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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" =)
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.
*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