on Shoes, Fear and the Very Bad Man

let's get to the crux of the matter. 

i think i know,why, perhaps it is that i have  issues about.....

shoes and ......

swedes.

and it may really have to do with the story of the Very Bad Man-with braces on his teeth......

you see, a mere half a year ago-we were -evicted-in the dead of winter-here in Sweden-over -shoes-( and a few other things).

It began ,when Darling Hubbie and I moved to Goteborg only in December to begin or life of Wedded Bliss together. We came upon a lovely little pad,located in a "lovely" little section of town on the top floor of the home of a man -with apparently very deep  shoe-(and other assorted)-..... issues.

This man was,at best, an odd one. Excessively tall( why "excessively"? because vengeance runs deep and I still intend to take his sorry ass down to just "Tall" -someday), 

very typically Swedish looking - the blond hair , the blue eyes crap-

middle aged - and, not surprisingly- we came to learn-DIVORCED (not that that is a major strike against you at this age- especially in this country)- but we came to know WHY-

and-

with a SOLID ROW of the biggest ugliest BRACES across his teeth- the kinds we wore in the US in the 70's before "modern braces" were invented. I bet he wore a headgear at night ,too.

To try to describe the type of Swedish Man that in his 40's is going to be wearing BRACES on his teeth-in the hopes of becoming the Swedish likes of George Clooney -in his head- is to describe a very bizarre, twisted  and affected individual of gynormous proportions...

this was our first landlord here -and on every level,  he was-indeed-a Very Bad Man( hereinafter referred to as the VBM exclusively).

....and the VBM did- as you might suspect- very EVIL things. 

....sending Passive Agressive e-mails at bizarre hours of the night, was one of the things that he not only excelled at but obviously -(because even Wacko's deseve a bit of fun in life)-relished in the most. Direct Confrontation and False Accusation were other activites that VBM enjoyed-(but hey- everyone has to have a life ,right)? 

VBM was unscrupulous. VBM complained about-everythiing.

During our very short 4 month time there the VBM tortured,haunted and harrassed us , made us hate our own home and did everything he could to derail an otherwise blissful first year of Wedded Life for hubbie and I-as he sat downstairs alone -waiting ( as we all were) -for his "girlfriend" to decide to come visit him, so he could get laid and improve his garrolous, conniving, vindictive, evil, Silas Marner existence in his very big very Most Horribly Decorated House.)

He complained that I was not quiet enough at 10:20 on a Friday evening lugging a 25 kg bag of samples up a steep stairwell. He complained about mysterious tobacco products thrown evily and purposefully onto his balcony. He complained of odd noises at odd times. And VBM requested you shower only after 8 and before 10 in the evening      ( not to us, but to the prior tennats that went running from him-leaving us to deal with him.)

 

Now to see the Hubbie and I is to easily assume at least a few things - we are not the types to be Very Bad Tenants- or even the types to be doing what we know we were doing between the hours of 7:05 and 7:25 on the night of December 23rd,2008 at Ja#*gatan 3 in Goteborg, Sweden,very often....

this all goes as background info for a very Sad Christmas Tale that has manifested itself into a bizarre combination of Fear, Loathing and Shoes in my brain.

Now see upon arrival to our first Luv Lagenheter together- we had to sign with this VBM , a Behavior Contract .

The day of the signing, music levels were discussed along with the usual things-"behaving as if we were mice " in the stairwell after 10 p.m. and before 8 a.m.-  was the terminology ascribed to the method of traversing in the common stairwell in this house during "quiet time."

During the signing,tests on music levels were run.Music was played at different volumes so that we could "come to understand" acceptable levels in the house. 

I eagerly promised him that I would try to restrict the times that I rocked my happy ass off to "Back in Black" at Incredibly High Volumes would be done only when we could clearly see he was not at home.

(but, I 'm thinkin' that that didi not get me any "brownie points"....)

then  there came the subject of ....the shoes.....

"NO shoes".

"What?"

"No shoes."

" No shoes?!"

"No shoes. NOT at all."

I reminded him that he wasn't just dealing with anyone here- that he was dealing with a ( big fancy) fashion designer from New York City, nonetheless,-(okay so you need to dramatize things a bit from time to time for effect in this life).....and I told him how it would RUN my outfits.

- this apparently did little to shake VBM 's resolve. 

"No shoes."

hmmmm...( with sense of desparation ...)-I tried another tactic.

"Mister,it's the Dead of Winter- (which it was)-- and I have clinically  documented circulation problems  and my feet will freeze." ( I envisioned toe amputation by febraury, and inflected some of that into my voice.)

This surprisingly provoked at least some thought- and he produced after a fairly long hunt - a pair of felted wool slippers of his - the kinds with the rubber-y black soles- that WOULD be ACCEPTABLE -if, and mind you IF necessary.....

My nude color suede bottomed ballet exercise slippers were retrieved and countered with. 

(deseprately  thinking that somehow I could make these work with my outfits....)

They failed. 

It was the rubber soled felted woolies -or nothing. 

We demured to His Rules of Conduct Contract-having lost the War -but won a small battle.and at great expense -which I would have glady spent on something meaningful-we purchased me some rightfully cute-ly ,hidious numbers for the soles of my circulation challenged feet-

-a pair of GREEN, LEAF DECORATED, FELTED WOOL SLIPPERS with the required RUBBER BOTTOMS on them.

I labeled them my "Fucking Fairy Faggot Slippers".( hereinafter termed the FFFS)

On the night before Xmas - (that's the 23rd around here and not the 24th- which is actually da Big Day Christmas in this country) - the VBM gave us his version of a Christmas Cozy Welcoming Gift to our home.

We had been out shopping all day- to get gifts for the loved ones in our family and I was gaily-in all good Christmas Jovialty  and Seasonal Merriment - sitting there in my FFFS -having managed to coordinate them with some semi-seasonal outfit for the evening-gaily wrapping away under the tree.....

.....when low and behold, Roy, glancing through his e-mails, espied a message that had just been sent to him from the VBM -written- natch!-in Swedish.( VBM despised speaking in Engelska- if only to piss me off and cut me out as we had already discovered- a few "altercations" into our 3 weeks with him at the time.)

Roughly translated it went like this:

"I would ask politely that you tell your wife to quit wearing shoes in the house . I have detected her wearing shoes in the house this evening between klockan 19:05-19:25 ( that's 7:05 and 7:25 in the evening to the rest of us),-This has happened before ,need I remind you ( wha da f@(*#!?!?! ) -and if I have to ask you again  to tell your wife to quit wearing shoes in the house , I will have to consider - eviction.Mvh- the VBM"

Now, I need not explain this very far. But my Holiday Mood certainly plummeted - immediately-straight to the depths of hell. 

after several other bizarre confrontations - oh about 1 a week on average ,about this, that and the other- 

THIS was TOO much- basically right there smack dab on the (swedish) Christmas Eve.

We realized then we were living on top of a Psycho and a- Very Bad Man.

You see, we knew very well what we had been doing between 7:05 and 7:25 that evening. I can assure you that it was not an activity that required any walking- at all. Remember - this  was our LUV Lagenheter - and we were newlyweds....filled with Christmas spirit..... Never you mind. You figure it out.

Screeching of the likes of a Banshee Raised Around Quite a Number of Loud Mexicans and Texans-( which was indeed the case)-commenced. Swearing of which I have always had quite the flair for, if I do say so myself, reached Epic Proportions and volumes that I made quite sure that VBM heard in the depths of his SOLES in his  Very Quiet Lonely Pathetically Grotesquely Decorated Pad down below.

(we checked. No, Girlfriends' Car was not out front and it was obvious that this contrived e-mail was the only HOHOHO he was getting that night.)

Depression descended on the little happy newleywed couple and I put my Screaming and Yelling and General Piss-off-idness in my merry little Christmas Bag along with the Christmas presents the next morning and schlepped it all the way to the "Family Compound" in "Lislik" ( to disguise the name of the actual location of my "swedish family" to protect them.....)

And I pulled these  New Toys out a plenty- like  shiny happy Xmas presents for each single member of the family -one by one- and in group, to also revel in.

My Holiday was ruined...... and the only thing that shook me from the Gloom of the VBM, was the rousing conversation about how long the family was going to pay for the upkeep on my dear Mother-in-Law's  grave when she passed to the great Northern Lights in the Sky (  but MAN is that!- a whole other post.)

We returned back after the Holiday to the house of the VBM, and I proceeded to stomp around in my FFFS non-stop - as loudly as I could for several more months-( there was no rule about heaviness of step-you see) and  had the joy of many more altercations with the VB,Very Evil Man  - until -thankfully-

we received the Blessed Eviction from the VBM- in duplicate-one for each of us- ( even a VBM can be generous at times) registered mail- to be retrieved in the Dark Dead of Winter via a 15 minute walk to the store by the Husband of the Very Bad Hip.

It damaged me-and my attitude about shoes- I quite fear- for life.

BUT- it got us to here- where -believe it or not-I am quite happy. At our new Lagenheter -we have a blissfully normal landlord. He and his lovely wife have as of right now 2 and 3/4 children. One of them wakes up with a screech that shakes the house promptly at 8:15 every morning and then runs and stomps happily all over the place. I smile at the kid every time I see him, because if for no other reason-He's the one that  lets me wear my shoes here without guilt.

Still there are days and times that my husband -(he too,recall, being a swede- is a lover of the peaceful happy quiet HEMLIV that only barefeet can produce)- still comes running to me with this wide eyed exppression and horror and chastises me for being too loud in the stairwell with my shoes on.....I know he fears we'll get evicted from here,too......

And our new Awfully Nice Guy landlord comes to us and apologizes to us incase they are too loud. 

Of course, I reply," Not at all!( "Scream away, Little Man, scream away!)"

but now you see- that this shoe thing runs deep- and because of a Very Bad, Very Swedish, Very Evil Man with Ugly Braces on an even Uglier Mug, I am damaged-for life.

I suppose I should see a shrink- but- THAT's a WHOLE other posting, too.....

Lesson for the SOLE: Vengeance is Deep, sayeth the Lord. And someday,on some level- i'm -still-going to get mine in nice passive-aggressive way that only the VBM can appreciate.

Swedish Words for the Day: 

mycket dålig hemskt ful man med  tandställning- that's: the VERY BAD UGLY HORRIBLE MAN WITH BRACES-

mig och min sårade anda för skor- that's-ME and MY WOUNDED SPIRIT FOR SHOES- .

and , to the vengeance that i spoke of earlier- 

someday, at the very least,in the dead of depest darkest snow-y winter, ( maybe for Xmas?)- I'm sending the Fucking Fairy Faggot Slippers back to VBM- registered mail- so he has to go down to the store to get them- and ponder indeed on his Very Bad, Very Evil ways.....

- and that's the least of what i want to do. and  I think with a bit of therapy- i might just get there-someday.....

VACUUMING and the SWEDISH FOOT

disclaimer- this is most definitely not me in the photo.

now one must understand this:

A Swedish floor -is 

a CLEAN -floor. 

Mighty clean. 

now, this was not something that I necessarily knew before I arrived here. In my carefully arranged "Personal Beliefs on Cultural Behaviors Section of My Brain", I had always thought that it was the GERMANS that had the clean floors- not necessarily the Swedes.( forgive me , frankly, if I actually even thought much ABOUT Swedes at all- their floors -or anything beyond Ingmar Bergman - prior to marrying one...)

but, no, I can tell you: the Swedes have CLEAN FLOORS. 

I've told you of my husband's genetically predisposed habit" of vacuuming on the weekends ,right? ( please recall- I do not vacuum. I SWEEP but I do not vacuum- at least not hardwood floors-makes no sense to me.) He vacuums hard wood floors even and ,as best I can tell, he does NOT have that kind of attachment on that vacuum cleaner- of his. 

Now, vacuuming on the weekend reminds me of all kinds of things- 

and that's mostly the desire to -get out. 

You see back in Mitt Hemland, my cleaning lady came on Saturday morning- and vacuumed- (not well, God knows - as Olivia who uses that same "cleaning" - and I use that term loosely-lady can attest to)-

but I heard the vacuum cleaner on Saturday morning- and it was time -to get out. Off to brunching,marketing, shopping, etc.... It was a bell I responded well to. 

It hasn't changed. I still want to run the other direction when I hear it. ( Did I tell you my old Yorkie was DEATHLY AFRIAD of the VACUUM CLEANER - and ironing boards ,too,come to think of it, but as always- I digress...)

And when My Darling Swede vacuums there are also the requisite nasty Spousal Allegations that fly in the air-"Well, if you did it, during the week,then I wouldn't have to on the weekend." " IT HAS to be done. SOMEONE HAS to do IT." -that kind of thing. He vacuums. I sulk and think of long-ago weekends upstairs ( hiding ) ......

soooooo.....whatever-

the whole point to me -is on some level at least- why do it at all? We have WOOD FLOORS everywhere- with rugs- which I could consider vacuuming from time to time- but really, I sweep fairly regularly- To me sweeping hardwood floors -with the occassional wash-down - is enough- or am I way off base here!?

and lest my Darling Husband think not- I definitely SWEEP when I see a Dust Bunny -okay!?

Point is I don't see them apparently often enough. Don't get me wrong-i'm not a slob. I like a neat home- inclusive of those nasty shoes PUT UP UNDER the bench. Last nights coffee mugs removed. The remains of LUNCH put away and cleaned up. I'm not neurotic- but I'm not a real slob at all. And I don't like Dust Bunnies more than anyone else- unless, by some miracle they've gotten large enough that they actually aquire names- THEN , they're really FUN!

But this remains a - burning- issue- straight to the SOLES of MY- INDOOR SHOES.

BUt- ahah- as sometimes can happen in 47 year old brains- last week, I had a revelation. 

REALLY- 

( sometimes I scare myself)

The whole thing started to make sense to me when I had some friends over for dinner. I started to realize that there was- perhaps- a connections between VACUUMING and the SHOES OFF thing.

I had had some lovely American friends over last week - who kindly- God Bless You Wonderful American Women left thier shoes on in my home. ( I felt vindicated, normal, happy and loved. ahhh!!) I had assured their Good Ex-Pat Selves that the husband ws away and they were more than free to do so. Well, while they were here, bread was cut, pastry was eaten, and apparently crumbs accumulated on the floor of the kitchen. Normal enough.

Then, the next morning, I did something that I rarely do and went downstaris to make coffee- BAREFOOT.

Yeech! Crumbs all over my feet. I had forgotten to SWEEP-which I normally do- really! Memories of my youth on the Texas Gulf Coast returned - a land where everyone went barefoot, year 'round- because we COULD- everyone barefoot- but me. I always hated sand grit on my toes. 

And I hated this,too. I swept up the groid immediately and carried on. But then, I'd say "somewhere after the second cup", it dawned on me, WHY perhaps these guys are always vacuuming-

 

These people are barefoot. Thus-to avoid crud on their feet- they want a CLEAN FLOOR.

okAY!!..........( cue: 100 watt light bulbs going off in brain....)

i thought on it for a while. 

and I thought some more...

this was a major Cultural Riff that I figured deserved my best considerations.

And you know ( i bet you do) KNOW the answer I came up with ,RIGHT!?

WEAR SHOES IN YOUR HOUSE! DAMN IT!!!

and thus AVOID THE "NATURAL" accumulation of FLOOR GROID, which I promise to clean- when it becomes a -Visual Issue to - ME.

- it's real simple... the whole thing made sense.

You know how before someone comes over- you make a general attempt to "clean"- tidy up a bit? Same story over here. I bustle about a bit, putting up the stack of folded underwear in the drawer that I'd been meaning to do all week. Giving the coffee table a dusting ,perhaps.....the usual.

And the hubbie helps ,too.( the joys of an egalitarian swedish man- I was told -and they're right- they DO housework!!!)

So when that time comes around here - and the guests are literally on the horizon- remember this is a country where nothing is really too much of a rush.....The hubbie hurriedly begins to pitch in and -goes straight for - YOU GUESSED it- the VACUUM CLEANER. He then proceeds to give EVERY SINGLE FLOOR the colonoscopy of its life, and vacuums and vacuums and vacuums and bitches and vacuums some more. Usually a MOST pleasant afternoon....

If it were up to him- the floors would be SPARKLING CLEAN- and the stack of underwear could still be out. I swear. I've seen him "clean" the entire bottom floor in this house and still leave coffee cups and old napkins - (from SOMEONE's grrrr...late night BLECH! coffee) -sitting on the coffee table when guests come walking in.

To him- it's real simple- a CLEAN FLOOR is a CLEAN HOUSE.

And -of course- he is fully aware that his guests have come over -so I believe- just to- take their shoes off - (and maybe have a coffee and a chat....)- that's the part I just don't get......

Someday- no joke- (and I do have a great VISUAL dream of this)- I AM serving DINNER on the FLOOR- to guests and all. Probably after a Great Future Battle - that I am sure is still down the pike for us. ......complete with candelabra and drippy candles....I can see it now....It makes me feel good just to plan it for someday.....

sooo....Lesson for the SOLE today:-Boy! there aren't a whole lot of easy lessons this week, really. this is a NUT I can't seem to crack.Is it to continue wearing shoes- at least - in your own home?and encourage others futiley to do the same? Is that a lesson - does that really count!?

Swedish Word for the Day- a very famous swedish word indeed- and one to which all my fellow swedish classmates get the biggest kick out of- DAMMSUGARE- VACUUM CLEANER- in swedish-yeech!

a quick note as to why this is so "DAMM" amusing, is the fact that the Swedes have a favourite pastry called the DAMMSUGARE- reason being is because it is a brown and green marzipan horror ( IMHO!) in the shape of a tube that apparently looks just like the vacuum cleaners that were in every swedish home back in the 1950's.

Now i'm all for "vintage inspiration"-especially in pastry- 

but.....forgive me if I'm wrong, ....

isn't the scary thing that they even have these pastries named "VACUUM CLEANERS" at all?

on the perceivable differences between an American and Swedish Foyer-FOAJE

.....there is no self- respecting blog by an American ex-pat living in Sweden that doesn't involve at least a comment about Swedes and shoes.....

and how they really feel about this ancient contraption that they have to place on their feet from time to time to protect them from the vagaries of the world beneath them....

and let's get this straight right now- no matter what else is said here- I WEAR shoes in my own HOME -from getting out of the bed til I go to sleep at night. Period. I cannot now or ever- see this changing.

That being said for the record- I shall commence with this- 

the  Entry Way dissertation.....

....now,if you've never been to Sweden before- the first time you enter a swedish home you are hit with it- 

the Shoe ( and coats and scarves and gloves and hats) Ditchin' Area. This is a Major Component of Swedish Living.No home is without it. Period.

and this area is RIGHT INSIDE- the FRONT DOOR. Often ( especially in a lägenheter-rental)- it is a less-than -attractive( oops! did I accidentally say IKEA there?- SEE ABOVE ) METAL contraption  ( frequently bolted to the wall!) that is intent on housing these items- being top part A for Coats and bottom part B - for shoes. This is usually carelessly overloaded, (  and unless company is coming over strewn in about a meter and half wide swath of Shoedom and Scarfdom all over ) - often times looking more like a Salvation Army Winter Items Sale than an Attractive Welcoming Area for a guest to arrive in charm and comfort into ones' home- ( a.k.a. back in MITT HEMLAND- that would be often the demi-lune/entry way table with the charming chackas on it set out to entertain ,delight and gently amuse your guest).

Now-often here, it can be that a more attractive attempt has been made form the metal rod IKEA contraption, granted: There's the wood cute heart cut-out versions, the wicker basket versions, the hand-painted versions,and better,etc..... I'm happy to say-most of my friends have the slightly better versions...

but this area is something that is specially and uniquely "swedish".

You see, a guest to your home has arrived desirous of 2 things above all else - 

#1-the desire to DITCH their shoes off thier feet as fast as they can( sometimes with vengeance, I do believe) and

#2- then to as quickly there-after give you a charming Hostess gift- for even the smallest of Occassions. (now THAT PART is indeed very charming - and not the part of this whole Arrival Event of which I complain- least I never receive another bottle of wine ! ^_- ! )

Often off, half-way inside the door, they want to hurl these Vile Shoe Things  off ASAP! -really, in a term of immediate respect- to you and the floors that you keep in your home that you could eat your dinner off of, if you wanted.

When a foreigner, observing this behavior for the first time, one might perhaps assume they are in Japan- they being well -known "Shoes Off" people. 

A quick look around at the blond hair and blue-eyed crowd will quickly reinforce however that- no,Dorothy-

you are- 

not - 

in Kyoto.

When I first moved over here- I had to have this explained to me - ( assumedly I walked right into someone's home with my shoes on and my husband had to politely grab me and whisper in my ear to ditch my shoes- )

Frankly, I recall I panicked a bit. 

Gee! what if I had socks with holes?! 

What-KRICKY!- if I had worn socks that didn't match my outfit because I ( apparently incorrectly) assumed that my boots would be covering them the whole night? 

Agh! my pants, that I have hemmed to just the right length for the shoes-that-I-usually-wear-with-these-pants, were going to drag on the floor and have to be dry-cleaned (which I couldn't afford here)!?

-HORROR!  The whole look I had carefully put together was going to be ruined AND  I was going to look 5 KG fatter because I was wearing those heels to compensate for that weight i'd put on from the POTATOES around here!?

Worst of all-  ( and even living on the Polar Ice Cap- no one has a sane answer for me on this one-)

What if my feet were cold?!?

When I first arrived here as a poor little immigrant- oh, back in January of '07, I moved in and without a thought, and NATCH! - I wore shoes in my new "home". Never you mind that when I moved here, I was living with my husband  and his two grown sons who have seriously 3 pairs of the biggest feet I have ever seen- and MYCKET pairs of GYNORMOUS SHOES TRAILED anywhere within a meter and half around the front door...on a set-up not dissimilar to the one photoed above.....yeech!

It was a clue that I didn't even pick up on - for some time....."They" went barefoot or slid around in socks and I - WORE SHOES in the house. as IF there was a question....

I later came to find out that my husband had had to explain this odd American behavior to his kids on the side (seriously)....

" See, guys,..... what she is wearing in the house here are her 'INDOOR SHOES' " ....

uhhh.....right....even they realized soon enough that the heavy winter boots that I was wearing were.....not.....

my "INDOOR SHOES".

You see, also i MITT HEMLAND- there are only a few certain types of people that would be "vulgar" enough to require that you take off shoes inside their home:

a.) the friend that just paid a fortune to install new white wall-to-wall carpeting - closely related to the "occassional" pretentious freak- that wants to MAKE you KNOW how CLEAN and PERFECT her home is becuase it is vacuumed every two days....(and YOURS isn't!?)

b.) the naturalist freak- that is afraid of the pesticides and other chemical-y things that you might drag into their Oats-n-Granola pad .....

c.)or the new Mommy- afraid of the same pesticides as the category B type above- that might be visited  on their new baby's gentle nostrils...

For God's sake,people:

"Sex and the City" did a whole episode about this once- remember when Carrie lost her Manolo's becuase someone stole them in the "shoe melee" at a party once when she went to the home of an above listed "category A" -(or was that a Category C )friend? It was a tragedy of EPIC PROPORTIONS- or at least worth a 30 minute segment. Not only did poor Carrie have to ruin her outfit for the party without the shoes on, she lost a brand new $400 pair of shoes out of the whole thing when some unscrupulous guest "upgraded" on the way out the door...accusations ensued, the friend forked over SOME of the money to pay her back for her lost shoes- but not all of it --as i recall- and in the end- Carrie had to write her friend off as being more of a control -freak bitch than she had considered her to be.

I refuse to be considered any of these types. Period. In Mitt Hemland- people that require that you take off shoes in their home are generally percieved as some version of a "pretentious snot" - no matter if they are A , B  or C types.

In my new home here,I consider myself to be a testing ground for the reaction of the average Swede arriving to a home - not exactly laid out with the Shoe Ditchin' Area DIRECTLY INSIDE. Not intentionally, my Shoe and Coat Cesspool Area is a bit undefined here now. A guest to my home has to enter an interior stairwell in my apartment to even arrive on the upstairs landing  to this "area". Once arrived there, even then- mine is, in swedish term, is a mightely poorly defined area.  I have a huge French Poster instead of a Coat Hanging Contraption-OBS!  and under it, only have a bench with the "family shoes" ( the hubbies' and Sixten's shoes- not mine God Forbid!) crammed underneath it. And then!-  the COATS have to come off and be hung in a closet across the "American Foyer"-( insert visual of - Entry Way Table with amusing Shells to "intrigue and delite" ) Area opposite that. I've seen Swedes and even the average well- indoctrinated ex-pat get at the least a titch nervous and caught off guard when entering my home, when welcomed by my "Decidedly Alien Ditching Area", and when greeted with my  cheery assertive," PLEASE feel free to leave your shoes on here!" I have to admit, I get a giggle at least every time....I'm sorry to say.....

As insulting as it is to a swedish person to leave shoes ON in their home- 

-a good friend knows in MY house- they leave their shoes ON to not insult me.

I think it will always be a challenge for me- and not wanting to be rude, I generally try to comply- but sometimes I do honestly forget to Ditch. And IF any of my swedish friends have read thus far- I'm not MEANING to "insult" or "horrify" if I walk into your home and forget to take my shoes off.....

I just truly - do  not - think- of - it-----

at all....

apparently my god given "right to wear shoes"- has been taken away from me- here...

Lesson for the SOLE today- 

God grant me the patience to accept cultural differences...( seems I've asked for this before.....)...and to squelch that desire  to shout out - " You'd think this is frickin' JAPAN around here!!!" every single time i have to remove my shoes in someones'  home......

or to screech "UGH! "-every single time I have to pick up the hubbie's or Sixten's shoes and cram them under the bench- where- need I remind them- where - they-BELONG!

Swedish Word for the Day- FOAJE- that's a FOYER..... or Shoe Ditching Area.

'nuf said for the day!- at least I got you - in the door- 

believe me - the plot thickens.....

a brief pictoral essay on why Manolo Blahnik will never open a store in Sweden

just your average swedish gal out for a party afternoon- in the summer- 

note the 

charming( vinyl-as if that needs to be said) 

high summer foot wear.....

but......if I had to describe the one shoe that i truly beleive every swedish woman has in their closet- well, here it is.....

......pulled straight out of this months new editions here...

.... it's really nice to know that season in and season out, it's fashion boots like this that you can always find in stock here in Sweden.... vinyl scrunchie boots with the vinyl straps and the antique silver ( oops! can you spot an up-trend there?!) studs....it truly is a number that you want year after year after year( since oh about what? 1984!?)

and as if that isn't enough....there is truly every version in the book around here....gotta love that SCRUNCH THANG,huh!?and worse they charge way more than 100 sek for this!

BUT WAIT!!! 

be still my heart!

this is a NEW FASHION beauty for sale here this fall in Sweden- i just can't wait! 

do you know it comes in several other colors- just as lovely!?

i could go on......

(that is if I could just download a bit better!)

....but I'm thinkin' you're seeing where I'm goin' right?

god bless the man that created this....

manolo......'nuf said....... really... 

lesson for the (sole) today- uhhh....MEOW!?! 

word for the DAY: SKOR I SVERIGE- that's the subject of this week's expose- the SHOES of SWEDEN......

 and sometimes there are just things that truly defy explanation...and photos are the only thing to explain it....

WInd to rip your t$*% off......vinden slita dina bröst off

oh god. 

today i make my way to the first day of SFI (that's swedish for: Svenska For Invandarare) - 

or something close-aka:  Swedish for Immigrant(Idiots).

that's me....

and on the 4th of September, I am being forced to head out into winds, as the title states above-strong enough( not to mention cold enough) to freeze or rip your T#*$ OFF!

In one single day- i am now going to have to go straight for the "bulk" of my clothing collection-

the HEAVY sweater.....

all while NYC ( mitt hemland) is enjoying some of what they often call the 10 best days of the year).......perfect temperatures, perfect sky, bellissimo....( the tragic fact that Olivia and I also call it "September 11th weather" will be left for another post...)

The trees, that I so love, off my balcony are loud and noisy in the whipping and beating that they are taking from the wind and nasty off-and-on spats of rain....

by the end of next week I am quite sure they will be ripped back to their grey gnarly bark for the next .....forever....

there is no joy in this. 

period. 

and it's the price you pay for living on the North Pole. 

period.

and there's not a dang thing more to be said about it either- least I'm late for that SFI class today....

so-it's a pretty thin one today but-

MY LESSON FOR THE SOUL TODAY IS: be thankful if only  for the convenient opportunity that the Swedish Government has provided me- a free activity to participate in INSIDE  while the WINDS RIP UP the WORLD OUTSIDE: free swedish lessons with a whole bunch of other Invandarare put there to amuse me-ha!

NOW if I could only get there in one piece.

Swedish words for the day:vinden slita dina bröst off - which is in english-the title of this post- .....and if you can't figure out what "bröst" is - or what "T@*# " are- you are apparently too young to be reading my blog- and I'll ask you to get off of here immediately....

this, I think is going to get quite ...ugly.....

Stay tuned- next week! - a 5 part dissertation on one of the major banes of my existence here:

 Swedes and SHOES....

and yes, it's worthy of a whole weeks worth of blogs, truly .

note: Dissertation shall include , but not be limited to, why I believe that Joe Cocker is really ...a swede in disguise....

now you think on THAT for the weekend - and come back for the answer next week- okay!?

IT WAS good!...and it is GOOD and it's gonna BE good for a VERY LONG TIME!

IT WAS good!...and it is GOOD and it's gonna BE good for a VERY LONG TIME!

you are viewing an "historical masterpiece" here. ... no.... it's not  Botticelli's Venus-( although there are similarities in the seashell theme ) ...this was very own, very DIY wedding cake from our wedding last year. and this past Saturday , the husband and I found the time to do what we had needed to do for the past 3 weeks after our 1st anniversary.  We participated in that most questionable of all American wedding traditions- we each ate a slice of the top of it..... a year  .....and 3 weeks after the fact....(logistics having interfered with the actual date...) and I'm alive to day to tell you -believe it or not- it WAS.....good! In the US, we have this weird tradition of saving the top layer of the wedding cake to eat a year later on your anniversary - for luck- an upset tummy- or a trip to the hospital emergency room -whichever of these comes to pass - .... all supposing that IF you survived it, that you will indeed go on to be blessed with a fine marriage for the remainder of your days..... fortunately, i have at least now concluded that with a VERY NICE bottle of champagne, even a year old cake can taste good...and thus insure wedded bliss for the future..... oddly enough, this was not a tradition that the hubbie was very much looking for ward to participating in. But I had him convinced that for the sake of our marriage- this is an activity that HAD TO be done.  Now he'd had a year to think on it and warm up to the idea. The cake top itself has been a challenge to keep. It has made a round-trip back and forth across Sweden - survived 3 moves, a boat ride, a ferry ride and a year of threats to "pitch the damn thing" at least every other week from the hubbie who has managed to cram ,shove, hide, loose and kick punt the poor thing around in the freezer for a solid year.  now.....being married prior to an American, I had participated in this ritual once before- many moons ago, on the terrace of our apartment in Manhattan overlooking the New York City skyline. I think one taste of the Rancid Slice - we both spit it out in the general direction of the Empire State Building - and that was that.  divorce followed ....inevitably --- 14 years later ... - blame the CAKE... So believing all of my own mental malarkey and attempting not to repeat errors of the past - I was convinced that we were going to have to do substantially better.....   and down a whole slice of it-EACH... We had a glass of the Veuve Cliquot to start- and then the moment that I thought my husband was going to say- "this American thang has just really gone too far!"..... we both took a bite( yeah, yeah,w e even did that cheesy "feeding each other bit"- to try to lighten the scene a bit) "ummmm,..ummmmm..! o-KAY!- in that adorable way Swedes can say that phrase- o-k A Y ! but - it seriously-tasted  .....really good...  and so it came to pass that we each ate our own darned slices- without a problem.....( save the increasing giggles from the champagne on my part...) and without the desperate threats that I feared I was going to have to throw out.... OK- the cake wasn't PERFECT-a bit damp-ish- I won't even say soggy....  but ....to draw upon the obvious analogy- what marriage is perfect either ? no our marriage isn't perfect........but I have to give it a very high mark- like the 1 year- 3 week cake slices. I found a really great guy in that cellar bar at the hotel in Gurgaon, India . And although we will both admit to fighting occasionally, most of our fights..... end up in laughs, because we both realize how hard we are TRYING TO actually FIGHT- ( as if we are trying to re-enact that primordial dance of arguing with one's spouse that we both had drilled into our marital behavioral patterns during our first Attempts at Wedded Bliss.) Like the cake was on the day we got married - and as good as it tasted Saturday night- It's all delicious, even of it's a bit "less than optimal" at times.... Lesson for the Soul- This is one to take to the bank.-there's a reason why you believe in silly traditions!  And...... I think it was OK- but,the rest of the cake top was summarily DUMPED in the trash the next morning....( there were no traditions on that at least.) Swedish word(s) of the Day- Det var bra.......det är  bra och det kommer att vara bra under en mycket lång tid! IT WAS good!...and it is GOOD and it's gonna BE good for a VERY LONG TIME! .........this time around at least- i know it all was done right!!