Fagerhult

Fagerhult. A beautiful clearing in a forest, and that is what it is. I get ahead of myself though. The last fifty kilometers north to Jonkoping on the old road, I really dropped into the groove. The right hand side of the road is fine. It doesn't change my hamdling, and today it is very much on! At last, even fully laden Elsa and I are in tune. I feel the impatience to arrive, and imagine she does as well.

I am meeting Ernst at the club house at Domsand, for him to lead me in to my accommodation for the summer, and of course to meet the owner, Lars. Being on the lane leading to the club house feels wonderful. I waltz Elsa a few times, making sweeping S's amongst last years pine cones. I didn't whoop. That would have been very un English. I thought about it though.

The little cottage (cabin) is warm and cosy. It is tastefully decorated and well equiped. Small but perfectly formed. It is the perfect retreat here with beautuful views of Lake Vattern. As soon as I had looked around the place, I know how it is to be. I will be OK here. I am in the right place for a while. Ernst and Lars leave me to unload Elsa and unpack. Lars couldn't be more helpful, offering his garage for the bike. Another day when I am confident of not dropping her on the igledy pigldey steeply sloping cinder drive maybe.

It won't be long before I sleep, but first I have a meeting that I have been aware of for some hours now. I have had wonderful company for days now, and I am feeling good. I have laughed at times and been genuinely happy. I knew my grief would be waiting for me in this place, and so it is. It's OK. I'm ready. Never hate your grief. It is proof that we love.

Tomorrow is another day. Face the sun and drink deeply of life.