Förlåt mig. My recent updates have been about as frequent as sightings of Elvis. No, I take that back as the King has been spotted in Malmö at least five times in the past fortnight. Rumour has it he has blagged a job at Hemköp working in the bakery section. Apparently sju bullar are always on his mind.
The sluggish blogginess (nya ord) is due to my absence from lovely Swedeland for a portion of the last few weeks. Having rocked back into town the auld svenska is getting rusty and erm, I haven’t been to class for a fortnight. Yikes. That didn’t cut any slack with the relatives of Mrs Swedetalker who dropped by earlier for some birthday cake (not mine in case you were thinking of putting some strumpor in the post) where I was mercilessly tested by the inquisitive Auntie. ‘Speak Swedish’ she commanded in her best headmistress tone whereupon I was forced to explain how I’ve progressed since we last locked horns at Christmas to the amusement of the gathered family who had one eye on the cake and coffee on the table.
Twas the first time I’d really spoken Swedish for a while and while my nerves remained I apparently sounded like I knew what I was talking about. Being away from the classroom has definitely made me anxious for tomorrow’s return but dare I say it I think I’ve still learnt a bit in my time away. Swedish is no longer this alien beast designed to confuse, bemuse and mystify. Instead of worrying of sounding like a ham sandwich I’m slowly getting over the hurdle of speaking in public and my comprehension is improving all the time. Perhaps tomorrow will be a rude awakening but I’m convinced of something – I am learning. (Ed: Keep telling yourself that Swedetalker)
I did pass the birthday cake challenge just in case you were wondering. The eating part mind you