Autumn cold, fruit salad and grandmother’s love set the tone for a quiet Saturday filled with small miracles. Therefore I let the words land in the middle of life’s quiet rhythms.

A quiet Saturday with a touch of headache and sniffles, yet filled with gratitude for fruit salad, grandchildren’s hugs, and the crackling of a wood fire. Today, I let the words land in the middle of life’s small miracles.
Read this post in Swedish →Höstförkylning, fruktsallad och farmorskärlek

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Morning with a Headache and Quiet Thoughts

Here I am again. The morning has been slow, and I woke up with a dull headache. Our little girl has fallen ill, and yesterday the little boy said he felt unwell again. My worry whispers: Will this turn into one of those endless family colds, passing around all autumn?
I myself only have a mild runny nose, but our youngest has just completed his first week at school—so maybe the next round is already waiting.. Time to think of faster vitamins, more fruit and berries.


Autumn Cold and Fruit Salad – Everyday Miracles

Yesterday I prepared a large bowl of fruit salad. The little guy loves fruit salad and I heard him open the fridge several times to take another spoonful. That makes me so happy. Fruit salad takes so little effort to make and provides both vitamins and fluids. Consequently it is an extra gift that it tastes so wonderful.


Family Back Home

Yesterday our daughter, her partner and the kids returned from Greece—a journey that began around 10 a.m. and probably had them home by 6 or 7 p.m. When they reached Färgelanda, they stopped by because Alfred needed to use the bathroom. Meanwhile it felt so good to see them again. The moment I heard their voices, all my worry melted away.
Before Alfred left, I received several warm hugs. He eagerly told me about what he had eaten and experienced. Finally my heart was calm again—such a simple, yet immense, relief.


Rainy Walk and the First Fire in the Stove

My husband and I decided to take a walk, but we happened to choose the very moment when the rain poured the most. Therefore we turned back, drenched from the tap in the sky. During the week, I had prepared the basement stove, and yesterday we lit the first fire of the season.
A little out of practice, I had to try a few times before the fire caught. Eventually the warmth and crackling filled the room and my body with peace. I spent the evening knitting Hugo’s sweater—a project I’ve unraveled and restarted several times. This time I’m keeping it simple so that it will finally be finished.

Cozy stove fire – warmth and grandmother’s love on a Saturday of autumn cold and fruit salad
Cozy basement stove with a crackling fire – autumn cold evening, fruit salad and grandmother’s love in the air

A Grandmother’s Love in Every Stitch

Hugo’s knitted sweater – grandmother’s love and care on a quiet Saturday with autumn cold and fruit salad

Hugo’s knitted sweater – a grandmother’s love and care on a Saturday with autumn cold and fruit salad.

Knitting is hard when I cannot try the sweater on Hugo. Perhaps he will never receive it. Still, I plan to leave it in their mailbox and let his parents decide. Even if it is not a physical hug, it is made with a grandmother’s love—the closest hug I can give right now.
I also plan matching wool socks, a hat and mittens—as far as the yarn will stretch.


Questions for You, Dear Reader

  • How do you care for yourself when the autumn colds make their rounds?
  • Do you have your own small traditions—like fruit salad or an evening fire—that bring comfort to everyday life?
  • Do you knit, bake or create something that carries a quiet message of love?

AHA – Between the Lines

It is in the small, quiet moments that life shows its strength. Preparing a fresh fruit salad, walking in the rain or knitting a sweater that may never be worn—each action can be filled with love. Care does not need applause to be real. It lives in the deeds—silent, yet stronger than words.


Reflection

Today I am reminded that love does not always receive a response. To cut fruit for a salad when illness is near, to knit a sweater without knowing if it will be used—both carry the same message: to give anyway. To love anyway. Perhaps this is where life’s richness quietly unfolds.

Höstbild från Kungshamn.

Yesterday has already settled into history, tomorrow waits further ahead. But right now—this is where life happens.

– Carina Ikonen Nilsson


Closing Words

So it became a post today after all. When I woke up, I felt no inspiration, but as always, the words came while I sat here. The coffee turned cold—but, as usual, it is a beautiful Saturday, and I wish the same for you and those you love.

—Carina Ikonen Nilsson


Your Voice: Between the Lines

Beneath these simple words lie both worry and trust. Love for children and grandchildren takes shape in fruit salad, hugs and knitted stitches. It is a gentle reminder that care can be quiet—yet never less true.


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Read this post in Swedish-> Höstförkylning, fruktsallad och farmorskärlek

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