Monday.

On Saturday went fishing. We go fishing once per year most years. Saturday was a lovely morning so we decided to go fishing. The six of us packed a small picnic (this turned out to be fortuitous -I think that's the word I mean- in view of our fishing fortunes) and set out for the preferred lake by our preferred means of transport. Four of us walked through the forest (Ann, Ruth, Freja, and Meself). Lasse drove (well, to as near as possible) and Tuva cycled (both the latter two along rough track, then walked the last half mile or so with the rest of us. We launched the little rowing boat and I rowed Ann, Ruth, and Tuva , across to the 'island' where they disembarked and lit a fire to cook the fish that the other three of us then attempted to catch. Freja (eight) caught a medium sized perch, and we two blokes caught sweet Fanny Adams !!!! (a second World War expression whose derivation I won't trouble to explain - mainly because I don't know it -but whose meaning is I think plain. We eventually did cook the fish over the fire with a little lemon salt, and we all had a taste, but we were jolly glad of the picnic. We then (well five of us -meself and all four ladies -Lasse had a post prandial nap- took the boat and explored a bit more of the lake. We found a small secluded beach, with a circular stone fireplace, and about 90 percent of the dried up skeleton of an elk (disarticulated) and then spent a while discussing the probable sequence of events that could have led to these grisly remains. The girls decided that the likeliest events involved pirates, canibles and castaways, so we rowed away quickly before any hostile natives returned. Should add that Freja took away with her five elk front teeth as memento mori. Must close now as a cheese ommelette calls.