No Blossoms —

An Unhealthy Appetite —

Backwater Atrocity — When after a brief liaison with my dad-to-be, Lisbet found herself pregnant with me (it was an accident, my father assured me many years later — thanks a lot, Dad; well, at least he did the right thing by her), her mom Olga (and, I assume, her aunt Ebba and…

Reading Deeply —

My Final Talk with Dad — The day before his execution, I saw my dad for the next to last time. I had never seen him this thin nor this unshaven. In fact, I can’t for the life of me ever remember him unshaven. Yet, here in his cell, with only a day to go —…

Proceed with Love —

As Pure Trust —

My Troll Mother — As a rule, people do not believe that trolls exist. Well, I do; I know they exist, for I have two mothers: Lisbet, my flesh and blood mom, and Minta, my troll ditto. …

Statue? What Statue? — John was born and raised in New York City. I most certainly was not. Still, even growing up in very-far-from-New-York northern Sweden, I had heard of the Statue of Liberty, of course, I mean, who had not? And what specifically, and vividly, stuck in my mind about her was how…