Christmas went by

This Christmas was kind of weird. We were in Lund. There was less snow than I expected, but when we arrived, there was still plenty of it around. Jarl's father was at the rehabilitation clinic, after more than a month in hospital, and everybody was slightly out of synch, I guess. It was strange to visit him there. Sometimes it felt unreal, like a parallel world. Soon, in a couple of minutes, your life will resume its normalcy. I sort of expected a voice saying those words coming out of the blue in the middle of our visits to Bror. It didn't happen.

The bed in our flat was hard as rocks. Even I got a back pain, and I'm not very sensitive when it comes to sleeping arrangements. Was it always that hard? I didn't sleep very well most of the nights and woke up feeling like I needed another eight hours of sleep during the day. Georgie had trouble to fall a sleep. That flat is too small anyway. We need more space. All sorts of space. We spent inordinate amounts of time with food. What for, my sweet goodness? I felt like a fish out of water. Hard to breath. Nowhere to swim. Flapping soundlessly. I feel terrible when I sleep badly. No endurance in the sleep-deprivation department, I'm afraid. Unless it's for a good cause, like writing a blog...

But I enjoyed those tiny moments when Jarl and I could crack a joke together in French. Well, just speaking French sends us both into hoots of laughter, it does. Something only the two of us can really get, or at least that's the way we feel, and we want it to be that way. C'est très tendence! Oh goodness, it was really funny, just between me and him. Private. Intimate. Perfect. Jarl can be real funny in a silly-kiddy-intellectual kind of way. I love that about him. He looks so young and cute, and smart and playful.

And then there was Georgie around, saying things that mesmerize me, amuse me, annoy me, entice me, inspire me, irritate me, elate me, surprise me, embrace me, motivate me, spin me, love me. Georgie has the power to transform trees into castles and mud into gold. Birds can talk. Flowers can cry. You can dream that you flew over the waves. That you made a puzzle of Galo de Barcelos together with papa and papalu. And that's more than magic, it's alchemy.