Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Baptizing our new apartment in Stockholm

R lived in Stockholm in his 20s and the one person he's stayed closest to in the many years since is a fellow Sicilian who also found himself in Sweden after school. This weekend we had him, his wife, his brother and his wife, and their baby daughter over for a housewarming dinner party.

I can't even begin to tell you how much fun we had.

And, I'm going to go ahead and take full credit for it since I dug out my iPod, which I haven't updated since 2007, and had it playing in the background. I put on the Club/Dance playlist, chock-full of now-quite-old songs, and suddenly these Sicilian men in their late 30s/early-40s flashed back to their youth at Swedish nightclubs and jumped up and started dancing around and I have to say it was most definitely an amazing thing to see.

They picked up random things to wave around in the air to accompany their wildly spastic gyrations—a spatula, a dishcloth, the pan holding the risotto al pistachio that R had prepared (luckily that was just sort of, swayed around, not waved above anyone's head) and had at it.

Moving to a new country is such a daunting thing—an adventure to be sure, but all sense of home and security and your "tribe", so to speak, vanishes. I know I'm lucky to be here with my husband and we have his mom, a resident Swede, nearby to help us and above all provide the comfort and support only a mother can. But a person needs both family and friends, right? That's why being able to laugh with other young women and wives in my new home in Stockholm this weekend was something so very special.

And, these aren't just any women, but thoughtful ones that have heard tell of my affinity for orchids and brought me a beautiful one as a housewarming gift...and a miniature wooden Swedish flag.

I think it's safe to say our apartment has officially been broken in.

One year ago: Pitter-patter-y weekends


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