Swedish strawberries

Living in Sweden has made me obsessive. In addition to being obsessed with the light, I find that I have another obsession: strawberries. I blame it on the extreme feast or famine extremes here. In June and July, there are cartons and cartons of those tiny and delicious strawberries. I have them every morning on my cereal. Then the other day, I went into the store and could not find any. So I went to another grocery. They did not have any either. I know it sounds silly, but it made me want to cry. (Just so you know, I did not cry. But I do admit that I pouted.) I think it was all tied in with my realization of how rapidly the days are getting shorter, how rapidly I am again descending into darkness. So the strawberries not being around seemed sort of symbolic. Then the next day, I found a display of the wonderful berries at a local mall. So I bought three containers and froze two of them. Now my plan is to hoarde as many of them as I can for winter. At leeast this is a healthy obsession.