IN OLD LOUISE fashion I think a lot before bedtime. This time it's about my family:

I think about my mums manicured, nude pink, perfect length nails. When doing this I see her as the most beautiful woman. It's just nails but that's what represent her. It's superficial but it reminds me of how great she, is inside and out.

I think about my dad working at our old, now, summer house in Torekov in his old, orange T-shirt. When I do that I see him as the perfect man. Caring and and strong. Fixing a trim might not be the evidence of bravery but that's when I realise how much of a family man he is.

I think about my sister hugging her life long teddy bear, holding her arms around his belly and kissing the side of his head I can't help but think how compassionate she is. Holding on to an old toy may for some people just seem childish but for me it says holding on to family. That one thing that keeps you grounded when you're far away from home.

And I think of my brother and our "good nights". How he wants me to lie next to him in the dark so he can tell me all his secrets. No hesitation. And that whatever argue we had earlier that day it doesn't matter because he knows that he can count on me. And that I know that is the best feeling.

Obviously, as a family there are a lot of arguments - but all I can see when thinking about us is long walks on the moor... Dad providing me with a long stick at the age of ten, telling me to hold it up high so that the seagulls won't get to me. Wrestling in the sofa with my brother until dad comes, telling us to keep quite because it's nine o'clock and the news are on. Buying my first pack of thin, coloured pens for school with mum. And her telling me to carefully choose the best colours so that I won't change my mind later on. Or when my and my sister together snuck out through her window in the middle of the night that summer, saying good bye and then going to our seperate parties.

(Sorry, dad. Not a good idea giving your teenage daughters rooms at the ground floor.)

And when I started the same "big school" as my sister in seventh grade. I remember the pride I felt having her as my sister, when she and all of her cool friends would say hi to me. Or when dad looked at me, took a breath and said "just because you've been burned once doesn't mean you should stop playing the game". And when I walked out of my room and saw mum and dad kissing in the corner of the hallway. Acting like two teenagers who haven't seen each other for weeks! And how me and my brother later made fun of it. Or taking my brother out of the country, to Denmark for the day with a few guy friends to discover different pubs. I could see how happy he was for taking him with me. Going on a great adventure. And taking the ferry back, standing at the rooftop looking out over Sweden and Denmark. And my favourite tradition: sitting by the dinner table and how it always ended up with one of us bringing out the encyklopedia to end a discussion.

There is a lot to say about ones family. There is a lot to love.