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Yesterday was three damsels in a tower, picnicking in a gentle rainstorm. A fat bumblebee was our host. We hadn't meant to consume our entire lunch on the top tower of Stockholm's City Hall, just fortify ourselves after the long climb with bits of cheese. But slowly, the crackers came out (for some), then the bananas (for me), then the lemonade, and before we knew it we were defending our salad and Swedish meatballs from Mr Bee. We had come across the one dry corner of the tower and the view could not be beat. Perhaps my favourite picnic in memory.

Linn took Kitana to the train station early this morning. She let me sleep. I will buy her a present. ("No you won't or I'll kick you in the face," she says, the love.) I slept late. Now my underwear is drying on the balcony and I am full of my new favourite Swedish delicacy, hard-boiled eggs and caviar from a tube. I will bring back a tube for my mother and teach her how to eat this dish properly. A note to my mother: Stop reading my blog or my writing will be compromised. Please cease and desist. Do you really want to rob me of this outlet? Stop, I tell you, or I'll hold my breath until I turn gay.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:06 AM | shower me with attention