This time of year, as long back as I can remember, we've had a family crayfish party. It is almost as sacred as Christmas in Sweden. I have pictures of my father, younger than I am now, holding two huge crayfish, and baby Julia beside him. Photos of our crayfish parties have followed the expansion of our family; high chairs disappeared and reappeared when the grandchildren came; more tables had to be added; the amount of crayfish grew every year as did the number of beer bottles after our sons reached the drinking age. Not everybody could come every year, and we missed two years altogether when we lived in California. But this is the first time there will be a crayfish party, and I am not there. It feels as if I am absent from my own birthday party. (Honestly, I did consider flying over for just one day). I hear reports from the old country about preparations - this year Anton is hosting it. It seems that everybody is coming...
On the other hand, I have always wanted to give my children solid family traditions to take further whenI am no longer around.
1 comment:
I had the pleasure of eating crayfish last week in Uppsala (my first ever), and they were truly delicious. Why not introduce them to Cambridge? ;-)
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