Midsommar Her name is Lovisa. My grandmother. My father’s mother. My farmor. It was my first Midsommar, or Litha as she called it. With her in Sweden. Not all of that day I remember, and probably fill in the gaps with floral scents from garlands and wreaths of elderflowers and daisies. Those summer flavours of … Continue reading 20 June: dVerse Midsommar