Helena and Melanie came over yesterday afternoon for fika, and I talked them into staying until the wee hours with promises of dinner and drunken debauchery. It was good times.

For the record, there was no Jack Daniels in Tage’s shot glass, but after he slammed it he did go to the TV and write “JD” in the dust on the screen. Coincidence? I couldn’t swear to it.