Back when I grew up in rural Minnesota, my mother wanted me to keep in touch with my Scandinavian roots.

We haven't lived in the Nordic countries for three generations, but there are still a couple of things that stick around.

Behavioral quirks mostly, and a couple of traditions that have been with our family for as long as anyone

can remember.

Putting porridge out for the forest gnomes was one thing.

My mom used to trick me with these dolls that she'd put in the snow and point to saying,

Don't move too fast, you'll scare them.

Let's not talk about dancing around the maypole.

That stuff's just embarrassing.

The most peculiar tradition is the one about a midsummer night's dream.

I know that's a Shakespeare title, but it's also a traditional Scandinavian thing.

A little something like this.

On the evening of midsummer, you are to collect seven kinds of wildflowers.

Then you bundle them up and put them under your pillow.

If you do, you're supposed to dream of your one true love.

I have three sisters.

They were all about romance and predestination.

And I couldn't have cared less if I wanted to, but every year they'd walk hand in hand, collecting

wildflowers and putting them under their pillows.

And since I was too young to wander off my own, I had to stick around.

That is, until... They decided it was my turn.

It was my oldest sister who made the call.

...