Herra Björnsson is at the beginning of the end of her life. She has two weeks left, maybe three, and has booked her cremation appointment. Until then she has cigarettes, a hand grenade, Facebook, and her memories to sustain her. And what memories. Herra moved Zelig-like through the major events of the twentieth century. And -- with a bawdy, uncompromising spirit -- she has survived it all unbowed by the forces of history.