There’s a weekend-long dance workshop in town. While she’s certainly not our first house guest, the situation feels brand new. It must be the Japanese mattress we just bought, which turns our one-bedroom shoebox of an apartment into a temporary bed and breakfast (and lunch and dinner) for Anneli, the journalist from Sweden. I haven’t seen her in years. The most vibrant memory I have of her is ending a three-day stay at her welcoming, warm house, and saying to Anja: “I think I’m going to quit drinking”. (Continue)