Collecting sprees..

These days I feel a bit like Little Red Riding Hood walking about in the garden with a basked to fill with goodies..

Reflections in a window:
The first tomatoes are brought indoors to redden a bit faster on a tray. I had some on my breakfast sandwich this morning. Needless to say - the homegrown stuff taste very special! Yesterday I harvested and boiled the first beet roots. And had them with crumbled goat cheese and fresh thyme. Mmm mm...(Photo and recipe from Mimmi´s mat)

However, the days are now focused on plums. Last years crop was scarce but this year! The branches are almost cracking under the burden! I have two kinds - the green ons and some lovely ones with pink cheeks..

This is a plum water color I just love made by Sara Midda.

The Complete book of Self-Sufficiency by John Seymour (ill. above) follows me where ever I go in this world.
The Swedish version and the English below.
It was given to me when I lived in Zimbabwe by a dear friend. And have I been using it as a garden bible ever since! Seymour has a number of tips on plums among a million of other useful information for the keen gardener: on how to prune, to make marmelade, plum jam, about pollination, and so on..
John nowadays feels like an old friend of the family!
The guru of self sufficiency.
I recently found out that he died at the age of 90 in 2004 and this is the obituary of his interesting life in the Guardian:
" ...at the age of 20, he moved to South Africa, where he managed a sheep farm, worked in a copper mine and joined the government veterinary service.He spent much time with Bushmen, whose assured hunter-gatherer lifestyle in a semi-desert environment profoundly influenced his thinking; he said that they took from nature only as much as they needed for survival. He came to realise that much of human knowledge and culture is an ancient inheritance, and not primarily the product of urban progress."
Full text here.

unThese plumes above looks like soft maiden´s blushy cheeks!

A great illustration from Seymour´s book on what to do in the garden this time of year.
Well. Hmm--
I haven´ t made even fragments of what he suggests for the garden in September. But I know he will smile in his heaven at this. The books are undemandingly written with so much humor that it will be oozing down to generations poking in their soils long after he is gone..

Since words fail me after the Swedish election results last night , the genius of the Swedish artists of the old "Yellow Dog" show will do just fine..

Harvest time..

..From my garden, in Gotland.

Sandhamn. Weekend remix.

Autumn is almost there..

A strange kind of peace starts settling upon you like some weather proof outfit.. Outdoor activities are traded by indoor occupations at the tune of the rain drumming on the windows accompanied by an unmercyful wind from the restless, greying sea.

So.

Today I brought out the paint brushes. Long time no seen, friends!

And practised on a bit my roses.
I wonder how many of those I have painted over the years in my interior decoration store? On furniture, linens, fabrics and on canvases.. A rose is a rose is a rose..
It worked quite OK so I made this one (see below) from memories of the rooftops of Paris instead.
I always dream of Paris, particularly in the fall-then who doesn´t? To take afternoon tea in Jardin de Luxembourg..
..enjoying the fragrance of the abundance of asters this time of year in this huge garden "très ravissant"..
In this small studio (below) I stayed when the deadly cyclonic windstorm hit Paris 10 years ago. I spent all night fully dressed clasping my passport and handbag by the entrance door rigging all the stuff I could find against the only studio window.
Well that was a night to remember. In the morning when the storm had faded somewhat, I hit the deserted streets of Paris - and was chocked. It looked like Paris had been under a siege.The Seine had overflowed. Huge parts of buildings and balconies had landed on the streets. Broken glass were cracking and scrunching under my feet.
Below is the Paris rooftop painting I made this morning out of memory of the little studio window just before the storm:

A doorway in Paris.
Click for a great Paris blog: Peter´s Paris from which this picture is taken. Makes you long even more..

Hip hip hurray!

Thalia is turning 2 years old today!

September the 2nd, Thalia turns 2 years! It feels just like yesterday you were born and a tiny little baby. (Yes, I was there when you were just a few days old..) Happy birthday my dear grandchild far away over there in the US! I so wish I could be with you on your birthday! Love and kisses from Grandma in Sandhamn!

Photos from today..

..painted in virtual painter!
It is so great!
(Photo above: Paivi M. virtually painted bu me)

And fun to do! And the results are just great!

You can do it in bed with the computer on the blanket. No
wet paint och brushes..

Suites a lazybone like me..

You get a creative urge, take a few pics and start the computer.

These photos are taken in Sandhamn - the island in the Stockholm archipelago.
Please observe there is not a single sailing boat in sight!
(Sandhamn is the sailing centre of Sweden and there is hardly a photo from here without a sailing boat or yacht!)

Les Volets Jaunes..

Goddamit! Today I found a photo of my old summer boarding school in Switzerland on the net:

Les Volets Jaunes (The Yellow shutters) in Chateau d´Oex - near Montreux. Oh memories!

Situated in a beautiful valley near Lake Geneva the Les Volets Jaunes boarding school taught English and French - and manners - to teenagers from all over Europe. School regime was very strict with the boy´s dorm on the upper floor and the girl´s on the lower. "Instructive games" were played at night - well chaperoned by the teachers. BUT we had fun! And we surely learned about languages, each other and... some realities of life:
The French teacher who used to chase the girls down the alp slopes with an Edelweiss stuck behind his ear, happily joodeling!
Towards the end of the term, I could not stand the strict regime anymore - being Swedish and all that - and escaped from the school and hitched down to the Riviera. In a red wide brimmed hat. Being 16 years old. Hm. Adventure started to beacon..

The first thing I did upon hitting St Tropez was to order a Cuba Libre in a bar (early in the morning) and slot a coin into the Juke box to listen to "North to Alaska" sipping my freedom..

Later on this trip, I by accident run into my favourite cousin Bitte in Basel, and we made Europe together until we finally reached Stockholm Central station (we got friendly with a train conductor and managed to hitch another free ride in a sleeping compartment all the way to Copenhagen) our fathers were there (they were brothers) to pick us up! Smiling- but shaking their heads! " Our wild daughters" they seemed to say while they hugged us.. I guess they were happy we were all in one piece.
Anyway, I just found out that Les Volets Jaunes has been transformed to a hotel these days. The bording school days of strict regimes are now gone.
However:
How I would love to go there and check into my old room once more!And to practise a bit of the long forgotten joodeling skills of youth..