Journey to the Past

Since my post about coffee consumption in Finland, I have been literally inundated, flooded and consumed by questions about my darling Raija's distain for the substance.  And I use the term "literally" in the standard American meaning of "not literally, but in a figurative and exaggerated sense" and I use the terms "inundated, flooded and consumed" in their standard meaning of "not one person has asked about this."

So, in the face of this overwhelming demand, I have no reasonable alternative but to making up a demented and half-baked story that has the most tenuous connection to Raija's preference for drinking tea:

I know that most of you have assumed (especially after reading my prior post about the 1000 centiliter forest in the middle of Helsinki) that this is a picture of Raija, with flowers growing out of her hair, in a wood cabin that her father made with his bare hands.  Sorry, folks.  You've clearly been spending too much time reading something that has rotted your brains.  This picture is not that at all, but rather is a picture of Riaja, with flowers growing out of her hair, in a wood cabin that she made with her bare hands.

Anyway, the true story of Raija's love of hot tea was revealed to me when her son Joona had surgery to fix an obstructed airway in his nose, which was the result of having his nose broken several times while engaging in martial arts.  (Obviously, though I have loved Raija from the first moment I met her--especially if she is reading this blog--my love reached a totally different level when I learned that her son can break me into little pieces.)   So after his surgery, Joona was sent home the same day and told that the bleeding would stop in 30 minutes and he could return to work the next day.  Three hours later, when his nose was now gushing blood like a faucet and he was fast becoming inundated, flooded and consumed (I am using those terms now in the unique sense of meaning "inundated, flooded and consumed") by his own blood, he was back at the surgery center, where they discovered that he lacked the normal clotting component to his blood.

Most of you already have figured out what that means!  But for those of you who have not learned your European history from animated films, let me clarify.  By giving you this remarkable piece of information.  The literal translation of "Raija" into English is "Anastasia!"

Still not convinced?  Just look closely at the picture.  See all the snow in the background?  You don't have to be a genius to know that you are looking at January in Finland.  Or maybe April.  Or September.  Still have some doubts?  Then look carefully at the gentleman to the left of the staircase.  I hate to brag, but there's no one else in the history of the world but me that looks that good.  Surely you recognize me.

Oh, yes.  One thing.  When I say "to the left" I mean to Raija/Anastasia's left.  In other words, to the right.  Case closed.

So the answer to the question of why does Raija prefer hot tea to coffee is the obvious one.  Because she is a direct descendant of the Russian royal family.  And as her husband-to-be, you know what that makes me.  Incredibly Lucky.

But you already knew that.