Stockholm Pride Parade

I had a great time at the Stockholm Pride parade this afternoon, the weather was lovely and everyone was so happy and excited.  This was the first pride parade I've ever been to, and it was much more family-friendly than I expected.  Sure, there were plenty of mostly-naked, glitter-covered people in platform shoes, a couple of boobs and butts here and there, and the occasional gyrating party boy swinging from the top of a truck.  But, the majority of people in the parade were quite honestly not that interesting or different than anyone else: smiling parents with chubby toddlers waving rainbow flags, grandmothers, grandfathers, giddy dancing teenagers, teachers, police officers, doctors, nurses, church members, people with disabilities, politicians, and every other type of person you could imagine.

"Proud parents of homosexual sons and daughters"

I was amazed by all the people dancing the entire 4-hour parade route in the craziest, tallest high heels imaginable.

Gay police officers

Right back at'cha, guy on the left!

Free blessings from the priests.

"Do not execute our children for their love"

Another trip to Kallskär

We spent the weekend out on Kallskär again, and this time we brought the kayak.  The weather was gorgeous, the water was warm, and our bellies were full of fresh smoked fish.

If you ever go on vacation with a group of Swedes, you will notice a huge difference between the American and Swedish style of "taking it easy."  There is no such thing as idly lazing around on a Swedish holiday: wake up, drink coffee, take a swim, eat a breakfast smorgås (sandwich), pile into the rowboat, set out the fishing nets, return to the cabin, drink more coffee, eat cake, sip a little whisky, pile back into the rowboat, head to a different island for snorkeling and exploring, drink beer in the sunshine, haul in the fishing nets on the way back, clean the fish, hang up the nets and pick seaweed off them, scrub off the boats, cut up firewood, start the smoker, fix the dock, haul kelp out of the sea to put on the garden, cut down weeds, take a paddle in the kayak, eat smoked fish and drink wine, take a walk, drink some more beer, take another swim, sip a little whiskey, and fall into bed completely and totally satisfied.

Flounder, whitefish, and bass, fresh from the Baltic Sea.  We cleaned the fish and packed them in salt for a couple of hours, then smoked them with juniper branches.  Stockholmers pay hundreds of kronor for fresh smoked fish....we had so much we had to give some to M's parents. 

Triss on the lookout for fish (or anything else that can possibly be chased and barked at).  This crazy guy chased seagulls up and down the rocks for about two hours and ended up with horribly ragged paws.  He still hasn't learned that it's impossible to catch a seagull.

Timon patiently waiting for M to return from a spin in the kayak.

A summer storm rolled through with some beautiful cloud formations.

The Importance of Shoes

If you're visiting Sweden for the first time and you have absolutely no idea what to do or say, the number one rule to remember is to take off your shoes at the door when you enter someone's home.  This habit is so ingrained into Swedish culture that it's hard to explain.  It's also hard for me to explain to Swedes that yes, in the US we take our shoes off at the door if it's muddy or raining outside, but it's really not a big deal to leave them on if they're not filthy.  To a Swedish person, wearing your shoes inside the house is akin to something as barbaric and uncivilized as taking a dump on the lawn: you just don't do it. 

Because of the no-shoes-in-the-house rule, everyone I know has a couple pairs of träskor (literally "wooden shoes") that are always ready at the door and slip easily on and off:

M, his father, and his brother wear these clumpy, high-heeled shoes for almost all outdoor activities around the house, including chopping firewood, chasing after dogs through the forest, hauling in fishing nets, and jumping on and off boats on the dock all day.  Everyone seemed so comfortable running around in these things that I decided to pick up a pair for myself at the local hardware store.  As you can imagine, for me they're just about as awkward and uncomfortable as it gets without resorting to stilettos.  I guess it's one of those acquired cultural skills like eating rice with chopsticks or effortlessly carrying firewood on your head...if you didn't grow up doing it, you probably shouldn't start trying as a grownup.  I should have at least held out for something a little more girly for myself, because are some reasonably cute wooden-shoe options out there:

As for shoes that are appropriate for anything other than household chores, I'm starting to realize that my tendency to throw on a pair of old running sneakers to head to the store is decidedly un-Swedish and screams "YANKEE" to everyone around me.  Most people wear much more stylish shoes...these really pointy-toed type of leather soccer (sorry, fotboll) shoes are very popular with the men:

While most women wear normal dressy shoes or sandals in the summertime, almost every woman I saw when the weather was colder made me feel like a complete country bumpkin by strutting around in a pair of tall, crazy hot, shiny black knee-length leather boots:

All the ladies had these, from young girls to grandmothers...they made me feel SO boring.  And clumsy.  And short.   Okay, so I have some work to do in the European-shoe-fashion area.  But, I can promise that you will never, ever, ever, ever see me assimilating to the point of something like this:

Not to brag, but...

As the proud daughter of a former beer-truck driver, I couldn't help noticing this stellar advertising slogan on a can of Danish Carlsberg beer the other day:

"Probably" the best beer in the world??  After growing up surrounded by pompous, over-the-top American advertising, this seems so funny and wishy-washy to me.  I'm used to hearing about the "king of beers" and "champagne of beers."  As for Carlsberg....hey, you'll probably like it, and maybe you won't, but you know, whatever. 

Island Life

Some photos from the island where M grew up and where his parents still live.  There are no cars out here, only boats, ATV's, and tractors.

  The homestead, along with at least eight boats (last I counted).

An inventive ATV seat.

The definition of "traffic."

M testing out my new kayak (finally I have a boat too!!)

 My turn to try the kayak.

Island cows, kickin' it.

You expect trolls to pop out whenever you turn around...

...or maybe just a rådjur (roe deer)

These horsetails are so fine and fuzzy they look like they aren't in focus.

Wild rose

Island farm

Major highway

This is a knipa, or common goldeneye, with her brand new babies.  M's family has about five nest boxes for them in the yard, and the eggs were hatching while we were visiting.  The babies only spend a day or so in the nest before they have to make the perilous plunge down to momma in the water.  Unfortunately there are evil seagulls lurking everywhere, just waiting to swallow them whole.

M and his father checking the nest box.

Just hatched...we put him back for a rest before the big jump.

Late evening sunset during one of the longest days of the year.