Quest

Image of the Day:  Teeny tiny toad leaping across the road.


Hej Hej!  That's Swedish for hello! Hello!  My family and I took a trip to Sweden a couple of weeks ago and it was so gorgeous.  We stayed on the Island of Vaxholm and took ferry rides out to different islands and to Stockholm.  (I discovered that Sweden has an archipelago several years ago when my boss visited there.)  The shoreline and coast of Vaxholm was so similar to the coast line of Maine it was like I was visiting home.  I definitely could live there.  The Swedish people know their boats--we took a rented boat ride around the island by Beorn who built his own steam boat from mahogany wood and Siberian larch.  It had the feel of a train.  We ate lots of silky salmon and herring, pickled and fresh.  The fresh was so good--I'm on a quest to find local herring and make my own sauces for it.  I also purchased a rolling pin to make knickebrod--the crispy rye bread that went with everything. 


The flight home was fine but eight hours--lots of movie watching.  I got a strange sort of domestic surge when I got home--cleaning out pantry cupboards and canning blueberry conserve, peach jam and chutney.  The chutney didn't work out though and I had to ultimately toss it--after making three attempts to adjust the recipe and get it taste of something other than mustard seed and vinegar.  Maybe next year I'll try chutney again. I did manage to make some yummy gravlax:  cured salmon in my own fridge.  Here's an open face sandwich on my regular homemade bread.  It was yummy!

My son and I tried to memorize this Swedish poem before we went over.  You can listen to it here.  I translated it when I was doing my translation seminar.  Here is my translation: 

Philomela

The little pink buds

contract in my head

marvelous

I see out, it is hushed

dark whispering sounds come

my tongue buried under stone

my head finds no rest

even when the tongue was sliced from its cords

the voice was left inside

how could my head find rest

lilac-blue was the weft woven round me

hear, how sound
varies        it is a voice that lifts you

my tongue is buried, my ear shouts
my robe has gone, my head sings