I go to church for pancakes only.  Just today, I had two plates full.  Swedish pancakes are really crepes, but they call them pancakes.  I spoke to a church Choir leader today, a lady in her 60's.  She said she'd just come back from NY for her son's 30th birthday, and the pancakes there were very "thick".

The last time I came to Lund was a couple of years ago.  On our visit downtown this year, there must've been a beggars' convention in force.  There was one in every corner, and sometimes just a couple of stores apart.  These are the Roma.  They come from Bulgaria and Romania primarily, and their numbers have doubled in just one year.  I'd never seen any in Lund before.  This is a sad state of affairs, and downtown Lund isn't quite as desirable as it used to be.  The Swedish government has been seemingly powerless to stop them.  "We have seen this group grow every year. This is about discrimination and poverty in their home countries, which don't live up to their responsibilities. It's difficult to predict the future, but I think we need to get used to the thought that this situation will continue to be the norm," said Marina Johansson, representing the Social Democrats in Gothenburg's municipality."

And can someone please import these to the U.S. supermarkets???

Handbaskets with wheels - what a concept!

Clear the way for this fat man - Gulp!

This guy comes outta nowhere - I'm guessing at least 300 lb. - and begins putting on moves to the Moonshine band playing vintage blues on stage on the last day of the Sawdust Festival in Laguna Beach.  At times, he would get within a few feet of me, and I'd feel the wooden deck tremble beneath my feet. I'll be honest, the thought of him falling on me briefly crossed my mind, but I'm proud to say I lived to tell the story.

When IKEA's got you by the balls

Anyone who has been to IKEA at least once is keenly aware of the gigantic baffling maze the layout of these stores are, and how escaping without a purchase is virtually impossible.  I bet top dollar IKEA has hired design consultants to break down the shoppers' bearings in an attempt to get them to travel the farthest distance from entrance to exit.  There are hidden or disguised shortcuts throughout, but they're better kept secrets than In 'N Out Hamburgers' underground menu.

Now imagine your 4 year old throws a tantrum, just long enough distance away from the entrance, and you threaten to take her back to the car!!!

The downward spiral began today when both of my daughters were told there was a 30 minute wait for the playroom.  Translation:  It ain't happening.  We were shopping for one item and weren't about to wait.  As we walked away from the playroom, the younger one slowed down, which is not exactly how we preferred to navigate this obstacle course.  Then when I told her I'd take her back to the car, she began crying defiantly.  So I picked her up and carried her a few feet before I realized I have to pass at least a few dozen shoppers, and then a healthy crowd at the check out counters, all over a long distance while my daughter was having none of it.  I immediately parked it in a secluded corner and told her if she stayed calm for 10 seconds, I'd let her down.  She demanded I put her down first.  I, of course, refused.  This negotiation went on for a couple of minutes before she relented to my surprise.

The moral of the story is, unless you're near the check out counter, not only does IKEA own you, but so does your little one.

Intelligent design at work - Part 1

The lord works in mysterious ways... 30 giant hornets kill and maim 30,000 bees in 3 hours, a kill ratio not seen since Pizarro's 150 men massacred 2,000 Inca Indians and lost only 5 or fewer of their own in the Battle of Cajamarca in 1532, when the Incas refused to convert to Christianity.

Is the pen mightier than the sword?

Helena broke a kids glass this morning, and Elin, my first grader wrote this note to me in secret, obviously proud of her new-found writing skills.  It was precisely at this moment that I realized the pen is mightier than the sword, and how quickly a novice writer can expose the guilty so effortlessly....