My brother...

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..recently moved to Finland.

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Before he moved there, we spent precious days together here.

We talked, he talked.

I made him breakfast, every morning, supper everynight.

He even had cookies and cake every night with his coffee after supper.

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My brother, being the oldest, calls himself the First Child,
he insists ((lovingly)) that I (the oldest daughter) is "second-rate" =)

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My brother, has a sweet side, which he's not able to hide, even when he tries to act snobbish...

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He really likes my husband-to-be.

Which means a lot to me.

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He sends me nice cards where he writes about how I (in the process of becoming a farmer's wife)chose the dung fork over a diamond ring, and a barn over a castle.

He consequently addresses me as "Mrs. my-new-last-name" in those cards

(which I love too).

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My brother is that tall, serious looking, handsome guy on the couch there, in between my granny and my cousin.

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Sometimes he's not serious at all.

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My brother and I were... um... like cats and dogs when we we're younger.

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We would quarrel about who was to clean the bathroom (we both WANTED to),

we'd have competitions who could wrap a packed lunch the best

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.... but we don't do those kind of things anymore.

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He sent me flowers for my birthday...

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I love my brother.

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åslaug abigail