Be Lagom

If you’re forming a plan,
Of moving to this land,
Then there’s one Swedish word,
That you need to understand.

It’s lagom, the foundation,
Of this excellent nation.
Simply translated it means,
Average, in moderation.

But it’s so much more than that.
Lagom is a caveat.
And more of a lifestyle,
Than just a word, in fact.

Don’t over do it, or be proud.
Do not stand out in the crowd.
Do not bother, or talk
To your neighbors. Not allowed.

It may seem isolating, cold.
Hard to handle, and truth be told,
It takes some getting used to,
This lagom lifestyle foothold.

A lagom Swede causes no strife,
Keeps to his family and his wife.
Doesn’t try to cause a stir.
It’s the Swedish way of life.

So take pleasure, but be lagom.
Don’t take it all, but have some.
Not too little, or too much.
And leave enough for everyone.

A gentle reminder…

Those of us living by the sea,
Are at Mother Nature’s mercy.
A storm blew through,
And reminded us who,
Really runs the show.
It’s Mother Nature, you know.
She’s so unkind, so cruel.
We may think we rule,
But when up to your neck,
In water, all your tech,
Won’t do a thing. Yesterday,
It was nature, all the way…

Thanksgiving Confession

I do love my family most dearly,
And I don’t mean to be rude.
But Thanksgiving Day for me,
Well, it’s all about the food.
Right now that turkey,
Means more to me than family.

Not that I don’t give thanks,
I’m just trying to be frank.
I do feel bad, or at least not good.
But, oh my god, THE FOOD!!!
I’m not only a bad girl.
Maybe I’m the worst person in the world…

So come on, now. Don’t by shy.
More whipped cream on my pumpkin pie.
Right now the thought of obesity,
Really does not scare me.
Just leave me to my fate.
But first put more turkey on my plate.

WORDFEUD!

I’m not trying to be rude,
But you can see that I’m playing Wordfeud,
Keep on talking if you choose,
But my listening is just a ruse,
I don’t care, I must confess,
Whether or not your life’s a mess,
Don’t care what kind of shape you’re in,
I’m focused on this game to win,
I’ll listen to you – rest assured,
Just as soon as I find this word,
Till then I don’t care what you say,
I play to live and live to play!

Heading ‘Holm

I’m heading ‘Holm this weekend,
For Ken’s fiftieth birthday bash.
He’s giving guests a party,
And me a place to crash.
I’m heading ‘Holm this weekend,
On the high speed train, first class.
Much joy and jubliation,
Will surely come to pass.
I’m heading ‘Holm this weekend,
With great anticipation.
Just hope that I can figure out,
Stockholm’s public transportation.

Death on the Window Sill

I think it's dead.

I’ve a colleague who brings plants to work,
It’s nice, but makes us feel like jerks.
Of course they are much appreciated,
Then again they’re almost always fated,
To shrivel and die and then turn brown,
Dropping their dead bits on the ground.
While green plants divert us and delight,
Those dead brown plants just ain’t right.
It’s bad feng shui, or so they say,
Sucking all the life in the room away.
Though they are admired and preferred,
No one remembers to water them but her.
So guilty then all of us feel,
Surrounded by the plants we’ve killed.
So personally I would much rather,
That this kind plant lady didn’t bother.