I haven’t walked around our rather large block in the daylight for ages. It’s become our Constitutional pre-dinner walk but, this time of year, it’s dark. Which is fine because we get to see all the lights but, of course, it’s difficult taking a decent photo.
One photo I’ve been meaning to get is of Mirinda’s least favourite house. At night, it reminds me of the Bates’ house. I expect to hear a creaking rocking chair coming from the top floor, an old head silhouetted in a backlit window.
It doesn’t look as bad in the light.
Something else that would have looked better in the light today was a bit of a repair job at our house. Last night, Mirinda noticed a knocking sound coming from down the side. On investigation, it was the intake fan for the blow heater. The fan was striking something as it went round.
Anders came round tonight (after work) to fix it.
The poor guy came and went a few times, using hot water to rid the machine of the ice and snow which was causing the noise and which would, eventually, break the fan blades. I dutifully turned the heater off then on to cold then back off then on to heating again. Over a few hours, he managed to clear the blockage and all was well.
Of course, before all of that, it being a Wednesday, I went shopping at Tyresö Centrum.
After the usual wander around the aisles of Ica and the System, I had a latte and a chat at Espresso House before heading back home prior to heading out to Norrby’s for fish soup. Except that didn’t happen.
Mirinda has been giving her staff their evaluations this week and today there was a narrow gap in which to squeeze the Norrby’s trip. The gap came and went before I returned home. Which meant there was no fish soup today.
I asked if we could, maybe, go tomorrow, but she has a big meeting tomorrow and fish soup will once more be off the menu.
Speaking of staff performance reviews, yesterday it was Sarah’s turn. From the kitchen it sounded like they were having a jolly old chat. Mirinda then broke into a torrent of praise for Sarah’s skills, talent and steadfast moral stance on all things important.
At one stage, I bought Mirinda in a cup of tea and Sarah was subjected to my impression of a tomte. I hasten to add that that was Mirinda’s idea and not mine. I don’t think Sarah’s reaction to this impression will have any bearing on her evaluation.
Also up for evaluation was a new gin I found at the System today.
While not one I like – Mirinda hastens to point out that I don’t actually like gin so that’s understandable – Mirinda said it tasted of mandarins.
The Hellström story is amazing and a great success story for Elizabeth, the youngest master distiller in the world. The website succinctly tells her story.