Ingrid’s laptop got stolen in the burglary (along with mine, and work’s).

I replaced mine immediately so that I could work. The company wasn’t quite as fast with replacing my work laptop – or rather, Dell had delivery problems – but I finally got a replacement this week. But Ingrid has been without a computer until now.

Her old laptop was an old laptop. Her new one is not only brand new but also built for gaming, so she can play Overwatch and Fortnite and whatnot on it. In return for this upgrade she’s getting an extra chore (emptying the dishwasher) and giving up half her allowance, for the rest of the year. She was quite happy with this trade.

I cooked a meal from a Linas matkasse meal kit today. Oven roasted cauliflower with a lentil salad and a yoghurt an goat’s cheese sauce.

Adrian is often a bit sceptical about “Lina food” in advance. (Maybe Ingrid is as well, but at least she doesn’t keep saying so every time.) Afterwards he gives his verdict: thumbs up, thumbs down, thumbs sideways or something in between. Sometimes he is pleasantly surprised. One Lina recipe is now among his absolute favourite dishes. (Pasta with green peas and goat’s cheese.)

Today, Adrian rated the cauliflower a 7 out of 10 and the lentils a 4. Ingrid had the exact opposite opinion: a 4 for the cauliflower and a 7 for the lentils. (Eric and I meanwhile thought both parts were a bit dull and the whole thing below average.) And I guess someone at Lina’s must have thought that this was really good. It’s interesting to see how much our preferences differ.

I cook almost all our meals, but Eric does the Sunday dinners while I am at swim school with Adrian. It struck me this Sunday that his meals somehow don’t taste as much to me as the meals I cook myself. Not because they don’t have flavour. It’s more like the signals don’t reach my brain as strongly or as fast as the signals from my own cooking.

My only guess is that it’s because I spend less time thinking about the meal. When I cook, then I think about what I will cook, then think about it while I’m cooking. I also taste it and smell it for a good while. By the time I sit down to eat, my brain is already prepared and anticipates what’s to come. Whereas when Eric cooks, and especially if I’m not even in the house, the meal can be over before my brain has even properly processed it.

Adrian is sometimes less than happy about his chore of laying the table for dinner.

Another day, another trip to the ice rink. Just as we arrived, it looked like it might start to rain, but it never went beyond “a few drops of moisture in the air” so we stayed for a long while, until we got hungry.

The rink got resurfaced shortly after we came, so we got to skate on mirror blank, newly polished ice for a while.

Ingrid caught a photo of me skating as well.

Today was the first sunny day in ages, so I took the kids for a forest walk. Meanwhile Eric is away in Italy, skiing and cavorting with his colleagues.

Right next to the parking lot where we started, we ran into a playground. That was a good start: it’s been a while since we’ve been to a new playground, and this one had a bit of a climbing / adventure trail and the kids always enjoy that kind of stuff.

Then we walked through Grimsta nature reserve and picked up a few geocaches, until we came to Kanaanbadet (where we enjoyed the last Sunday of summer some months ago). I had been expecting the beach to be completely deserted on a winter day, but the beach café turned out to be open all year round, so there was a steady stream of walkers passing by.

What little ice there had been on the lake had all broken up and lots of large pieces were floating near the shore. The kids tried to fish them out and push them to the beach, but they were slippery and heavy and fragile, so it didn’t go very well.

Then we grilled sausages and walked back to the car.

Browsing travel/outdoors magazines and dreaming of snow.

I’ve just booked a ski touring holiday for April, and I’m really looking forward to it. It doesn’t look like we’re going to get any winter here in Stockholm this winter.

Sometimes on weekends we eat lunch right around those magical ten minutes, starting at about 13:35, when we have sunshine in our kitchen.

(This photo is from the weekend. I am normally not at home in the middle of a Wednesday.)

That spot on the sofa is a comfy one.