After jogging among beet loading farmers on Österlen in the south of Sweden, also called Swedish Provence, deep concentration reigned for several hours at my desk. There’s a fund folder to finish before Christmas; films to see, research to be done, texts to be written, pictures to be found. And even if it is enourmously nice to have as many as at least ten films (details here), more than ever, supported by Göteborg International Film Festival Fund in the programme – it means more work. And nobody at the office needs that at the moment.
But something that was really needed was a driver’s licence for my husband, and today at lunchtime he passed the test. The first ride in the dark was a bit scary but since the purpose was to pick up a lamb and a quarter of a calf (both dead) I managed to hide my fear pretty well. What cannot good local meat make you endure? And I havn’t even started to realise what that licence can mean to me – the possibilities are endless.
But first the calf will turn into a veal meal tomorrow night.