Welcome

Following the crowning of my NHS experience with a stint at a PCT and the resulting redundancy (traumatic, though much wanted and worked for), my husband and I are going back to my roots near a small village in Smaland, Sweden. These are our experiences.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Groaning Boards

This anniversary Graham gave me quite a treat.  Usually I get taken to sample the gastronomic delights of MacDonalds, or, as a special treat, for our 25th I had fish and chips at the English pub in town here.  However, this year, we booked at a lovely, little, hotel in Mullsjö to sample their famous Julbord.  The Christmas table is very popular here and people go with their workmates, families, friends etc several times to several places in the run up to Christmas Eve. Then everyone talks about how it's all gone downhill since last year and they'll never go again and they can never look a meatball in the face again.  It's traditional.
Every Julbord has the same basic ingredients: several million types of pickled dill, smoked cold meats, several different ways of doing salmon, mackerel, herring and cod, cold sauces by the thousand, beetroot salad and mimosa salad, then hot stuff - meatballs, small hot dogs, spareribs, ham, brown beans, red cabbage, janssons temptation, lutfisk (cod preserved in quicklime), boiled potatoes and dop (bread dipped in broth), a cheese board, a sweet table with sweets, a pudding table with traditional cheesecake, fruit, creams of various sorts and biscuit type things.
At Björkhagan, it was all beautifully prepared and very well cooked and there were piles of people all queueing politely.  I'm so pleased I booked in the family name and so we got in early and first (yay for using what you've got!).  There were also piles of food, with chefs running in and out, 10 sorts of pickled herring, 5 sorts of salmon, assorted mackerel, smoked elk, lamb, wild boar, turkey, etc etc.  juicy spareribs and meatballs, etc.  However after looking at the alleged cheddar, I feel that trip to Neals Yard should be mandatory for all Swedes and tinned mandarins and pineapple rings on the pudding table were bizarre, but hey, why not! Graham had a big bowlful and felt quite nostalgic for the 70s.  Apart from a small amount of boiled peas for the lutfisk and lettuce garnish for the eggs, mayo and caviar, there were no vegetables or salad.  Lots of sauces, and cream etc.
After 5 sorts salmon, and some hot stuff I was groaning gently in a corner and was persuaded to try a melon slice before I threw in the towel.  How people pack it all in I have no idea.  We didn't drink anything but a small bottle of Julmust (a cola type drink) and normal water, but people were stuffing their faces with glogg, aquavit and beers as well as all that food.  Now I have to go back and try the cold meats, pickled herrings, breads, sweets and puddings.  May be it'll have to be another 2 goes!

Monday, December 9, 2013

The Joy of DIY

For 25 years I've had a dining set of handmade Arts and Crafts chairs, table, dresser, sofa, serving table and two plant stands. The set was made for my grandmother's parents as a wedding present, came to my grandparents as a wedding present and then to Graham and me and are lovely. Oak, carved with apples.  Apples are unusual as the most common motif is pear, and this sort of furniture is two a penny around here, if you want some. My grandmother had had the dining chairs recovered in the 1970s. Fair enough, they were in constant use.... re-covered in brown vinyl.  This has been on them, wearing extremely well, being extremely practical and looking foul, until this summer.  I've been meaning to reupholster them for years, but never got around to doing it/finding suitable material etc.  And then, a pile of material samples came into the Second Hand shop where I've been volunteering.  Well!  strike whilst the iron is hot, so to speak.  All you need is a heavy duty stapler and you can go from dark brown vinyl to this.


Really, it is that simple!

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Jar o'whisky o

"wine makes life merry" according to Ecclesiastes, but getting hold of it over here is an, errrmmm, interesting experience.  Take Graham for example.  For years didn't touch a drop, had a few beers on occasion and a glass of wine on special occasions, but definitely no more than 2 and was perfectly happy with that state of affairs.  You would have thought that he would do well in a country with a huge history of alcoholism and hence very strict alcohol controls.

You can only buy alcohol over about 3% from the state controlled shops "System Bolaget", no delivery and if you buy a lot, they quiz you, age of consent is 20 years old and there are posters about drinking too much all over the place.  The choice is OK, but limited really and the prices are about 1/3 more expensive than the UK.  There is also far, far too much cheap (?) Riesling available.  As you go around, you get increasingly furtive, your nose starts swelling and going red and the tendency to go 'hic' increased exponentially.  It has improved though, when I was a child, you had to place your order in advance, go round the back alleys to a hatch and have your brown paper bag passed through, cash only.  It was easier to buy hard drugs.

Sunday dinner came around this week and we had a glass of wine (chardonnay, yes, I know!!) with the chicken.  He sat contemplating it, sipped it, sighed with appreciation and said 'it's so nice to have a glass of wine, it feels so sophisticated, I'll have another thanks....... [pauses] the system alone here is enough to turn you into an alcoholic'.

Before he was quite happy to not drink, but the sheer disapproval rating here is enough to make you want to go 'nahhhh' and drink a bottle of vodka at one go. Terribly teenagerish, I know, but there it is.  I long for the days when I could go into Majestic and buy 12 bottles, to have a G&T to relax after a hard day's work a couple of times a week.  Here I'm filled with a terrible urge to explain myself after buying 3 bottles, I sup furtive glasses of wine from a box at night and no G&Ts (cos of no Plymouth Gin, just stuff I've never heard of, allegedly from London) and no one I know goes out for a drink.  If I do they get completely rat-arsed within 10 minutes, which is not fun.

Pricing does work though, we buy much less, but then, we never had a drinking problem...





Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Shopping

One day a while back, a chap had an idea.  He would buy up stock from bankrupt firms and sell them cheaply in his own little shop in a little village in the middle of the forest. This turned out to be a good idea, so good that he expanded his little shop and his little village, which was in the middle of a landscape that must have studied the picturesque to university level, found itself with a yellow plastic brick warehouse surrounded by concrete blocks housing other shops and even a hotel. The car park alone must have taken over several farms and there is a constant stream of cars coming from all corners of Sweden, And a television programme.
And there was me, meandering along to give it a go.  Well!!  The car park, let's begin there... Try Tescos on Christmas Eve, just before it shuts, except on steroids. Fortunately the Viking pensioners steering their Volvos like longships hadn't encountered the London Car Park Glare (for those of you who don't know - "dare and I will have the chainsaw out of my handbag and in your face before you blink" and I was able to defend my space, whilst doing the worst piece of parking I have ever done in my life. but I really didn't dare go more than a metre from the space.  A granny would have whipped in.

Got out, and ambled towards the entrance.  I have never seen or heard so many trolleys in my life.  Read the bit in Reaper Man (Terry Pratchett) when the shopping centre hatches, it was so like that.  Hordes streaming past me, grimly holding onto their trolleys for dear life, rattling like there was no tomorrow.

Just getting that far meant I had to stop for a coffee and a fan.  Fortunately there was a Swedish equivalent of a Little Chef just by the entrance and I was able to regroup over a coffee (surprisingly not bad) and a 'home-baked' bun.  Yeeessss, not sure what sort of home it was baked in, but it definitely did need a social worker.

Once I reached the entrance, I thought that I should get a basket and that was one of the best decisions of the day.  Anyway, I'm not sure that there was really room for one more trolley in that place.  Goodness knows what would have happened in Children's Toys if the fire alarm would have gone off.  There was literally (Yes!!) no room to move in some of the aisles.  People were using the shelves as barbeque racks and living off stray wandering children, whole families had been born in the Barbie aisle and Fisher Price was being passed in to teach the children-of-the-shop to read. I have honestly never seen anything like it. I found myself sucked in as I made a dash from Women's Clothes (people changing in the aisles, shudder) to Kitchen Ware and only escaped by lodging my basket between two trolleys and bouncing back out into Music.

The quietest place was the checkouts.  I was expecting IKEA type queues, but no, they'd got it sorted.

Ullared does definitely have decent stuff at very good prices, so I can sort of understand the urge to go, but as I made my way to the checkout bearing a hotplate for the cafe and various little things I had to get for the Charity Auction on Friday, I decided that if I did go back, (to get things for the cafe you understand,)  it wouldn't be until after Christmas and only then after a strict meditation and calming regime.  Two hours drive and you have to make it worth your while somehow!

Monday, October 14, 2013

Curling

Yesterday the local curling club had its annual open day.  One of the women in our knitting cafe group is very, very interested in curling and invited us all to go.  As I quite like watching it on the telly, if it is on, I thought I may as well give it a go.  I like boule and the curling players scuttle around very easily on the telly, so hey, what's not to like.
I can't really say that the curling club are big on advertising, or signage, but thanks to a very nice, young security man, I found the hall.  Another very nice young man showed me the hall, and found me a pair of shoes, whilst I waved at Anita and Gitten through the glass.  Then I went out into the hall, got my protective headband and broom thing and had to step on the ice.  At which point, I realised something.  Ice is slippery, I hate slippery.  The entire skuttling easily over the ice thing was a big con!
One of the shoes is the grippy shoe and the other is the slidy shoe (technical names!). What is that all about?  and to slide the stone, you have to slide too! on the ice! which is slippery! and I'm terrified of slipping! Arggghhhh!  Anita, Gitten and yet another nice young man looked at me, I looked at them, they looked at me, I looked at them and said, 'there's ice', "yes" said Anita, "curling is played on the ice". "Yes" I said, "I know, I'd just forgotten that ice is slippery". "what?" said Gitten, "you'd forgotten?  since last winter?". "yes, it looks so no slippy on the telly".  Nice young man III was totally bemused at this point and didn't really know what to do, so I took pity on him and slide my left foot about a bit, whilst leaning heavily on my broom and wobbling, at which point he looked a bit panicy, so I asked him what one did next before falling over, so he sensibly decided to ignore that bit and showed me how to push the stone thing.  I bobbled over to the pushy-offy bits and tried to imitate him, but forgot to let go of the stone, so was dragged spreadeagled across the ice for miles, with the howls of laughter from my 'friends' echoing in the hall.  The second attempt was better, apart from the getting up from the push bit, but I then got the hang of using the grippy foot to lean on - yay, Winter Olympics here I come!
My hopes of a future career were dashed within a few minutes, I sent my stone winging down the ice and promptly toppled over just as the 'big man in curling' came in and gazed down from his lofty heights in the viewing bit. Sigh.
Anyway, it was great fun, although as I never mastered the actual sliding bit, I couldn't do any sweeping frantically in front of the stone, but I have long realised that you can't get everything in life. And there's always next year...

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

A Day in the Village

On Saturday, Bottnaryd, our nearest village, had a 'fun' day to raise money for the equivalent to the UK's Cancer Research. There was a whole day's programme and all the shops got involved, the shop and the pizza place donated a portion of the day's takings, the beauty palour did 10min massage/hair things and the gym had spinning classes and stuff.  The Pentecostal Church did the cafe for the morning and the Swedish Church in the afternoon, there were concerts by local talent, inspirational talks from people who wanted to cycle from here to Paris, who had survived cancer and stuff, a fun run, a jumble sale, the scouts had fun games and popcorn and there was even a bouncy castle.

Graham was already booked to work down the church (they are redoing the grounds at the front), so he had the car, and managed to contribute to the effort by eating pizza for lunch - he does have a hard life!  I decided that, as I'd managed to change the voice in my head to 'look after yourself', I would cycle.  It's only 5km and only 2 hills after all.  It was a bit grey and cloudy for the first time in 4 weeks, but that was OK.  So I decked myself out in my best 'sitting in a cafe, listening to live music, being charitable, whilst occasionally throwing balls at things' look and set out.  The air dampness started halfway up the first hill (yes, I was walking! live with it!), it coalesced into drizzle on the straight over the lake and became serious drizzle at the top of the second.  It was possibly a bit damp...  Fortunately part of the look was my old Post Office duffle, which is guaranteed to keep out all Welsh weather - drizzle? pah, it laughs.

It was great fun, music was good, the Pente coffee brilliant, scout games fun, fun, fun and I chatted with loads of people.  The dampness and need to not look in a mirror got too much and I left for home at 2, so couldn't compare the Swedish Church coffee and hear the country band (shame...???  who were also very good examples of the genre), but it was actually great fun cycling home.  I felt terribly, terribly french, probably the combination of turtle neck jumper, moleskin skirt and wicker basket.  and for a village of about 800 inhabitants (plus us country odds and sods), they raised over 75000SEK!

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Review

It's been exactly 2 years and 4 months since I've worked in an office, and 2 years since we came to Sweden on a 'sabbatical', so I guess it's time for a random review.
Soooo, in the last 2 and a half years, I've been made redundant (along with most of the NHS it seems!), discovered the extent of my burnout, finished my Masters, move country (and don't talk to me about the Social Services here! even the Immigration people are fed up with them), move house twice, driven in a car accident that made the front pages (what they don't tell you in the propaganda is that being fat helps cushion vital internal organs, it was my skull - the bit with no fat, that was broken -ha!), asthma came back badly, jobless, starting a completely new career at the age of almost 50yrs and planted some broccoli.







Right... hummm, well, those were the highlights. I would say it's been a bit of rollercoaster really.  So now, I live in a picture postcard house with my husband


(still together-see above paragraph, it was the broccoli that was the real difficulty...) and cat (hummm, asthma...) and am going to open up a cafe and small art gallery in the mission hall over the pond.





So, living the dream!  It is actually quite tough when dreams start to become reality.  Things come up that weren't figuring in the dreamworld - like money and builders, and then of course, what is there left to dream about? (yay, caribbean island).

Being a social beast, the hardest things have been leaving my friends.  Of course, the people here are lovely, they really are, but there's not a lot of space in people's lives in the country.  Things don't change much, so people fill up their internal spaces and don't know how to squash up, to make room for a new person coming along. Of course, in the countryside, it's not as easy to bump into people, or meet up, so everything is more of an effort, as is making sure there's enough milk, cos the nearest shop is 10km away and doesn't open until 10am.  (she says, conveniently forgetting about the 14hr service station shop only 5km away).

I've planted and eaten my first vegetables, made a miniscule profit (but a profit nevertheless!)  with a summercafe, made new friends, been lonely, happy, sad, had time to unlearn and redo some fundamentally flawed, but persistant, core beliefs, reenforced my understanding of God's love and interest in my life and really have begun life in my 40s (UK proverb - Life begins at 40).  It appears I've had a midlife crisis thanks to a right-wing government - should I be grateful??

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Office life

Now I'm a 'proper' business person.. (yeah, wateva) I thought I'd better get myself a proper office thing.  So having got hold of my grandfather's desk, I decided to do out and sort the office space.  As I've said previously, the walls are not the best colour in the entire world, being a really cold blue and throw a grey light on everything,  but I've painted some old shelves and arranged things 'to be used imminently' on them, also cleared the old desk.  My camera appears to be playing up a bit, so the photos aren't as good as could be, but it gives an idea.  Now just to tart up with a bit of colour!

The view from the window, which is small! It'll look lovely with colourful crocheted bunting.

Desk made especially for my grandfather.  It holds loads! (Note the neat desk, all those who have previously shared an office with me...)

Shelf

Work in progress.  Unfortunately the table also needs to house the printer.  I'll do something about the music when I get some money!

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Sorted!

This week, I'm taking some time to sort out the office, rearrange all the boxes and put up some shelves and things.  So far, so mundane, but!  The new desk is my grandfather's and was hand made in oak, I'll need to paint the shelves that came from my great grandfather on the Storck side as they are stained dark and will dominate the narrow space. I want to keep wools and swatches on there, so I can see them easily. I'd love to redecorate, the walls are completely the wrong shade of blue, but we're not allowed.... we'll see in a couple of years though.

The amount of stuff that my grandmother left was totally phenomenal, but how can you throw away pattern books from the 1850! I must admit that I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all, but there's nothing to do, but just get on and sort it out.

Will post a photo on Friday - that'll give me a deadline..

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

The Veg patch

In the interests of living a life as unlike London-life as possible in our increasingly homogenous culture, this year we have a veg patch.  Well, four, to be precise. They are raised and I had the budget to buy compost for 3 of them, so we'll have to wait until next year before going into full production.  I set them out on the lawn, Graham readjusted them into a more aesthetically pleasing pattern, dug the grass up and built the greencottage on the side of the house, I wheelbarrowed away the turves and put the compost bags in, so full credit to me, naturally...
The green-cottage (not quite big enough for a greenhouse) is full of tomatoes. Perhaps a little too full, but hey, green tomato chutney is lovely. There are not such a thing as growbags here, so the tomatoes are in compost filled buckets, five of them all different colours.
The diamond shaped beds are 2x1.5m-ish.  One has broccoli and some sort of cabbage, one has sugar peas and french beans and the other has spinach and parsnips.  The last has weeds, I suppose I could use the sorrel and say it's my salad bed, but...

Learning experiences so far -
1) planting distances on seed packets are not guidelines, but should be taken seriously (whoops....sorry beans)
2) Learn what the cabbage should do/be used for/what it is exactly before you plant, so you won't have to go around all your friends waving a cabbage leaf and asking what to do with it.
3) Frames for things to climb/hang on, yeeessss, hummmm.  A new skill that I feel I need to learn better...(sorry peas, tomatoes and anything else over 10cm tall.)
4) every garden really does need access to a wasps' nest.  If you have one near, you will have no problems with catepillars making lace of your cabbage leaves and scalping your sedums.  You will not have to stand over plants scraping off and squashing green wiggly things. Wasps are lovely, intelligent and can be taught, hurrah for wasps.

Now, how do I buy a wasps' nest?


Sunday, August 4, 2013

Summer rain

It's very hot.  Yesterday, I had decided that I was going to go swimming come what may after being in the cafe all day, so Graham picked me up, drove me to one of the local lakes. I changed in the car, got out into the rain and into the lake.  Ooooh it was lovely and after about 10 strokes, I decided to swim out to the pontoon, about 50m from shore.  At this point I should mention that thunder and lightning were getting somewhat closer and the rain was getting somewhat heavier.  Not being sure on the chances of electrocution/lightning strike/drowning whilst out of the water/being a prat, I decided reluctantly to get out. Still I'd got a swim in - Hurrah!

Monday, July 22, 2013

The Daily Commute

In my previous life, my commute was on the underground from Zone 4 to Zone 4 on the other side of London.  If I left before 6:50am, I would mostly get a seat, though towards the end, I did have to get there by 6:40, and the trip was straight through, for one hour.  My home station and destination station were above ground, so I could wait in the open air and caught some pretty nice sunrises and sunsets.  The inbetween bits were stressful, crowded, hot and smelly though.  Now I've started the summer cafe, I have a commute again.  This, as you can imagine is somewhat different.  For a start, I have to drive.  I say 'have to' I could actually cycle.  It would take about an hour, but I've done that from Perivale to Charing Cross Hospital (in Hammersmith) before now and that was OK. However, I've borrowed a neighbour's son's car, which is fantastically battered and I love it, even the mould demon smell.

Here are photos of a journey home from work.  So instead of starting in Leytonstone, I start in Habo and instead of ending up in Perivale, I end up in Bet.  (Interestingly, neither of them 'officially' exist as their own entities).  The journey takes about 20min.
Leaving Habo

Passing the processing of the second silage crop

Coming up to Habo church

rounding the corner of the church

to the top of the hill

imaging living with that view!

Heading south to the main road
On the 'other side'!

Southfork! Makes me laugh every time, sorry...

Driving through fields of rye... the barley is a little further on.

Through various farmyards

a favourite shed

and the road goes ever on...


Turning off the tarmac into the home stretch

Alternative transport in case you get hit by a moose.

Into the forest


Almost there!

Heading into Bet

Home sweet home

Sunday, July 7, 2013

After a fortnight feeding the masses - not

Well! it's been a fortnight now and you can guess it's not busy by the fact that I'm sitting and typing this.  It's a lovely sunny weekend after a few weeks of rain and showers, so everyone wants to be out, not sitting around in a cafe drinking coffee.  So being an enterprising entreupeneueueueueur (help, how do you stop spelling it??) I'm going to do snack bags to be ordered when you get a bike from the local bike hire shop.

I have to say that I'm learning lots and lots about what people want and when.  Especially what to bake.  Maybe it's better when it's a regular cafe, but for a summer cafe, people want a massive treat and that means goo, not gingerbread and muffins.  Cake that is mainly cream, whisked things and that doesn't stand a chance of standing up straight.  Moderation is most definitely not in!  All the things I carefully baked and froze, I think we are destined to be eating up to Christmas.  Fortunately, there is someone upstairs who bakes to take photos of it, she is on a cheesecake push AND doesn't want any payment, as she would normally have to throw them away.  Result - lots of goo!

The only thing now is how to get people through the doors.  At the beginning I think I blew it with some by having too weak coffee (different now I've taken in my coffee measuring spoon from home) and, being as neurotic as a very neurotic person, I now think that everyone in Habo won't come because of the awful coffee.  You also can't trust the Swedes to give accurate feedback as they are concerned about upsetting you too much.

Still, it's great experience and I'm probably going to open my own place next year.  If only, cos it's a bit late to opt out now!  Best reason ever!




Sunday, June 30, 2013

How the Elk got his tattoo

Hi chaps, thought I'd see if I could do a short story in the quiet moments between customers.  The comments reply thing seems not to like me, so apologies if I don't appear to reply to your helpful feedback.  I am sitting here stabbing at the keyboard in frustration!
I think I also need an illustrator!

How the elk got his tattoo
A long time ago, three years ago, deep in the forests of central Sweden, lived a family of elks. There was Mama Elk, Papa Elk, Peter Elk and little Stina Elk.
Peter and Stina were very fond of eating the berries that grew on bushes all over the forest floor. They started in June with wild strawberries and when they were finished, the blueberries were ready. They ate the berries and stuck their bright blue tongues out at each other.  Mama Elk sighed and told them to stop doing that before their father go home, so they went out into a clearing and stuck their blueberry tongues out at the crossbills instead.
After the blueberries, the lingon berries were ripe.  They were bright red and so sour the berries made Peters’ and Stinas’ eyes cross!  That made them giggle.
One day at the end of October, Peter and Stina found a mound of strange, oval, hard, brown berries, a fire stone ring and an old grinder box on a beach.  They had never seen brown berries before, so Peter licked them. A tingle ran up his tongue and down his back and out of his tail.  He was so surprised; he sat down right on the old fire place. Some of the coals were still hot! Ooof, up he jumped and his long spindly legs went up in all directions and he landed on the coals again! Stina laughed and laughed so much she fell over too.

When they got home, Mama Elk cleaned Peter’s burns and put dock leaves on them to help. Papa Elk said that the brown beans were called coffee and said that Peter’s burns looked just like the beans.  Peter looked at his burns.  “Oh, what a pretty pattern” exclaimed Stina, “they make you look different”.  Peter felt quite proud and started to parade around the forest showing all his friends, who got quite jealous.  Their mums and dads were not so pleased though!  And that was how the elk got his tattoo.

Monday, June 24, 2013

The Tattooed Elk Totters into the world

Today is the start of a new life for me.  Yes, that's another new life.  I must admit that I'm not sure how many I can take, but am working on the cat theory at the moment.

Today is the day when the Tattooed Elk, my little company, takes its first step into the real world.  I'm going to convert the old mission hall here, in the hamlet, to a cafe and art gallery to open next year, but in the meanwhile, I've had the opportunity to run a summer cafe in the old spinnery in Habo, starting today and finishing 11th August.

Consequently I've been baking and have run out of freezer space!  I'm hoping I'll have time to get something baked fresh every day as it opens at 11am and I get up at 6am.  After 2 years of not working it's a bit daunting to say the least, which is why I'm writing this at 3:45 in the morning instead of getting a good night's sleep.  Still, we'll see how it goes and if  all else fails, I can always go and buy loads of doughnuts and flog them for sixpence.

The tax office here has a somewhat different attitude to the one in the UK, where they are just basically interested in taking your money.  Here you are categorised, percentaged and they want to see things like contracts and know about your experience before they give you permission to start a business.

If you're wondering about my experience, I helped out at a cafe when I was a student.....it was a long time ago. Not sure that getting your bottom pinched as a silver service waitress counts, but hey, it was a hospital cafe!  Strange how life turns out.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Midsummer Madness

Well, it's now Midsummer. Gosh, Karin, you say, I think you'll find there are a couple of days to go yet! Technically, you'd be right. The Public Holiday is on Saturday (for you UK lot; in Sweden, the Bank Holidays are on the day they fall on, not Mondays. If the holiday is on a Sunday and you work in a normal office, tough, you've missed it) and today is Thursday.  However, all the best parties are on Midsummer Eve so everyone, absolutely everyone - even the big supermarkets, take MSE off, or at the very least the afternoon, if you happen to be a profit driven retail giant. In fact, unless you are a capitalist, money driven b%*, you take the afternoon off the day before in order to prepare the herring, cream cakes, strawberries and schnapps that are eaten in totally ginormous amounts, whilst dancing round the midsummer pole singing about green frogs.  We all know what folk songs are really about, but that one, in particular, frankly, has me worried.  The actual Midsummer Day is celebrated by recovering, generally in a swimming costume, by a lake with more strawberries.
Consequently, today, Thursday had me driving around like a mad woman to get everything in before everything shuts in the afternoon.  There can be no more baking, because there is no more freezer space, so I'll just have to crochet, sew, organise lists, my head, the office and the paperwork in prep for the big day on Tuesday.

What? what? What about Tuesday??  More on that tomorrow!!!

Haymeadows at Midsummer


Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Growing things

Spring was so late this year that everything started growing like there was no tomorrow as soon as the soil thawed and the night temperatures got above +2C. In the UK, we are used to say 'OK, that needs doing/pulling up/cutting down/layering etc, I'll do it at the weekend'. Here, honey, if you do that, say on Tues, you won't see whatever it is for the other plants or because it's grown 10m and you have no idea how to use a chainsaw.  So the lesson I've learnt from this year is 'do it NOW'.  Probably not a bad lesson all round actually, and would cut down the number of piles of stuff dotted around, especially in the office - just saying.

I've cut out 4 diamond shaped veg beds in the bottom lawn.  Well, I say 'I'.. bless Graham's little cotton socks...  Each took 4 bags of soil, the compost bin not being far enough advanced yet, so I've only got 3 earthed up (ran out of money!). I've planted peas and beans in one, broccoli and cabbage in the other and spinach and parsnips in the third.  And I fuss over them like a hen over her chicks.  After one leaf of a broccoli seedling was nibbled, there were no longer any snails in the garden and the ground is now not brown, but blue (slug pellets for you non-gardening types).  I'm just waiting for the hares to discover the plants!

Graham built me a greencottage (too small for a green house) and I've got 5 tomato plants in that, there are 4 chilli plants on the window sill and I've cleared around the wild strawberries, so not doing too bad for a first year, so far.   This afternoon, I'll have to go out and get some birch branches for the peas.  There was a frost last night, so excuse me, whilst I take the blankets off the beds....

Friday, May 24, 2013

Mad dandelions

At this time of the year the dandelions come into bloom.  Every field and roadside is a mass of small, burning golden suns, replacing the silver starlight of the wood anenomes. So with all these wild flowers, I thought I'd give making a dandelion hanging crown wreath thing a go.  I haven't make one for years and years and years, so it was all a bit new again.

I went out with my basket and cut dandelion heads, thus having a lovely time and giving the neighbours conversational topic of interest as to what the mad english woman was up to now.  Then I spent a happy couple of hours in the sun with a cup of tea binding an old embroidery frame and threading dandelions.  It's now hanging up in the library and the idea is that it will turn into dandelion clocks.  We will see....


Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Spring is sprung

Though the grass isn't really riz yet.  Having said that, I have started to pull up sprouting crouch grass from the beds and dandelions!  The beds are almost full of crocuses and other spring bulbs, which was such a nice surprise last week, when they started sprouting.
Spring this year is really late, not all the snow is gone yet, and we've only had the last 2 nights without frost, but I'm already thinking of when to have my "taking down the secondary glazing and washing it" party.  Possibly calling it something snappier.
The broccoli has sprouted in the cut down milk cartons on the kitchen window sills and I think I'll have to repot them tomorrow! So I'd better start doing something about the 4 raised bed sidings that are sitting outside on the lawn.  And the tomato plants are coming Sunday. Fortunately Graham has already made a lean-to green house, I just need to buy the growbags. It's all starting to take off at jet speed.
Unlike me. About 5 weeks ago Graham and I had a slight cold, three days after that we felt like we had got the after effects of the flu and they haven't worn off yet. It's jolly inconvenient, so I'm off to the docs tomorrow to see if I can get an appointment and something more specific than "it's a virus".
Still, sitting on the decking today, listening to the birds singing in a huge choir, watching the white clouds fluff overhead and the raptor wheeling over the forest, in a balmy 16C, and that gorgeous all-embracing smell of spring filling my lungs, it's a good life, and you don't need health to enjoy it.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Saker och ting

Everytime I go and see my grandmother, she asks me what I do with my time.  I have to admit I'm a bit hard pressed to answer as it seems to take such a long time to do anything, let alone anything constructive. Someone asked me to show them a picture of a lampshade I'd made (on the phone of course!). I'd forgotten my phone anyway, but I also didn't have pics. So I've decided to take some of the things I've done.  Not everything is here, as natch, I didn't think of it at the time, mainly, but also cos I've got some on my phone and I don't seem to be able to get the phone and PC to talk. Anyway!

Easter card lino prints








Lace lampshade
 


Felt flower wreath

Friday, March 8, 2013

More things your driving instructor never told you.

It's coming up to spring and the snow and ice are starting to melt.  Hurrah, I hear you shout, no more slippy slidiness.  Hummmm...................

1) the country roads have, by the end of January, assumed a corrugateness that you could use in a skiffle group.  It's very good for the massage and saves a fortune on the Vibroboard gym classes.  Not so fab if you have a bad back, when the alternative would be snowshoeing through the snowy forest, with all the shopping on your back.  Know which one I'd choose...

2) Snow and ice on the roads starts to melt. Just not in the shady bits and only a bit on the semi-shady bits.  So you scream down the tarmac at 90km/hr, rally turning round the corner through the slush defined deeeeeppppp ruts, skating over the sheer ice, before revving up again when you hit a new bit of tarmac. I do this to pounding guitars and screaming drums, the Swedes don't seem to need a sound track.
Alternatively, you drive at 60, then 40, then 20, keeping well to the side and practicing your gentle braking techniques using gears.  The untarmaced roads will turn to mud in a couple of weeks with potholes the size of  a small town, so you need the practice.

3) The sun comes out.  Eerhhh yes??? Well, let me tell you!  When that sun peeps above the top of the trees and the angle of the rays is just right to bounce off the road into the windscreen, all sorts of things happen.  Firstly, the surface water from the melting ice gleams, then the light magnifies, then you go blind, your sight lost in screaming pain as the fireball fills every part of your face.  You can't see a %**!& thing, even squinting and with sunglasses on.  That shape coming out of the tunnel of light is probably not a friendly Blues Brother or an angel, but a 35tonne truck heading straight towards you.  At this point, it's best to pull into the side, any side, you'll know when you hit the tree, and wait for a minute until the angle of the sun's rays changes.  Any bouncy light effects from then on are your own problem.

4) Elks don't run away.  If you come across an elk or two standing in the middle of the road, they won't turn and run. They will turn and look at you, finish their chat, look at you again, put their cups away, get their coats and then wander off into the woods, after looking at you verrrryyy carefully.  As they stand at over 6 foot at the shoulder, you are so not going to argue.  Do your best to look harmless.

Nice pic of the whatsit...
Spring Time in Sweden - A Rustic, Vintage and Home-Made Inspired Wedding...

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Moving Hazard

Uggh, I was warned this would happen by people who are experienced!  I have been engulfed by a huge wave of homesickness. Yes, homesickness for London (??how??why??? what?? etc). Well, not quite London, more for the life I used to know.  The one with certainties and known comforts and pains and with people I could ring up without worrying about the phone bill or whether I was intruding on their lives, the one where I had money and could cycle to Waitrose through the park in the sun.

Of course, these images are somewhat rose-tinted. Certainty re job vanished when the Tories got elected. There also wasn't really that much time to cycle gently through the park and it certainly wasn't always sunny.  I know all this and still I am very lonely, feeling slightly unwell, and am so unsure of myself and my abilities. I have no job to get my selfworth from and, to be honest, am flailing around a little.  It's like leaving University in Thatcher's Britain and I've already done that once!

And that's it.  It's the beginning of a new life, finding a new place in people's lives and my own.  It is entirely possible I'll actually have to get round to reading a Purpose Driven Life and definitely to remember "seek first the Kingdom of God and all these things, WILL be given to you".  Goodness, training the inner man is so tiring and hard work, I have no idea how people manage to train the outer one as well.  All those who manage it are truly awesome and are obviously much better people that I!

Good on you!   and apparently the wave recedes, so normal service will be resumed shortly....

NICE PICTURE OF THE WHATSIT>>>
home in new york - from outside

Monday, February 25, 2013

Blonde and Beautiful

The classic view of the swede, lithe yet muscular and generally full of health. How is this so?  What exactly is the difference between us and them?

View 1: sitting in the car in a supermarket car park watching 2 groups of workmen coming out of the shop with their SnackAttack bags swinging. They were not on the Yorkie Bars, but were going to stuff their faces with satsumas, apples and bananas.

View 2: following the group of unemployed heading for the Information on Starting Your Own Business seminar, on the 4th floor, the 4TH floor, seeing them all head up the stairs. They didn't even look at the lift. How am I doing to give my lift 30second speel if no one takes the lift?

View 3: coming out of the airport refuelling for the trip back home with a Japp hazelnut bar, hearing the sound of crunching and looking around to see a horde of local youth munching on apples.

This is why the Swedes, on the whole, are all lithe and lovely.  It's possible that I haven't yet been fully culturally assimilated....

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Feeling the Burn

As I sit here, in my comfy chair with my feet up on the cat, a glass of wine in one hand, an After Eight in the other and a steaming cup of tea at my side, I muse on the difference that an hour makes and the things one does when a husband thinks it would be nice to do something together.

Like aerobics.

Of course, those of you who knew me in my younger days would know that it was not an uncommon sight to see me throwing limbs around and generally being terribly energetic to a pounding dance rhythm, however, of late, it's not quite as common. Having several of our friends witter on about the gympa classes in the local village, Graham decided that he really did need some training and we should go, together.

Bless.

I'm glad it was half term, but that did mean there weren't so many people to hide behind especially with everyone stood around in a circle with the instructress in the middle, but on the otherhand, there were no mirrors. The exercises were varied and probably had some sort of modern name.  Of course, having experience made it easy for me to pick up the moves, it was just a question of coordination and timing (sadly lacking), but poor Graham had never been to an exercise class and so generally stood there flailing at random intervals with intermittent hopping.  I did tell him at one point that it was possible to bend.  He did have me on the running around the gym though. To quote Garfield, "show me a runner and I'll show you a strange person with a thing for pain". I did flex my knees to show willing.  And now I know why Swedish men and women are so fit, not only do they walk for hours in unpathed forest, they also take their aerobics terribly, terribly seriously.  One lady told me not to worry, it was OK to take things easy at the beginning.  The poor, poor dear........

Anyway, we're going again next week.  Mostly out of sheer bloody mindedness.  Soon we'll be doing press up bunny hops on one hand!

Monday, February 4, 2013

A New Beginning? Again?

The Tattooed Elk.

???? you say. This is the name of the website that my sister bought for me for my birthday. Graham thought it up as a good name for a pub.  This morphed into a cafe and is now the name of the mother company for an art gallery.

Here in little Bet, I have a dream.  A cultural, art nurturing warm place, where people can feel they are safe to develop their art/craft dreams.  Big or small, it doesn't matter as long as you can feel stimulated, inspired and uplifted.  This may be by buying a piece from an exhibition, or by taking part in a workshop, or by hiring a work or exhibition space.

There are some very good cultural places near, some large town and a major road just 10 minutes drive away.  The road through is reasonably popular during the summer, especially with tourers, so there is either actually or potential footfall.  I was going to convert the woodshed, but our lovely landlord has offered the old mission house, by the pond.

Yes, there is the possibility of a small cafe too.

Much work and discussion with neighbours needs to be done and I am now going to make a start. Hurrah, the name, in Swedish or English, has not been registered by anyone yet.  And, errhh, not unsurprisingly, there is also nothing like it!

Excuse me whilst I start on finding my old notes about business plans, the empire awaits!

Saturday, February 2, 2013

It's been so lovely with the snow and the cold, but last week the weather changed.  As I sat/lay/moped sniffling, the temperatures went above zero (centigrade) and after a week most of the snow melted.  The temperature has started to fall again, so we've been getting some lovely rimefrost.  Yesterday, driving to the supermarket was like driving through ghost forests.  The deciduous trees had every twig outlined in ice crystals. With the dark backdrop of the firs and pines, the fading light and the frost silvered ground, it was beautiful and eerie.  Shame the car hasn't got an on board camera!

It went from this:
and 
to










Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Urgghhh

I had thought to write a pithy, yet witty, thing about my birthday, which was last week.  (thank you). However, Procrastination being the thief of time means that I'm sitting shivering on the sofa with a hanky stuffed up each nostril being glared at by the cat and writing this instead. During this time of illness and suffering, Psychkitty has appointed herself my lookerafterer. She makes sure I go to bed, with frequent fluid intake (cups of tea, with teaspoons of milk for the nursemaid of course) and if I do have to sit up, I'm kept warm with my own furry hot-water bottle. She is now annoyed that I'm typing this instead of being in bed.
What happened to the old fashioned 3 day colds? Now everything seems to be an evil influenza type virus necessitating a complete shutdown for a couple of days. I had stopped taking the vitamin tabs, so I suppose the Tories would say it was self inflicted and should stop my luxury hot orange juice.  Hopefully I'll be back on form tomorrow, though more like Friday, when life can resume and I can start of the business plan for the art gallery....

Monday, January 21, 2013

Week in summary

This last week has not been the most eventful, action-packed week of my life. It has been heavy, grey and boring, much like the sky.  Though, of course, in the immortal words of someone or another, it's all in the attitude.
There have been a few highlights, however.

The "Just a tad Worrying" happening - that goes to Psychokitty, who trotted downstair, lined up and looked at her grey fluffy mouse, her black fluffy ex-mouse and the clear plastic innards of ex-mouse, picked up the grey mouse, trotted back upstairs, came down, ate and went upstairs and started to play with the toy.  This was a worryingly large amount of thought for a small cat.  Maybe they could take over the world?

The Most Exciting happening - I collected the last stamp and got a free cup of coffee on my way to the voluntary job at the Second Hand Shop.  Yippee, a free small latte....

Most in need of faith happening - Graham doesn't have much work on at the moment.  Hopefully there is a January/February slump, just as there is in the UK. Still, it gives opportunity to demonstrate a large amount of faith and it did drive me to apply for 3 whole jobs.  Yes, three.

Most suspenseful happening - Three jobs? you say, "gosh, Karin, what were they?" errhh, some sort of admin things, I think.  I'm afraid that I think that I'm caught in the too qualified, but hasn't got the language skill for long reports trap. That, and I haven't worked out the Arbetesformedling's website yet....... Oh well, I'll just have to google "starting an art gallery in your woodshed".  I bet someone's already done it!
Anyway, now I'm waiting for no response.

Apart from that, we've had 15cm snow, it's snowing now. The sun has come out 3 times. I've made a Mississippi Mud Pie. And that's the Week that Was.