Saturday 23 March 2019. Morning

An Uncle and Auntie are visiting from Sweden. We stayed with them in January before the funeral, now they've come for a Cambridge weekend. We will go punting and visit Kettle's Yard and the colleges. We will not go to London. Family time is important this weekend. Last week, while I was on holiday in... Continue Reading →

Through the snow

  I arrived and all the land was covered in snow. Snow is easier to walk through if someone has walked it before you. You want so much but there is no time, only now, and the world is black and white. White crystals lie like death over the branches. Branches are family, weighed down... Continue Reading →

Thursday 7 February 2019. Night

There are certain things I know about myself: My surname means branches. My family comes from Latvia, but I was born and raised in Sweden. The family is build up of five brothers, and their families. I want to be a writer. My mother and father love me, and will always be there for me.... Continue Reading →

Speak from the Peaks

The days between Christmas and New Years are known in Swedish as 'mellandagarna' -- the middle days, or the in-between days. For this year's in-between days my parents have booked a cottage in the Peak District and planned a walking holiday. They ask me along and to drive the car they've rented, as they're still... Continue Reading →

Thursday 15 November 2018. Midday

Last night I went to a concert organised by the Latvian Embassy to the United Kingdom, in celebration of Latvia's 100th anniversary as a nation. Six Latvian musicians played pieces by Vītols, Rachmaninov, Mendelssohn, Beethoven and Vasks; one Russian, two Germans, and two Latvians. In the interval speech, the representative from the Embassy, dressed in... Continue Reading →

Forest’s Gold

We drive to Höör to find the Forest's Gold. We're a bit late in the season and too far south to find many chanterelles, but it's a good excuse to spend the day in the forest. It starts to rain on the way there, but the autumn trees are even more radiant in their crimson... Continue Reading →

Soul sister

It's a silly sisters' day, celebrating ourselves. We play games from our childhood, eat food from our family and enjoy the nature of our country. We're silly and so completely ourselves. She makes me think of Brontë's masterpiece: she is more myself than I am.When the self has been lost to the winds, with her... Continue Reading →

London Swedes to the polls

It’s a sunny Thursday in August, two weeks before the election. Just off Baker Street is the embassy, a piece of home in my home town of ten years. London is sometimes called Sweden’s fourth largest city, because of the many Swedish citizens living there. Exactly how many that is remains unclear, however. But I’m... Continue Reading →

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