So apparently hiking here in Austria is all based on huts. You pick a hut you want to walk to, then find a suitable starting point, and walk from the starting point along a marked trail to the hut and back. Or maybe you do a circular walk, in which case the way back is not the same as the way there, but you will certainly have a hut somewhere on your route. In fact the starting point is quite likely to also be a hut.

The tourist information point here in Mayrhofen was staffed by a friendly lady who circled a bunch of suitable huts for us on a hiking map, and today we tried out the first of these – Steinerkogl, which lies basically straight above Mayrhofen, and on good days probably has beautiful views.

Today was not one of those days.

Today was foggy and wet. It was drizzling already when we got up, and continued that way all day. The valley was filled by a cloud that looked like it was touching the rooftops, and blocked all views.

We went out anyway, because the prospect of spending all day indoors was way worse than getting a bit wet. And while we did get a bit wet, because the wether didn’t get better, it didn’t get any worse either – it hovered in that strange no-mans-land between fog, cloud and light rain.

The views were absolutely non-existent when we got out of the forested lower slopes and onto the meadows. If we hadn’t had a clear path to follow, I would have been seriously worried about getting lost, or losing sight of each other.

It might not sound like fun but this was actually a pleasant hike, memorable rather than miserable. The fog was cool, and the endlessly ziggy-zaggy forest path was like nothing we’ve walked before. Would definitely do again.

Arriving in Mayrhofen in Austria, after a full day of travelling, for a week of hiking. We are surrounded by mountains, and picturesque houses that all have balconies dripping with flowers. And we have a car with a sun roof.

Picking this year’s puny strawberry harvest.

Southern Sweden is suffering from drought; it’s been hot and dry since early May with no change in sight. But we got one bowl of small strawberries at least, enough for one luxurious breakfast with yoghurt and cereal and fresh strawberries.

The Midsummer weekend contained too much eating and lounging around and not enough moving. I was itching to get out and walk, so here I am. Sörmlandsleden, stage 5:2. I like the stages that are easy to reach using public transport, and it doesn’t get much more convenient than this one: it effectively goes from Ösmo station to Hemfosa station.

Well, that’s what it does on paper. In reality the start is about a kilometre from the station, and the end likewise, so the 15 km becomes more like 17 and some. And then there’s the extra detour you can make to a hill with an ancient fort. That one is described as “might be worth making a detour for” and indeed I’m sure there are people for whom that is the case, but honestly I wouldn’t recommend it. I couldn’t see any signs of the fort itself, just a rocky hill with a view barely worth looking at, because whichever direction you look, it’s all the same forest. Or perhaps I was just getting too tired to appreciate it.

This part of Sormlandsleden itself was more varied than most. There were lakeside views, the usual Sörmland pine and blueberry forests, rough spruce forest with plenty of rocks and roots, and even a golf course with its manicured lawns and well-tended shrubberies.

Evening walk with pokemons.

Eggs, new potatoes and herring are givens for a Swedish midsummer. Devilled eggs are by far the most delicious, festive way to serve eggs, so we make them every year. New potatoes need no fancy preparations whatsoever to be delicious. Today we served them with a luxurious summer salad of avocados, asparagus, sugar snaps, pine nuts and strawberries.

Martagon lily.

Much of what I have planted, I have chosen for the plants’ ability to be green, fill space and survive without cosseting. There aren’t many with eye-catching flowers. The aquilegias and alliums that I did plant have basically disappeared. Surprisingly, martagon lilies seem to be among the survivors.

Earlier this year, new benches turned up in the schoolyard at Spånga gymnasium (high school). We pass through that yard quite often because it’s the shortest way to a nearby Pokemon Go gym.

The schoolyard has gotten a facelift in general, but the mosaic benches are in a class of their own. They are works of art, and I am curious to know who the artist might be. I sent photos to a local newspaper and hope that they might have resources to find out more about the benches.

Just look at the way the angular turquoise and white pieces evoke shimmering water, and the iridescence of the cat’s eye – or the way the bottom of a broken plate or bowl becomes a knothole.

Ingrid’s four-day dance and theatre-themed day camp ended with a performance of Oliver Twist, in which Ingrid played the role of Bill Sikes (in an orange velveteen coat).

I am of course far from impartial in this question but in my eyes – and especially ears – Ingrid was among the very best of this cast of twenty-odd kids. She played her role with enthusiasm and feeling, and had a real presence on the stage. The group’s drama teacher shared my opinion and encouraged Ingrid to join a theatre class in autumn. Ingrid had already been thinking in the same direction.

tretton37 moved into a new Stockholm office, since the old one was bursting at the seams. There were usually nearly enough desks for everyone, but the lack of meeting rooms was such that we were sometimes forced to have meetings in nearby cafés or even to rent office space.

The new office is not only larger but better in all ways. It is in an even better location. It has plenty of daylight from large windows, better soundproofing than the old office, and even a bicycle garage. And because we have all this space (so much of it that one could almost get lost here!) we also have room for luxuries such as several sofa/lounge areas, a ping-pong table and even lockers for the employees.

tretton37 has a ninja theme so the interior decoration riffs on that.