When I was little, my mother would read me a bed-time story. A lot of them were the normal tales British kids get told, like King Arthur and the Lady of the Lake, others left a much bigger impression on me. My mother used to tell me a story about a forest sprite, that in my head looked like a cross between a garden gnome and the goblin from the Sprite adverts, who used to go around the forest collecting mushrooms and toadstools. Every morning when the sun began to shine, its rays would shine through the gaps in the trees, illuminating small pollen fragments that hung lazily on the scented air. No sound but for the ethereal strumming of tree leaves in the light breeze, and the occasional melodic fragment from a song bird, and the sound of dew as it ran off the rocks and collected into a little stream. The golden light that moved behind the tree trunks getting ever higher until the light shone down on the sleeping forest sprite. The sprite would go about his daily activities, and then, from his hole halfway up the biggest tree in the forest, he would lie on his front, with his head in his hands, and watch the snowflakes fall and land silently, packing together like cotton wool, and shining with some celestial glistening that didn't seem to fade. Each flake fell, and the more they fell, the more they each sounded like a little bell.

I know it doesn't make sense, having snow and sun in the same season, but as I child I was enthralled. My mothers descriptions were always so vivid, I couldn't help being transported there. We had a TV show called The Animals of Farthing Wood when I was a kid, and these stories, alongside those of my mother seemed to root me into a forest fascination. Whenever I saw the show, or was in bed listening to my mums stories, for some reason I always pictured them as being in Sweden, or more than likely Finland - the image in my mind of some untouched Finnish forest (or an urskogen, Siiri!) in the summer, sunshine, activity etc. So when Matt asked me why, out of all the places on Earth I want to go to Finland. I tried to explain this to him, but he got bored of listening and looked at cars for sale on the internet. It must be hard for Matt to understand because his idea of a good holiday, is one where he gets a tan and does nothing. I'm all for going away to relax, but I would go out of my mind if I didn't have new locals to meet, a couple of phrases of a new language to learn (although, knowing me, I would probably try to learn it!), new sights to see etc. 

Anyway, I speak of all this, because I stumbled upon Moomins on YouTube the other day. Not the Japanese cartoon, the actual Finnish/Swedish puppet one, that Tove herself was a central figure for. The sight of Little My warmed my heart again, as Moomins was quintessentially my youth. However, the particular episode I watched - The Lady of the Cold - only hastened my opinion that Scandinavians have messed up ideas about a lot of things. Watch it yourself if you have time, its only five minutes long, but I found it quite disturbing now, and I'm 20. Fuck knows what it must have done to younger kids. Although, I remember that purple monster thing in the anime version giving me nightmares for literally years. 

I wanted to post about my favourite books, and how I wish it was summer, so I could go sit in field and read Latin poems about summer, where women are compared to juicy apples, the the main joy is in the food. Then eating bread and cheese and drinking wine by moonlight. And also about cute boys on British TV,  but I've gone on long enough, too many pictures is distracting, and Matt will be here soon. I'll probably end up editing this, because I'm buzzing off coke right now, and this whole post has been pointless. As if you all want to know what my boyfriend and I think of our country.

Matt and I had a very long talk today about The Queen, Matt being a royalist and all, and me being against The Queen as a position, rather than anything against the woman herself. But Matt got me thinking. Our national anthem is just totally dull, torpid, and lifeless. Why can't we have something actually stirring and furiously patriotic like the Turkish İstiklâl Marşı (The Indipendence March), who opens with a tremendous brass fanfare, and begins with the verse:

I find it so utterly heart-wrenching to see such valiant patriotism. When I was in Turkey, all I saw anywhere were Turkish flags flying. Here at home, I only see one flag per town flying on the town hall. It annoys Matt that people don't want to be patriotic; but I can't blame them - What do they have to be patriotic about? A small little island cought between the Atlantic and the North Sea, with one of the highest crime rates, death rates, child birth rates and poverty rates in the EU. Anyway, as I said, Matt sparked converstion, and although The Queen's position as ruler and monarch is now defunct (she still has a lot to do, and a lot of responsibilities such as opening Parliament and stuff), and the countless horrors and atrocities my country has done in the past *cough* the slave trade *cough*, I suddenly had a great surge of pride when I saw this.

You tell me it isn't stunning, and fantastic to look at. Because at college I did chemistry, biology, physics and french, and University I do chemistry and hebrew, I haven't really delved intro British history since ninth grade. But seeing the coat of arms brought it all back to me: Richard Lionheart, King Arthur, The Age of Chivalry, the days where we owned most of France, the fact being we were the worlds most powerful country for a long time. Although England has so much to be ashamed of, and is in a pretty big mess right now, we rule. We rule so fucking hard.