The Rosen children all play different instruments and they do concerts around Sweden. Our kids excitedly told us it's like having the Von Trapps in our attic--- without any Nazi tension.
With our new found interest in Sweden, I took the girls to our town's Mid-Summer festival.
The dancers arrived by boat and were lead by a violinist to the maypole.
The outfits alone made me want to cart my kids over to the Sons of Norway Lodge to sign them up for dance classes.
But my girls' reluctance to join hands around the maypole was a sign that maybe the classes wouldn't be successful. And getting Bruder into lederhosen seems unlikely.
Horns blasted from the street above, signaling the arrival of the Vikings.
They looked like they'd been at sea for many years.
And isn't it cold in the north?
No bother, their old bones were warmed by the bonfire. And thankfully the eldest Viking didn't remove his vest.
The girls made floral wreaths for their hair.
And Rose had her face painted.
It was a beautiful evening in our lovely Scandinavian Washington town. I'll never hear "Dancing Queen" again and not think of our wonderful friends from Sweden. And if we ever visit, we know we've got a place to stay.
Our dogs will stow away in the luggage.