Daughter is parked in front of the television, enjoying some fresh Midsomer Murders. I’m honestly not keeping track of this, but I suspect Sweden gets MM before many other countries. So, what better way to start the holiday than to settle down with Barnaby and Jones? We’re dead tired, and exhausted, and just a little pooped.
After plugging the television in, the witch was fortunate enough to catch the last twenty minutes of Allsång på Skansen, which is a summer programme much derided by Offspring. Every week there is one hour live singing from the famous outdoor museum Skansen in Stockholm. People queue from early in the morning. And this to listen to Sweden’s big musical stars, and some minor ones, perform some of their own repertoire and also to lead the audience in communal singing. What’s not to like?
The compere is somewhat idiotic and some of the stars are as well. Some, on the other hand, are very good, and much loved by the general public. This evening I was just in time to see the Neil Gaiman look-alike Magnus Uggla take his clothes off on stage while singing an idiotic song. His backing singers took everything off, whereas he remained in his underwear. This on a family show, live, before nine o’clock. I have been away from Sweden for far too long…
The programme also proved a point made by the (British) husband of one of my fellow Swedes in England; namely that you can watch Swedish television for about five minutes before someone plays the accordion. I had watched for roughly five minutes when the accordion player appeared.
If that’s not a beautiful start to a summer holiday; I don’t know what is. And Daughter may ridicule the Allsång, but she is proud of the fact that she has actually been there, where it happens. So it’s not all bad.