Thursday 29 July 2010

What will I hear through the grapevine...?


The land is dry. The grass no longer remembers its former green glory. Instead it is heard sneezing, as its dry, hay-like complexion tickles its own yellowing nose. Most flowers have already come and gone, and the garden is looking tired, oh so tired...

Time to introduce a little colour!














Under the grapevine is a scruffy old wooden bench, under-used by humans but all the more frequented by pigeons. Pigeons here are the size of badgers, and what they leave behind is disgusting enough to frighten most people to find seating elsewhere... But today I braved it, dug out an old red table cloth, some bunting and a couple of fabric "bag-baskets" (all of which I made a few years ago, with Christmas in mind...!) and voilà, our garden is once more a room of colour.

And here I sit now, devoting myself to some healthy day-dreaming, and  listening to what I might hear through the grapevine...

Saturday 24 July 2010



Unacceptable peas...



Rejected. Shunned. Sniffed at like second class citizens in the pea society...

                


                



Or at least by the man in the house. " Harvested too late", he says, "already gone square, flat and squashed, they are no good at all". I look at the little green pea men in their little green pods. They look fine to me and I feel for them for being looked at with such vehemence. Not only is the man in the house a keen gardener, he is also a gourmet chef. As a hobby, that is. But with the same critical eye as any professional restaurateur...

Keen to show some compassion and understanding for my slightly overweight and - in some snobbish eyes - misshapen green friends, I quickly invite them to a heartening metamorphosis. The 'acceptable' peas briefly pose in an old wooden salt tray-boat-thing - a treasured souvenir from northern Guatemala many years ago - before being cooked and consumed. The 'unacceptable' rejects, well, they will strut their veggie pride for days to come, sending the message of love to the world. In my opinion, a very acceptable life mission indeed. So, who's laughing now, eh?




Thursday 22 July 2010


  Fresh pickings...

                  


                    


                  


                  


                  


   

Our garden is a generous provider of gorgeous greens at the moment. The gardening man in the house stands tall and proud, harvesting peas and praise.  While he reaps his well-deserved glory, I sneak out to snip some more lavender from our next-door neighbour (who, might I add, has given her blessing to my modest theft).  Most of them already half-way expired, but in my eagerness to let this blue loveliness fill my house with its enchanting summer scent, I attempt a small wreath, hoping the entwined stalks will hold the summer spirit tight in their embrace, preserving it just a little bit longer... 

                          

The inspiration for a lavender wreath came from the beautiful blog Lisas Torp, where Lisa always offers soulful and artistic inspiration, in pictures and in words.

I hope the summer spirit lingers in your world, wherever you are, 
and wish you a lovely and pleasantly scented weekend!

Saturday 17 July 2010

Tralala, it's raining again...


... and, very unusually for this sun-loving Swede, I am not complaining! Not only was nature all around gasping for some substantial watering, but I found myself enjoying having an excuse to curl up indoors and potter about with 'indoorsy' tasks. 




Not only until I saw the photos of my little arrangement here, did it strike me how autumnal it looked. Hm, no, that I had not intended. I am not ready for coats and pumpkin-carving just yet!


This little tray table is a recent tray find resting on the metal holder that used to hold a large upside-down-cone-shaped terracotta urn, which, we discovered, did not look favourably on being wrestled by a young boy... However, I quickly abandoned the mourning of the broken pot when I saw the recycling potential of this tri-legged friend...

Above, the view towards the 'end'-part of our L-shaped kitchen. (More images from the kitchen in earlier blog entries can be found under the heading 'Kitchen-diner'.)

I have shown you images of this room before, big and small, from one angle or the other, and it is likely it will happen again. This is my haven, my sanctuary, my little piece of paradise. It is not a room I take for granted, but a space I am grateful for every day. Every speck of dust, every moment of mad chaos during the building work last year (when we extended and rebuilt the kitchen and dining area) seems worth it when I drink the light that floods this space, and the calm that reigns here even when everything and everyone else seems to go bananas. 

To have a vision, an envisioned design and desired 'feel' for the planned room, and to have a builder (Barry A'Court and his team) who actually listens to you and tries his best to create your vision, is nothing short of brilliant. The fact that most of the material was sourced locally (the doors made in our little town, only a few streets away) or recycled (I found the floor - old floorboards from a Victorian hospital - at a reclamation yard nearby), made it feel - if not 100% eco-friendly- then at least an effort towards a sustainable build.

I hope your life is flooded with light when you want it, 
visited by rain when you need it, 
and that you are indeed living the life you were hoping to build...

Ps. Thank you SO much for all your kind birthday greetings after my last entry! The last few days have been incredibly busy, but I will try to catch up on my blog reading soon... 

Wednesday 14 July 2010

Wilting? Not me...



Today, I put another year behind me and appropriately, some may think, 
decorate my birthday tea tray with wilting lavender, a little past their best...

  


Those who have followed my blog for some time may think I write an awful lot about the beauty of 'vintage', in people as well as objects. Some would perhaps roll their eyes and tut something about there being a touch of mid-life crisis in the Swenglish Home. Some would perhaps be right...

However, time to stop this age-obsessed nonsense. No more drooping. No more wilting. Time to stand up straight, sip my Rooibos tea and get on with the rest of my life.

Today I enjoy the long overdue rain here. The garden lets out little moans of delight as I stroll up and down to inspect the goodness of the wetness, as if it has been too thirsty for too long. The brown lawn, however, did, at first, look a bit indifferent to this welcome humidity, almost a little sulking, as if the cherished guest had come too late. But then it could sulk no longer and found itself raising every pore to the sky, drinking the manna.

Wishing you all a moderately warm, perhaps slightly rainy, certainly lavender-scented and absolutely age-indifferent week!


Monday 12 July 2010

Calming hues of blue...


This country is bathing in lavender at the moment. They come in many shapes and many shades of purple-y, blue-y lilac, but all with the same scent of summer, a sensual feast for the nose, with whispers of Mediterranean fields of tranquility...


Except we are not in the south of France...


... and not many tranquil fields in sight...




... only a few pots on the steps up to the first section of the rather tired garden. The lawn still has not forgiven us for dumping all the building material there last year, during several months of building work..., the "motorway" running through the middle of the garden, which we vowed to get rid of when we moved in, but then noticed our boys learned how to ride their bikes on..., the small garden light still awaiting a proper positioning after the building work ended...etc. But one day, one day this will be a garden fit for a horticultural queen.

I have a dream...
                                                                         *********

I know I have said before that I would slow down a little, not post new entries every day... only to fail that mission completely and find myself here as regularly as ever. Second attempt starts now, a wind-down towards the summer holiday, a window-opener for the many unfinished craft projects that have had to ride in the back seat for a while, while the blog has been manning the steering wheel. So here we go, Fewer and Farther Between, scene 2, take 2. See you all soon. Just not immediately...