Last weekend Olof, the four youngest kids, and I drove up to to Sorsele, a little town about 150 miles (240 km) northwest of here. Olof’s sister and her family live up there, but it was the first time we’d visited since they made the move. It’s up in the mountains (not the kind of mountains I grew up with, but after a dozen years living on the coast, it felt pretty darned mountainous), and as you may have noticed in the previous picture, it is spectacularly beautiful. We were blessed with perfect weather, sunny and warm, and apart from driving three hours each way with a carsick two-year-old, it was a great weekend.

Saturday evening went out to the beach for an hour or so, and while the water was way too cold to dip more than a toe in — I was told that the ice had melted away only a couple of days earlier — we had a nice time walking barefoot in the sand and taking in the view. The kids ran around like maniacs with their cousins, and even played a little beach volleyball.

We got home late Sunday evening, and it was pretty much straight back to the grind for me. I spent a lot of the week working on my final essay for the course I’m taking now, thanks in large part to my mother-in-law, who took Yrsa off my hands for two whole days so I could do some writing. I submitted it last night, and though I’m not thrilled with it, I’m sure it’s good enough for a passing grade, Now I’ve just got tons and tons to read before the big workshop in Uppsala next week.

After that, summer vacation!