Memories Of Warm Summer Days

Fireweed in the summer night light

dry moss

Baltic sea beach

strawberries from the garden

gray sky over the river

Mountain lake and sunset

Mountains and orange sky

Butterfly

rapsberries from the garden

drought in the forest

summer sky

baltic sea rock beach

beetroots from the garden

Fireweeds and gray sky

noctilucent clouds

Never had I seen the forest so dry or heard the moss creaking under my feet.

The dust from the dirt road to the seaside was flying around the car, falling on the wild blueberry bushes and staying there, a coat of gray on the forest floor that no rain came to wipe off.

Nestled between the forest and the Baltic sea were little summer cabins, little summer paradises, brought back to life for the warm weeks of July. The sun was hot, the wind was warm and it felt easy to get into the water. I’d thought it wouldn’t be warm enough for anything but a quick dip, but it was delightful to bathe and swim for a while. It felt just like when I was a kid and my family spent the end of our summers by the Mediterranean sea.

The grass in the garden had stopped growing long before Midsummer. The raspberries started ripening so early that we pondered cancelling our trip to the mountains and stay at home on jelly duty.
As we picnicked by the river after an unexpected pause to set up the spare tire, we watched the sky darken and wondered: will there be a thunderstorm? Will we get rain to cool the air a little? Or will the thunder start another forest fire?

We set the table in the garden every day. When the sun had turned and we could be in the shade, we picked the raspberries. Late at night, when it was a little cooler, Mom and Dad and I cooked many jars of jelly.

There was a watering ban, so we collected water went we showered and carried watering cans to try and save my vegetable patch. We couldn’t do miracles. But there were few pretty beetroots and some delicious strawberries.

Come August, there was a warning for cyanobacterial bloom at one of the nearby beaches.

The night sky got slowly darker. I was the days when you gaze up and spot a star and think: funny how I’d forgotten about that! I got a text from my brother one night. “If you look North, you will see noctilucent clouds”.

 

 

Advertisements

2018

water droplets

The new year began with snow days, a stack of library books and long breakfasts by candlelight.
I love the slow, peaceful pace of things this time of year.

It’s no accident, I suppose, that the cozy winter mood I find myself in when I think about my resolutions for the new year – read books ! write more ! Post one painting a week ! Create a weekly routine and stick to it ! – unavoidably results in a spectacular implosion (and a severely neglected blog) once April comes and the year’s seed catalogue (or French politics) starts focusing all my attention.

Yet as I heard people here and there talking about choosing their guiding words for 2018, « routines » was the word that kept coming to my mind. Yes, routines, for everyday life and for creativity, is what I intend to work on this year.

I feel optimistic, because I know I am not starting from scratch. For one thing, I finally feel confident now that the creative path is the one I want to pursue. For another, living in a place I call my own, with a decent set of tools at hand, and for a few years in a row, has been liberating. It has helped me realize that creating routines doesn’t necessarily requires setting a rigid timetable and relying on a level of willpower I don’t have to make myself stick to it.

It works much better for me to pay attention to the way I organize my space to make sure that everyday life doesn’t get in the way of my creative work.

We’ll see how it goes !
Happy new year, you all ! I’ve missed you !

Monday Randoms

I’m taking a walk every day despite the gloomy weather. I wonder how the clothespin got there?

branches_in_snow
There is so little snow.

lichen
Bearded.

wood
Humans were here.

pallets
And there.

Some Things

snowy landscape || by marion

Something that’s certain: winter is here! With snowy trees and pale pink clouds.

pincushion || by marion

Something that’ll make my life easier. Made from whatever I had on hand: a linen square that used to cover a jar of jam, tiny fabric and yarn scraps for the stuffing, and just enough embroidery thread to learn how to make a new stitch. A snowy afternoon well spent.

starsnowflakes_lowred

Something in the mail. A package with a small batch of my holiday cards arrived from the printer’s this week. I was thrilled to finally see them! They are now available in my little shop.

And from around the web:

Something about patience. Found via Jen Snyder‘s newsletter, the creative digest. I also like listening to her podcast, Creating You Own Path.

Something about urban green spaces: I recently discovered this beautiful blog, Beyond the Window Box.

Have a nice weekend!


other things


follow

bloglovin’ || pinterest || twitter

 

 

October Mood

rosehip

autumn forest

autumn leave

Tree with yellow autumn leaves

Blue skies, bright autumn leaves, all gone.

Shorter and shorter days. Gray skies, first frosts. The harsh smell of manure. No wind. Cardamom, Cinnamon. Chilly, lazy mornings. Bubbling apple sauce, newly baked bread. Knitting needles, colored pencils. Bowls of oatmeal, cups of tea.

Suddenly everything revolves around the wood stove.

Save

One Year Of Jam

Home-made jam || by marion

Wild blueberries || by marion

Raspberry and blueberry jam || by marion

Raspberry bushes || by marion

Wild blueberry and raspberry jam || by marion

Wild blueberries in the forest || by marion

Blueberry, raspberry & plum crisp || by marion

Blueberry picking forest view || by marion

Little jars, big milestone!
Last August, I made jam. August is there again: here in the north of Sweden, raspberries and wild blueberries are ripe and delicious. There’s still a jar of jam left from last year, and now I’m making more. Full circle!

On this journey to growing & foraging more of my own food,  the most important lesson I’m constantly learning is to lower my expectations and set reasonable goals.

Making one year’s worth of jam was my goal for last year. It was reasonable: raspberry bushes grow on their own in our garden, requiring zero maintenance except one yearly trimming. As for blueberries, well, the forest all around is full of them.

We’re celebrating the new berry season with Natalie’s fruit oatmeal crisp. Let me tell you, it’s delicious. After investing in a berry-picker comb, we set a new reasonable goal for this year: make another year’s worth of jam, plus freeze some fresh berries to enjoy next winter.

This is nothing like self-sufficiency, but there’s something so deeply satisfying about seeing those jars pile up. Not too little, not too much, just what we need plus some to give as gifts. Growing our own food, one little step at a time.

My super simple wild blueberry/raspberry jam

  • Servings: about 3 jars
  • Print

This is how I make my summer berries jam. I don’t even use any special jam sugar or additional pectin, but usually it sets just fine. I reuse peanut butter jars (such as pictured above) I save all year long. While I cook the jam, I sterilize the jars by putting them in the oven at 100°C for about 20 minutes.

Ingredients

  • 800 g crystal sugar (I use organic white sugar)
  • 1 kg fresh berries
  • 1 squeeze of lemon juice

Directions

Mix all ingredients in a large pot. While stirring, bring to a boil, boil until a foam forms, rises on the sides of the pot and falls again. Reduce the heat and boil for a 5-10 more minutes while stirring. Pour still hot into sterilized jars. Close the jars and put them upside down to cool. The jam will seem liquid but will set as it cools.

 


more glimpses of life


follow

bloglovin’ || pinterest || twitter

May Snapshots

birch leaves With may came green leaves,

field green fields,

seedlings and tiny green seedlings.

splitting firewood There was firewood to cut and split.

rainbow One day there was a rainbow.

blooming tree The tree started blooming.

evening walk I went on many evening walks.

sunset The days got longer and longer,

early morning mist and now there are bright nights and this early morning mist is back.


more glimpses of life


follow

bloglovin’ || pinterest || twitter

 

A Bike Ride

bike shadow

bumpy road sign

forest sweden

moss

forest long exposure

västerbotten spring landscape

forest

moss

river

wild geese

The snow and ice are gone, and I went for a ride. Raced through the forest, stopped to listen to the silence. Heard birds. Smelled newly cut trees. Heard water running. Smelled moss and wet earth. Saw wild geese in the fields. Felt sun and wind on my skin. It felt good.


more glimpses of life


follow

bloglovin’ || pinterest || twitter

 

Promises Made | Books

Les chaussures italiennes, par Henning Mankell

This past Christmas, instead of giving things, I made promises. I still haven’t finished my list of new year’s resolutions, but I already have this one entry: keep them — and I’m looking forward to a little bit of reading, sewing, knitting, walking and picture taking every month for the year to come.

My dad and I are going to read a book of his choosing every month and share our impressions. As a warm-up, he lent me his copy of Italian Shoes by Henning Mankell. I read the first half on a train journey across France during the holidays, and after a short interruption to devour a delightful essay in praise of home lovers, I finished it yesterday.

I liked the first half best, because it made me curious to see where the story would go, while I thought the second half was a bit more predictable. My favorite thing was the setting – did I mention already that am a sucker for the forests of North Sweden and islands in the Baltic sea? – and I also quite liked the main character.

What about you? Do you have any books to recommend?
Where do you get ideas of books to read? I spotted many novels I’d like to read in Ida’s reading lists recently.
Also, I really liked this post today.


more glimpses of life


follow

bloglovin’ || pinterest || twitter

Winter Is Upon Us

Window frost feathers

The temperature dropped down to -23°C/-9°F last night and when we woke up, before sunrise, the inside thermometer read barely 10°C/50°F. But the wood stove was soon roaring, hot cups of tea were poured and porridge was bubbling.

By the look of things, there’s no point trying to open the front door: frozen!

I spent the morning finishing my book and trying out some knitting tricks. I went back to my watercolor lettering experiments in the afternoon. Cleaning and straightening up a couple of calligraphy nibs was definitely useful to avoid ruining the paper, but did not solve the annoying ink (well, paint) flow problem I had. The paint kept forming a drop at the back of the nib instead of flowing onto the paper, which back in the lab, I would have called a surface tension issue – typical! Dipping the tip of the nib in soapy water did the job. If anyone knows about unwanted long-term effects of adding soap to watercolors, I’ll be really happy to know.

Now I need to practice shaping letters and layout. That’s tonight’s program, and I’m off to my desk! The house is getting (a bit) warmer, freshly baked loaves of bread just came out of the oven where they were replaced by a pot of baked-beans-to-be. Really, I wouldn’t trade this life for any other one.

a cat on the desk


more glimpses of life


follow

bloglovin’ || pinterest || twitter