Monday, February 18, 2013

A Lot of Crying

Greetings from sunny, warm Sweden,

Okay...maybe not so sunny...or warm; unless you count the radiators.

This will be day 5 of my long awaited vacation, but between the birthday; mine, numerous family reunions, a bit of screaming; not mine, and a lot of crying; all mine, today is the first day where I actually find myself being on vacation. Meaning lots of time, where there's little to do.
Yes, I should be writing , but in all the pre-travel stress, I accidentally--despite the fact that Freud said there are no accidents--left my laptop and Flash Drive at home in the States. This of course means I can't write on SILENCING SAPPHIRE.
Is it a bad thing? Probably, but considering I've been going through a long I-hate-everything-I-write spell, getting some space between myself and my beloved Sapphire sequel may not be the worst thing for me right now. I'm sure my agent, editor, and publisher are absolutely thrilled to hear this. I'm sure there's virtually no hair tearing or hyperventilating into paper bags.

No pressure.

Despite the screaming and crying, I am really enjoying seeing my family again.

My sister, also known as the boss of the family--though she insists that she is advice-y and not bossy--have made it her mission to make mine and my husband's vaca as magnificent as possible.
My lovely mother has slaved in the kitchen to make sure I got my favorite Swedish dishes and has really improved on her English since the last time we were here and I forced her to speak to my American husband. She will now go entire sentences without blushing and telling me in Swedish to take over; I'm muy, mucho, grande proud.
My father, does what he always does and forces me out into the world of culture and history. This time he took us to the Helsingborg history and art museum Dunkers.
I'm well aware that as an "artistic" writer person I'm supposed to like these sort of things and stand close to an abstract piece of art, nodding my head, while gazing at it with this deep and thoughtful look, but I don't.
Even as we went through the history section of my 1000 year old town I couldn't help to close my eyes and think snore as my husband and father insisted on looking at every object, skeleton, wall, and decaying tool.
Though they would deny that any such thing ever happened, I'm pretty sure I saw them staring at this one piece for 10 minutes, trying to figure out what the ancient people could have used it for, before they realized it was only the museum's trash can.

Still, you have to appreciate the fact that my father continues to try to broaden my horizon despite so many years of failure.


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