When I'm a Real Grown Up

FOUR PEOPLE!

     This whole week I've been sick, and in my phlegm and fever induced haze I've been thinking a lot about what  it will be like to be a real adult. What really started it off was Monday morning, when I had to contact 4 people to let them know I would not be coming to class/work that day. FOUR PEOPLE! By the time I got to the last phone call I couldn't help but wonder if I was really sick enough to contact FOUR PEOPLE and tell them of my invalid status. By that night I figured I didn't need to contact one more person and I was going to go to my musical rehearsal. I thought maybe I would be able to sweat off my sickness, but no such luck. It is extremely frustrating to be sick and not a real grown up, because if I had a grown up job I would only have to contact one person to tell them I was sick. In order to paint you a better picture of what my adult life will be like, I have written this story in the fashion of a children's book.
     When Kersti Marie woke up one day, she went about her grown up way. She brushed her teeth and combed her hair, there was no homework anywhere. No plays to dissect and no class to attend, if she wanted she knew she'd have time with a friend. 

Perhaps one day...

     Her job took all day and sometimes went late, but with no homework to do she always felt great. When she got home she had time to clean, and even completed before 8:15. When she was in college she didn't have time, and never finished her cleaning by 9. One day in school she came home very late, and decided to vacuum at 10:58. Her cat was not happy didn't like it one bit, and so on her carpet a hairball did spit. Now that she's grown and home with more time, her cat gets attention and never does whine.
     In college no time for meals so fancy, instead she feasted on Chef Boyardee. Nowadays she can spend her time, in cooking fine meals and drinking fine wine. When she returns from a long day at work, her exercise plan she never does shirk. When her time is not taken with group work and papers, she has time to assign to her fun reading capers. 
     Her schoolwork behind her she looks with repose, on her college days when she was kept on her toes. With fondness she sees all the late nights with friends, and walks down her memory lanes once again. Then with horror she sees the day she was sick, when she had to contact FOUR PEOPLE.
                                                                        The End

ps.I like college, it's fun...but I wish I had more time in my day.

College is fun!

Scandinavian Adventure Part V: Roots...with a Toby!And the Homeward Journey.

Unto this point our author has seen the wasteland of Iceland, climbed the extreme hills of Norway, dined on salmon, and met all Swedes. Now join us as we conclude Scandinavian Adventure.

Exhibit A:Stupid American

     By the time we reached my dad's relatives in Junby we were all very tired. There hadn't been much sleep and there had been a lot of meeting people. It is really surprising how tired you can get when there is a language going on around you that you can't speak. I felt like a stupid American because I came to a country expecting to be able to speak English and get around, thankfully that was the case because we would've been in trouble otherwise. We drove to my dad's relatives after saying a very extended goodbye to my mom's relatives. I had no idea how I was relate to some of the people we encountered, but I was assured that I WAS in fact related to all Swedes (as I had previously thought). Upon our arrival we were greeted by a woman named Asa(pronounced Oh-saw) who was waving madly at the end of the driveway. Last summer she had come to visit us in American along with a large group of my dad's relatives. It was fun to know I would be seeing people I had met before, and especially Asa.

Asa, just walking

     Something you should know about Asa, she is the most lively person I have ever met in my life. You can't help but want to laugh when you're around her. One of my favorite memories of Sweden was when we were at Asa's cottage and I was walking in to use the bathroom. She came bustling out of the house in a strapless black bikini and matter-of-factly asked me "Would you like to take a bath? There is nothing like a quick bath!" Dumbfoundedly, I said no thank you, and watched as she bounded down to "bathe" in the lake. I was in complete shock as I stood there, and it took all my willpower not to laugh out loud at the scene I had witnessed. Did I mention that Asa is in her 60s? She has white hair that springs from her scalp in tight curls, and she always wears a headband. She has black glasses that she wears at the very bottom of her nose, and she always looks like she is about to smile.

I want to go to there!

     Back to our arrival, we walked into the home of my dad's relatives and were greeted with the most amazing scent of cooking salmon. I really had a thing for salmon at this point and I was so pumped I got to eat it again. The rest of the trip was a blur of family and food. We got to go shopping in Junby, and we found some really cute shops. Of course, when you're in a foreign country everything seems cute. The most magical thing about shopping in Sweden (and Norway), is the grocery store. You may be thinking, this kid is crazy, what the heck could be so magical about a grocery store. Oh ye of little faith, thous has never encountered the  amazing candy wall. I still have dreams about the candy wall sometimes. It is an aisle in the grocery store that is complete of candy. You can take a scoop and plop it into a bag. There are the most fantastic candies to be had, and all at the same price. My eyes could feast for days on that wall of candy. Needless to say I filled my candy bag to the fullest, and was not mad at all when I had enough to take home with me.

Hard work...then cake.

     While we were with my dad's relatives we partook of the Pearson/Perrson family reunion. We had different last names as a result of the whole "We can't pronounce that in America" thing, when the ancestors came over. This reunion took place outside, until it rained and we were forced to hurriedly move into the barn to finish our meal. It was a great spread of food as per usual, but the desert was fantastic. It was a mixture of fruit, cream, meringue, and awesomeness. I can't even remember how many pieces I ended up having. After we had digested our food, it was time to get to work. The relatives brought out scythes, pitchforks, and rakes and said we would be cutting the grass. They told us it was tradition, and more fun than using machines because machines are loud and prevent us from talking to each other. We were shy at first, but finally we decided to get down in there and cut some grass. It was the most fun I think I've ever had at a family reunion. I didn't think that physical labor would be required of me, so it was all the more fun to find I had been slightly useful. I had a blast talking to some of the relatives who were around my age, and after we had finished cutting grass we "took a wade" in the lake. And after all the work it was, of course, time for more cake.

Our dinner scenery.

     On our last day with the relatives they took us out to a little island out on the lake. This is where Toby comes in...although it should probably be Tobi since his name is Tobias. No one ever called him Tobi, but it fit in with my Roots thing, and I think he must've been called Tobi at some point in his life. Anyway Tobias and his father Dan(pronounced Don),  helped us get into the boat and on our way to the island. Once we were there we set up a grill and had hotdogs, potato salad, and a really tasty Swedish beer. We stood right next to the lake and ate our supper as the sun went down. I was able to wander around the island and climb some rocks, and of course get lots of pictures of nature. Everyone was smiling and laughing, as we shared our meal and enjoyed the gorgeous scenery. All too soon it was time to leave, and we got back on the boat to the mainland.

BEST NERD MOMENT EVER!

     The next day we gave a sad goodbye to the relatives and started on the road to Denmark. We were leaving from the Copenhagen airport, and got to take the bridge from Sweden to Denmark. This bridge goes under the ocean and it is so weird to slowly start going in a tunnel under the water. As soon as we got to Denmark I said "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark!" I think one of my sister's replied "It's probably you." I was slightly disheartened that my Shakespeare moment was thus ruined, but I wasn't leaving Denmark without a picture of me making a face. When we got to the airport I looked everywhere for a sign that said Denmark, and I finally found one. I put on my "something is stinky" face and made my mom take the picture. I will always cherish that moment, and know that I am a literature/theater nerd to the very end.
     Our flight back was a tired one, but my television worked the whole time so that was just fine. It was very exciting when I heard my dad say he could see Duluth out of his window. I started to get antsy as we finally landed in Minneapolis. My sister Kari had her mother-in-law meet us at the airport and take us back to Kari's place. We were very excited to see someone we knew, and to have someone welcome us back into the country. When I finally made it home, everything seemed so still and quite. I felt like I was finally able to rest, until I looked at my suitcase and decided to bring all the memories back up to the surface. With all my Sweden swag splayed out on the floor, I tenderly looked at each item and made sure to attach a memory to it. Holding up my moose socks I closed my eyes and saw myself standing in Norway once again.

Scandinavian Adventure Part IV: Roots, but with less whipping and nobody named Toby

     Up to this point in our author's journey, the scenery has been completely Norwegian (with a hint of Canada and Iceland thrown in there). Now it is time to broaden your minds and journey across the border to SWEDEN!

Foreign Countries are AWESOME!

     This was basically the point of the entire Scandinavian adventure, Sweden. Last summer my dad's relatives from Junby came to visit us, and that was the first time I had met any of them. It was after their visit that my mom decided it was time for us to go visit them as a family. To get to Sweden we had to walk to the train station, then take a bus to the airport, and then pick up our rental car. The bus was quite the interesting time for me. I hadn't been able to get much sleep as our hotel room was right above a Norwegian club named Oncle Donald's. Yes, that is Uncle, but with an O. Anywho, my sisters and I were up late into the night listening to the American music drifting up from the club. We would've gone down to party, but we were already in bed and it just wasn't worth it. This lack of sleep caught up to me on the long bus ride to the Swedish airport. Holding my backpack tightly in my lap my eyes slowly began to close until WHAM! I jerked out of my sleep and ended up throwing my waterbottle loudly onto the floor. I get twitchy when I'm falling asleep, and I was so tired it was like twitching...but on crack. The Norwegian lady sitting next to me gave me a funny look and my entire family was snickering at me. I cheerily put my bottle back into its pocket on my backpack and proceeded to doze again...WHAM!Another major twitch sent my waterbottle careening down onto the floor. Apparently, it was even funnier the second time. Sadly I set my nice warm backpack on the floor and crossed my chilly arms across my chest. I'd been embarrassed enough for one day.

Ahhh if only

     When our bus finally pulled into the airport we navigated our way to get our rent-a-car. It was a Volvo. You know, no big deal, just cruising around Sweden in a Volvo. This was all new to me as I had never set foot in a foreign car before. My sisters and I squeezed into the back seat with all of our luggage jammed into the tiny little foreign car trunk. I was instantly transported back to my childhood when we were all forced to share the back seat on family vacations, and it was NOT a lane I wanted my memory to be going down. Somehow we made it and ended up in  Smalandsstenar, birthplace of my great-grandfather Oscar Moller (later changed to Miller). Upon arrival we realized we couldn't find the relatives house. Since we didn't have our cell phones this proved to be very challenging, but somehow we found our way to the home of my grandpa's cousin. My grandpa could speak fluent Swedish and he kept in contact with his relatives in Sweden because he was very proud of where he came from. He took many trips to Sweden, and when my mom was 16 she got to go with him and my grandmother to visit the relatives. This was another reason we were in Sweden, she fell madly in love with the scenery and wanted all of us to see it.

MORE FOOD=Second Feast

     A few interesting twists and turns around Smalandsstenar later, we were at the relatives house. Upon walking in the door we were greeted with handshakes, hugs, and some kind of mesh of Swedish and English. There we were, a pack of jetlagged, bedraggled Americans in a Swedish house being greeted by several relatives and a very excited black poodle. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew (and I mean I REALLY knew) I was related to these people. The next few days passed in a blur of family reunions, trips to the old haunts of my great-grandfather, and so much food. Every time we turned around someone was standing with a plate of food in their hand and a smile on their face. We had no idea how to say "I'm full! No thanks!" in Swedish, so we had to eat it. Not that this was a severe punishment or anything, because the food was always good. The bread was fresh, the fruit absolute perfection, the coffee was so strong you felt it down to your knee caps, and the desert was just a completely ethereal experience. I swear that the food in Sweden is made with some kind of Scandinavian magic.

The Shloop Shloop Cast Iron Factory

     We spent 3 days with my mom's relatives exploring the many wonders of Smalandsstenar, including the Skeppschult cast iron factory. My mom was convinced you pronounced it "Shloop shloop". A fact that was disproved by the many laughing Swedes as we told them how she said it. The correct pronunciation is more like "H-Whep shult", but my mom has a Swedish speech impediment and cannot say "H-whep". She was teased mercilessly by us, and I will always remember her shloop shloop because of the cast iron Skeppschult bottle opener I purchased. We also went to the "Second Hand" store my relative worked at. The many wonders of Sweden were ours at extremely reasonable prices! My sisters and I were very excited to finally begin shopping, but little did we know the wonder that was coming our way.

Swedes:I'm related to ALL of them.

     Ullared is a town you probably would just drive through and not think twice about it, but they hold the most wondrous shopping I have ever experienced! Gekas is the name of the store and it is Ikea meets outlet mall, meets Target. You could get EVERYTHING there, and it was all at a reasonable price. Of course we wanted to pick up a few staples, but clothing was the key item we were after. Once we had all selected some sort of Swedish stylery, it was time for fika. This is when you drop everything and have coffee. Swedes drink coffee (and tea, but coffee fits them better) as one of their main beverages. So many traditions in my life started to make sense as I saw Swedish people drinking coffee with every meal. When our shopping was done we collapsed in a tired heap, only to be greeted with plates of food.I would tell you more about my days with my mom's relatives, but in all honesty it is a blur of laughing, Swedish, SOOO MUCH FOOD, and a lot of good conversation. When it was time to leave we were all really sad. Using the little bit of Swedish I picked up I said goodbye to Clara and Ellen, the little girls who had become special friends. I hugged the cousins, and I especially hugged the wife of my grandfather's cousin. Gunnel reminded me so much of my own grandma, I could see why they called each other at holidays and birthdays, and kept in touch with letters. Her cheery smile made each of us sad to say goodbye. We hopped into our Volvo and waved goodbye to our family members, and so we traveled on to Junby were upon we met up with my dad's relatives.

Scandinavian Adventure Part V: Roots...with a Toby!And the Homeward Journey.

Scandinavian Adventure Part III: Norway, Origin of “Uphill Both Ways”

     Previously on “Mild Musings”, our author had taken a plane ride to a foreign country where tragedy struck…her television was broken. After she braved thousands of TV-less miles she arrived in Norway and began an adventure around the city of Oslo. Hereupon she encountered skinny jeans, naked statues, Deli de Luca, and a really cool shower. What will she behold next?

Hereditary Tastes Indulged

     What I beheld was hills…and lots of them. Our second day in Norway brought us out of Oslo and into the countryside. We had a very tasty breakfast in our hotel, in the coolest breakfast nook I’ve ever seen in my life. There was an amazing spread all laid out for the taking, and it was very heavy on the cheese. Scandinavians like their cheese and they like their fish, so that’s basically what was available for breakfast. Now this may not sound delicious at 8am, but it was so good. I took a bite of my salmon and cheese open faced sandwich and something clicked inside of me. It was as though my whole life my hereditary tastes were trying to get my attention, and now in this most perfect moment, they had. After finally finishing our fishy feast, it was time to catch the train to Lillehammer…well, catch the bus to catch the train.

Mountain Chain?Or glorified hill?

     Eventually we were seated on the train and going toward Lillehammer. The Norwegian countryside is breathtaking, and like nothing I’ve ever seen before. There are so many hills and trees you can’t help but be amazed at the sheer grandeur of them. Tiny farmhouses are tucked around every corner, and almost every single one is painted red or yellow. Occasionally there would be flashes of silver as the sun sparkled off of the rivers and lakes. Soon our train came to a stop at the base of (what seemed to me) a small chain of mountains. We had reached Lillehammer and were now seriously relying on Kari to guide us. This was a little more warranted, as she had lived there for four months. Taking the lead Kari told us we were going to a museum called Maihaugen.

OLD BUILDINGS!AND SCENERY!!

      “Seriously?!? We couldn’t have found some other way to get here?!” “Why won’t this hill end?!?!” “Does the museum have to be at the top of the hill??” “Are we going up at a 90 degree angle?” These were just a few of the comments from myself and my family as we walked to Maihaugen. It was pretty bad. The hill made us feel like we were walking straight up, and you could not tell where the museum was so no one knew how far or close we were, except Kari…and we weren’t about to trust her scale of distances. The good news was we saw a hospital in case we collapsed from exhaustion. After much huffing, puffing, and one father almost throwing himself down in defeat we were at the museum. Once we were inside we headed off to look at the exhibits that were old buildings. Now I’ve been to museums before and seen old buildings, but never in my life have I encountered a building from the 1200s. It was the coolest thing that has ever happened to me, aside from the time that I won an iPod touch at my senior prom. The history nerd inside of me was jumping up and down in a frenzy to be around so much history.

Dragons...on a church!

      On the roof of the church building was a carving…of a Dragon and it was awesome. There were a lot of surprising things around the museum, like old sewing machines, hay drying on a rack, actual cows grazing, and the amount of hills. The buildings made it seem like you were in an old village that slowing working its way through the centuries, and so it took a lot of walking to make it all the way from 1200 to 2000. Then there was the fact that we were all carrying semi-heavy loads. I toted around my sister’s messenger bag for a while because it held my book. My dad felt his windbreaker was too much for him to handle, so I was saddled with that as well. Every time I tried to give it back to him, he would find something very interesting to look at, but I was so persistent he finally took back his jacked. After we made our way about Maihaugen and I geeked out over an advertisement for “Peer Gynt” we had a lunch of Vaffles. Yes, vaffles, not waffles. Vaffles are so tasty and pretty, so they get a V instead of a W.

Seriously drooled over this.

      It was now time to hit the town, and we hit it hard. Going down mainstreet (somehow to get down to mainstreet we went up more hills?) we cruised every shop that caught our fancy, but Kari advised us to wait until we saw the inexpensive souvenir shop. Walking into the shop was like entering a wonderland. Scandinavian objects were lined along the wall and we felt as though we were welcomed. It was at this shop that I found a cheese slicer shaped like a moose. This was perfect for my friend Chris, as he loves cheese…and doesn’t dislike moose. Moose are a big deal in Norway, and that is probably because moose in general are a big deal. You don’t mess with a moose, you just observe them and are allowed to be impressed by them. For this reason I felt it my duty to buy a pair of knitted socks that said “Norway” and had plush moose on the ankle part so that my feet could pay their respects to the moose. Once we had made our final purchases it was time to see the school Kari had attended.

Looks like "The Sound of Music", I was so excited!

      Tucked away at the base of one of the Lillehammer mountains was the college. Thankfully, we were able to take a bus to the college instead of walking. Never fear, we had to walk up hills once we got to the college. It was a very small college and it was adorable. The buildings looked more like homes than classrooms, and you could feel the old age of the area in the campus. One mountain sat right behind the apartment Kari had lived in, and you had to look straight up in order to see the top. I praised God that we didn’t have to climb that mountain. After we were done looking at the college we made our way back to town and moseyed into a convenience store. Kari ordered a hotdog on something called lompa. She told us we needed to try it as well. We were handed hotdogs on what looked like the love child of a pita and a piece of lefsa. Taking a bite of my hotdog on lompa I was transported into another world. This hotdog was not too salty, and it actually tasted like meat instead of byproduct. The lompa cradled it gently and gave it a smooth floury feel. All too soon my hotdog was gone, but this was okay because then it was candy time.

Norwegian mittens and jam...together at last.

      Norway is a magical place, a place where every grocery store has a wall of candy. It is so mystical to stand in front of the wall of candy and know that everything here is good, except the Lakerols…don’t get those. My family and I shared our candy with each other and Anna handed me a gummy candy shaped like a soda bottle. I took one bite and was hit with an extremely sour sensation, and then it bubbled. They tasted like soda, but also like candy, they were amazing. Kari had bought a thing of candy in a hockey puck-shaped container. Wearing one of her recently purchased Norwegian wool mittens; she opened the puck container and spilled salt everywhere. It was salt in the hockey puck and not candy. Oh the many surprises of Norway, where candy is salt, uphill never ends, and you have to pay to use some public restrooms (which smell really bad). After a lovely hill filled day, it was time to journey back to Oslo and prepare for the next leg of our journey, Sweden.

COMING SOON! Scandinavian Adventure Part IV: Roots, but with less whipping and nobody named Toby.