Kategori: julekalender

We bounced through a snowy half-light, out through the sprawling suburbs of Oslo and into the countryside. The scattered villages and farmhouses looked trim and prosperous in the endless dusk. Every house had Christmas lights burning cheerily in the windows. I quickly settled into that not unpleasant state of mindlessness that tends to overcome me on long journeys, my head lolling loosely on my shoulders in the manner of someone who has lost all control of his neck muscles and doesn’t really mind.
My trip had begun. I was about to see Europe again.

Fra boka Neither here nor there av Bill Bryson.

Utdrag fra boka The Help av Kathryn Stockett:

All day, instead of laying up in bed, she works on decorating the ten-foot Christmas tree in the foyer, making my life a vacuuming hell with all the needles flying around. Then she goes in the backyard, starts clipping the rose bushes and digging the tulip bulbs. I’ve never seen her move that much, ever. She comes in for her cooking lesson afterward with dirt under her nails but she’s still not smiling.

“Six more days before we tell Mister Johnny,” I say.

She doesn’t say anything for a while, then her voice comes out flat as a pan. “Are you sure I have to? I was thinking maybe we could wait.”

I stop where I am, with buttermilk dripping off my hands. “Ask me how sure I am again.”

“Alright, alright.” And then she goes outside again to take up her new favorite pastime, staring down that mimosa tree with the axe in her hand. But she never takes a chop.

The next morning Ethan and I awoke and sleepily wished each other «Merry Christmas.»
«What are we going to do today?» I asked him.
«We’re gonna chef it up,» Ethan answered joyously.
We had gone grocery-shopping two days earlier, and his small English refrigerator was packed to the gills with all of our ingredients.
«What else?»
«Cooking Christmas dinner will take most of the day,» he said.
I asked if he wished we had waited to open our gifts. I knew that Christmas wasn’t about presents, but there is always a bit of a letdown when that part of the holidays has passed. Although, for once, I had enjoyed giving more than receiving.

Fra boka Something blue av Emily Giffin.

His heart stopped in his chest. For a moment he dared not breathe. Moonlight shone down on the clearing, the ashes of the firepit, the snow-covered lean-to, the great rock, the little half-frozen stream. Everything was just as it had been a few hours ago.
They were gone. All the bodies were gone.

Fra A Game of Thrones skrevet av George R.R. Martin.

The weather was most favourable for her; though Christmas-day, she could not go to church. Mr. Woodhouse would have been miserable had his daughter attempted it, and she was therefore safe from either exciting or receiving unpleasant and most unsuitable ideas. The ground covered with snow, and the atmosphere in that unsettled state between frost and thaw, which is of all others the most unfriendly for exercise, every morning beginning in rain or snow, and every evening setting in to freeze, she was for many days a most honourable prisoner. No intercourse with Harriet possible but by note; no church for her on Sunday any more than on Christmas-day; and no need to find excuses for Mr. Elton’s absenting himself.

Fra Jane Austens bok Emma.

Dagens luke er på sett og vis en reprise. Jeg deler gladelig min julespilleliste på Spotify, som har vokst siden sist. Du finner den HER.

Utdrag fra boka Potensgivarna av Karin Brunk Holmqvist.

Till julen fick de smaka Rutgers vin. Lantbrevbäraren kom med ett paket och en julhälsning från Rutger och hans familj. Men han måste ha tillsatt något, sa Tilda, för det var ju ljusgult nu och han hade köpt etiketter och satt på. Till och med en likadan kork som de hade sett på systembolaget satt i flaskhalsen. Ja, Rutger han kan han, sa Tilda, men så bor han också i stan.

Utdrag fra boka Inn i elden av Aina Basso:

Ho ventar til julenatta bråfell og stova stilnar til sløve brennevinssukk og tung svevn gjennom tronge naseborer. Ho skaper seg om utanfor, vel den vande hamen, den svarte fjørdrakta og det skarpe nebbet. Ho opnar gapet og støyter ut eit raspande ramneskrik. Så lettar ho og flyg over berget og vidda, over sjøen med månelyset som ei skjelvande spegling i den blådjupe flata. Ho tek ein sveip over den kvitkledde Domen, før ho flaksar over sundet til Ballvollen, der festen skal haldast.

Utdrag fra boka Ondskan av Jan Guillou:

Zermatt låg vid foten av det skräckinjagande berget Matterhorn. På julafton följde de den snöiga leden en bit upp efter den sista linbanestationen. Solljuset blixtrade i de vita topparna runt omkring, utsikten var vidunderlig. Pierre pekade ut några av de andra topparna. Där längst borta låg Weisshorn, där låg Breithorn och Lyskam och alldeles intill Castor och Pollux. På andra sidan Monte Rosa låg Italien. Men dom bergen var ju ingenting mot Matterhorn.
De såg upp mot toppen och stod länge tysta.
– En gång kommer jag att klättra upp till den där toppen, sa Erik.
– Du slår ihjäl dej om du försöker.
– Kanske, kanske inte. Men när jag kommer upp skall jag ställa mej och ropa på rådisarna. KOM OCH TA MEJ OM NI KAN!
Ekot rullade nerför den vita fjällsidan. Långt där nere låg Zermatt som ett julbord i ett finare Stockholmskonditori.