November has flown by, and with it, the darkness has arrived here in Stockholm. Our trip to the States last week broke up the onset of winter drear, but the return was all too fast of a transition to what seem like sunless days.
There is a rawness to the air that could be described as exhilarating on a good day. The cold wetness is marked by running noses and rosy cheeks, and thanks to my new gum boots, I'm not afraid of trekking through muddy splotches before the ground compacts to its annual frozen state.
Truly, I love winter - but mostly because of the snow. And since it hasn't come yet, I'm doing my best to persevere, waking up each morning in hopes that the thermometer has sunk to negative temps. No such luck lately.
In the meantime, we've been enjoying Thanksgiving dinners, from cold cut turkey sandwiches to the whole shebang; the start of glögg season (the incredibly delicious Swedish version of mulled wine, served only in the Christmas season); lussekatt (a Swedish saffran bun, also served only during Christmas); and catching up on sleep from jet-lag, which seems to get worse with each trip we take.
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