As if I didn't get my fill of all things Swedish at the festival yesterday, I convinced The Mister to take a trip to my favorite place on the planet.
Last week when I was making plans for what I was going to do with my Lottery winnings if I had won (I didn't) the first place I was heading to was Ikea. When I die, I want my ashes scattered in the showroom. Just throw a bit here and there under the cushions and rugs and I'll be eternally happy.
I make the trek up to College Park every December to see what Christmas goodies I can add to my already shameful collection of junk. This year, I have to admit, the display was a little sparse. I was underwhelmed until I took a closer look.
Along with the regular traditional Swedish bric-a-brac there were some new things.
There were knitted hearts.
There were also balls of yarn used as ornaments.
I didn't buy any of the yarnie stuff as it would prove too tempting for the bad house kitties but I did bring home some little glass people, wrapping paper and bottles of unknown drink stuff that I buy every year and never open. This year I am starting a new tradition. I WILL drink some on the 16th which is my birthday. 59. Ugh. I may need something much stronger than this to get over that.