I Want You To Know

I want you to know that Jacob and I are really cool, super attractive, artsy, creative, and perfect in just about every way.

I mean, obviously.


But seriously. I've always hated the blogs where people give off the carefully calculated impression that their life is perfect. That is blatantly untrue. It can't be true, because no one's life is perfect, even when you are traveling the world and taking pretty pictures (like the one above).

As amazing as travel is - the thrill of new places and cultures, the beauty of new sights, the experience of new foods - it can all give way very easily to a sense of restlessness. Homesickness. Purposelessness. (Not sure if that is a word). Living out a dream still has it's ups and downs.

So, now that we are on the same page regarding our awesomeness, here are some pictures.

Thursday evening our hosts threw a little party for all of their house guests. (Besides us, there was family visiting from Washington D.C.). In Sweden there is a traditional summer celebration meal: The Crayfish Feast.

The Crayfish Feast is held in August to mark the beginning of crayfish season. The crayfish are served cold after being boiled in vinegar, dill, and other good stuff. They are traditionally served with Aquavit - a caraway-infused vodka (really good - tastes sort of like whiskey). I couldn't believe it when I saw the platter of crayfish - they looked like plastic.




After our first course of crayfish and vodka, we moved on to another traditional Swedish meal: Pickled Herring.

Pickled Herring is right up there next to Swedish Meatballs on the scale of All-Things-Swedish. It is fish which has been preserved in a vinegary-sugary brine, sometimes with a sauce like honey mustard. It is served with boiled potatoes, red onion, and sour cream. All together it's very good.

To further our education, we learned some traditional Swedish drinking songs. I can't actually sing the words for you, but I can follow along the tune while making convincing Swede-like noises.

On Friday Jacob and I took the bicycles 4 km. out to a nearby lake. It was my turn to take the little yellow bike, the same bicycle that Jacob had taken 20 km. to Skinnskatteberg just a few days earlier. Little did I know - that bike is the two-wheel equivalent of a clown car. I barely made it to the lake, hunched over a bicycle intended for someone a foot shorter than me. I still can't figure out how Jacob made it 20 km.

It rained on us just as we got to the lake, but cleared up fairly quickly.





A picture cannot do it justice.
Now please comment and tell us how cool we are.