Feelin' Hot!

Wow! What a weekend.

My skin has that slightly tight, tingly feeling you get when you've been hibernating for months and your body suddenly gets a peek at some serious sunshine.

Thankfully, I managed to find last years suntan lotion just as the first rays of our present hot spell streamed out between the early morning clouds on Saturday. We all slapped a good load on while my Norwegian bread dough was processing in the bread machine. The 3yr old device is beginning to tire and not only waddles across the work surface as soon as you turn your back for a second, but the bucket inside has a tendency to jump off its supports on a regular basis too. This results in a coagulated mass of unmixed flour and yeast if you don't keep an eye on it for the first half hour of the cycle.

We took it in turns.

The effort was worth it though. Fifteen minutes in a hot oven and my Norwegian rundstykker (rolls) were ready to be enjoyed with a selection of fillings: smoked salmon and egg, blue cheese and cucumber, local honey or homemade strawberry jam. Mmmmmm - washed down with orange juice, a great start to Norwegian Independence Day. To add to our excitment, during a heated breakfast discussion in Norwegian, The Little Guy asked; "Hva sier du?" There was stunned silence. This was the first Norwegian sentence he has uttered in more than 3 years!

"Who said that?"

"It was him!"

"It was? Are you sure?"

"Yes. OMG, it's still there!"

We were all thrilled that somewhere lirking at the back of his brain is The Little Guy's first language. Maybe with time (and more effort on my part) it will come back.

By midday it was already uncharacteristically hot for the time of year. Our usual smart attire was abandoned in favour of shorts and t-shirts. The kids all remembered their caps (a miracle!) and I dug out the biggest, floppiest sun hat that I could find! With flags at the ready, we set off in the little red truck heading for the city. The thermometer said 92 degrees fahrenheit! (33C)

Tempers were, shall we say, a little edgy. The AC was working flat out and still not penetrating the three sweaty little bodies in the back seat. They all jostled for position, flags bobbing dangerously. The Darling Daughters rounded on The Little Guy, who'd managed to stab one of them in the unmentionables with his flag, as he'd tried to get comfortable, seated between the two paragons of virtue. He burst into tears and declared "Nobody listens to me!"

"Shut up!" they chorused, in true teenage sister fashion. Poor lad. When it comes to dealing with the hormone-laden Ugly sisters, ExpatOwl and I do at least have seniority on our side. TLG however, cannot pull rank and sometimes feels his familial position is only marginally above The Ships Cat and the rabbits.

He wasn't the only one in a mood though. Parking was naturally a nightmare. Suddenly the little red truck did not seem quite so little when the only space we could find was about the size of a Smart car! We all got out so that The First Mate could manouvre the vehicle better. Wouldn't do to prang the sleek, black car in the next space, whose driver was now trapped inside putting up sun shields. It only took us a few moments to get the truck into position, but in that time a friend of the driver in the black car wandered by calling his name. He couldn't see his trapped pal because the sun shields were now up! A moment later a very moody man emerged from the black car, yelling at the passer by and looking daggers at us. For a second I thought he was going to hit me as he tripped over the curb behind his vehicle just to add insult to injury. Yes, it was hot and tempers were frayed.

We found a great spot to view the parade from. This year we'd brought our chairs, so we staked our claim to the only unoccupied access entrance on the street and settled down. I bought our annual treat; Norwegian wiener hot dogs wrapped in lefse and the most expensive bottles of orange soda in the whole of Seattle. It is only once a year.

For the next 2 hours we watched the parade in the uncharacteristic May heat. It was a real combination of Scandinavian and American tradition, with marching bands, national dress, unicyclists and police motorbikes. There were Norwegian folk dancers, choirs, viking ships and clowns all parading on the hottest day of the year so far. We were glad of our loose clothing, even if ExpatOwl said my empire line top made me look pregnant!

I got quite a few pictures of the parade, which was pretty impressive really, as this was my view most of the time:

Yes, it would appear that my dear Japanese 'friend' was not only keen to get the best shots, but he was keen to be in the best shots too! Being the nice reserved Brit that I am, I was not going to succumb to the heat-induced temper tantrums of the Black Car Man and lower myself to fight with my fellow photo enthusiast over the best spot. Instead I have made him a feature of my own photojournal of the day. He certainly made it a memorable parade.

The journey home was quiet. We were each lost in our own thoughts and exhausted from the overpowering heat. I'd fought my way into the Scandinavian grocery store before we left, umbrella chair still strapped to my back and floppy hat obscuring my view. Battling to the counter, I'd stocked up on ingredients for homemade cookies, meatballs and more wiener sausages and was now contemplating many happy hours in the kitchen recreating our favourite Scandinavian tastes and smells. It was a good day.