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Today the gods made up for all the long, hot, sun-drenched days we have been suffering under. Today the drenching came not from the sun but from great ferocious torrents of rain. At times, the rain was so loud, I couldn’t hear myself think. And to think, I narrowly missed being out in it. I walked into the house having been shopping, around five minutes before it all started.
Of course, there were brief periods during which the clouds parted and the sun was spotted, vaguely, but, generally, it just rained. It was so bad that, at one point, I had to race around closing the doors because the kitchen was in danger of flooding.
I was hoping that Mirinda was avoiding it given she was out having lunch with Christina, her uni professor. Their original plan had been to go to Emil’s Backe. Now that would have been interesting given the al fresco nature of the place. Given the weather early on, they decided to shift to Tre Små Rum. That was a very good move.
Speaking of Christina, first thing, at the ICA, I noticed a woman giving me a strange look. She was just finishing up at the cash desk as I was leaving my shopping trolley for later retrieval. I didn’t know who she was but she clearly thought I was someone she recognised.
Then, shortly afterwards, once I’d ordered my morning latte she accosted me, asking if I was Mirinda’s husband, in Swedish. I was so shocked, I understood what she was asking. It was then that the penny dropped. She made it particularly easy when she told me she was Christina, Mirinda’s uni professor. She then introduced me to her daughter, who is working at the ICA at the moment.
Apart from that moment of human interaction, generally, for me, anyway, it was a day of pottering around the house and attempting to finish the latest BookBusters tome, The Goliath Curse. A book, incidentally, that has caused a paradigm shift in my thoughts about the Romans.
Mind you, I managed to record my latest Letter from Sweden during a brief quiet, dry period.
But then, most importantly, there was the World Cup game between Australia and Egypt to get through.
Nicoline can stop reading now
What is it with the Egyptian football team? Why do they keep falling over and grasping their legs? I don’t think they should be playing at World Cup level if they are unable to remain upright.
One moment of high comedy in the first half was when an Egyptian player fouled an Australian who fell over and went tumbling and, consequently, sent another Egyptian player flying.
Such a shame that the Egyptians are like that because, otherwise, the two teams were very well matched, both defensively and in attack. So well matched that at the end of the 90 minutes then after the extra 30, the score remained at one apiece. Then came the penalty shoot-out which Australian failed miserably at.
And to think that this lot were absolutely, deliriously, over the top joyful when Australia scored. I can only assume that they were headed for the airport shortly afterwards.
And, can I just add that, with regard to the referee’s head camera, it’s yet another case of just because you can, does not mean you should. It just makes the viewer feel ill. It should be stopped.
