Strep throat is my kryptonite. I don’t really remember getting it as a kid, but I’ve had it twice as an adult and it knocked me flat both times. This time my tonsils swelled up like golf balls and I got uvulitis, of all things. It’s been over a week and I’m still not completely better. I deal very well with any illness I can work around, but not being able to do anything at all drives me crazy pretty fast.

Summer isn’t my favorite time of year anyway. Summer has a lot to offer–I like swimming, I like the craft fairs and festivals they have all summer, I like all the leafy trees and flowers and fresh vegetables. But I also feel rushed and distracted and, well, spiritually meh. This might sound incredibly cliche and pretentious for a goth to say, but I feel more connected when it’s dark and cold. The main deity/archetype I worship is Hekate, and she’s sort of a nighttime dark moon kinda goddess. When the days get long and the sun reigns, I have a hard time staying centered. But right before I got sick we went to a festival we’d never been to and I had a moment of totally welcome connection with the universe.

Right before I got sick we decided to visit the Ephraim Scandinavian Days festival. Ephraim is pretty far away–almost a 2 hour drive–but Mr. Robot’s heritage is Scandinavian and he really wanted to check it out.

I have no idea what craft and heritage festivals are like in other places, or whether they’re even popular anywhere else, but Utah has a ton of them. Most of them are free, and they’re all various combinations of block party, carnival, craft fair, and historical reenactment. This one was about two thirds block party and one third historical reenactment, and we were disappointed but not surprised that most of the reenactment was focused on Utah pioneers. It was fun, but not particularly Scandinavian.

We drank handmade root beer, looked at some beautiful quilts, ate some surprisingly good barbecued turkey, and played some pioneer games. We were about to leave when we found a very small craft booth we’d overlooked, selling handmade tine boxes. The old guy that makes them lives even farther from Ephraim than we do, but he grew up in Norway and I guess this not-very-Scandinavian festival is the closest he gets to Norway these days.

Looking at the boxes, Mr. Robot and I realized for the first time that even though his family talks about their heritage a lot, they haven’t really passed down any actual Scandinavian heirlooms or traditions. We decided to correct that while also supporting a local artisan by buying a box. The one we chose was made of Indian rosewood–my parents spent 11 years working in India, so finding a Norwegian box made of Indian wood felt like a gift from the universe.

And now that I’m writing this I feel like I’m not doing it justice. Have you ever had a moment where different strands of your life suddenly weave together seamlessly? When no matter how imperfect your life is, you’re still right where you’re supposed to be? Those moments for me are almost always about something small that I could easily overlook or take for granted. I probably miss  most of those moments, but the ones I catch are precious.