When the sun is setting, between dusk and darkness, there is a moment when the light turns blue. And the world stops for a heartbeat.
Finns are always surprised when the weather is good at Midsummer. Although, I could be a spoilsport and note that every single one of the five Midsummers since we moved bach has been beautiful.
Then again, I still remember the years of +9°C and rain, so I mostly let people enjoy their weather debates.
Anyway, it is hard to capture the essence of Midsummer in single picture. I cheated and made a collage. Good food, good drinks, the midnight sun, summer…
There are many truths about how warm a lake needs to be before it is warm enough for a swim.
Stuart, being South African, thinks 28-30°C sounds about right. Or 25°C with a sauna. For a Finn, that is pure folly.
I am happy with 20°C and 18°C respectfully. But then again, I do not particularly like cold water (for a Finn).
Alanna prefers warmer water too, but anything above 10°C is fine as long as it only comes up to her knees and there is a sandy patch to play in. Swimming requires 18°C or a good reason. And whether something counts as a good enough reason depends entirely on her mood. This spring, she went gor a swim when the sea was barely 13°C.
Kiara doesn’t care. As long as there is no ice on it, it looks good. Above 15 °C, she will happily swim around until she turns blue (and mummi tells her to come out).
In case you were wondering, the lake was close to 20°C.
As the girls have been learning to read over the past year, I have been marvelling at how anyone ever learns to read in English. The spelling makes no sense.
In Finnish, every letter is always pronounced the same way, so once you know the letters, reading is pretty straightforward. To make up for it, Finnish words can be ridiculously long, and tiny changes can completely change the meaning of a word. But still. At least it is consistent.
I was well into my teens before the concept of a spelling bee made any sense to me whatsoever.
Despite being a foodie, even I admit that frying sausages over the fire is part of summer at the summer cottage.
According to my dad, my mum and I cook far too complicated food in the summer cottage. Then again, he considers anything more time-consuming than fried sausage or pasta too complicated. (Unless it is fish, in which case it is never too time-consuming.)
To be fair, we do occassionally go a bit overboard. Or rather, we like trying new things. And more often than not, one element doesn’t quite work out, so we end up improvising as we go.
Generally, though, we have fun.
And my dad has yet to refuse any of it.
So I would call it a win-win.
I went to my first proper music festival in years – and it was pouring down for most of the day.
But once you get soaked, you do not really get wetter.
The gigs were fantastic, it stayed warm and the company – most importantly my sister, brother-in-law and parents – never let the rain get in the way of a good time.
Great day!
I did feel a little sorry for some of the bands on stage two, which was not exactly waterproof. Unbelievably, most of the equipment kept functioning even through the worst downpour.
Food tastes better when eaten outside.
The nearest “beach” to us is just a quick hop away. It’s a secluded little strech of sand, and you can’t get there with a car. Consequently, it is often pretty quiet.
With the weather being great, we went for a picnic on a whim. We grabbed whatever we fancied from a store and cycled to the “beach” for a few hours of games, snacks and scenery. The girls even waded to the water, but it was still way too cold for a swim.
Best night of the week.
As a kid, I loved Finnish baseball (pesäpallo). It’s quite different from American baseball – most notably, because you pitch the ball up, not across.
So, when I came across a set of used pesäpallo equipment for kids at some sale or another, I did not hesitate for a second.
The girls’ success rate of actually hitting the ball is still low enough that we can practice in our backyard. I do not expect that to last long.
I would still love to pick the sport back up myself, but unless you are part of a fairly serious team, you can only really play in summer. And in summer, there is so much else to do.
I enjoy sparkling wine in any occassion, but still it remains the drink I most associate with my mum. And, to a slightly lesser degree, to my sister.
We’ve drunk it together on many occassions over the years, but I think the connection was born in Luxembourg. Stuart and I lived there for a few years, and my entire family came for a spring visit. We spent a whole day in the Mosel wine region, walking, eating asparagus dishes and drinking wine – both sparkling and not. My mum, Noora and I bought a magnum-sized bottle to take home and top the weekend off. If I remember right, we ended up giggling a lot.
The last day of first grade: report cards received, flowers given to teachers. We all even survived singing Suvivirsi (you need to be a Finn to understand that).
Done.
Ten weeks of summer holiday deserve a celebratory pastry.
