The bulk of our holiday was spent in the little village of Österbillsjö in Sweden's northern region of Norrland. We drove a painful 21 hours to get there, too much of it through a blinding blizzard, and I can say with some certainty that we'll travel by different means next time. But the distance we covered was easily forgotten in good company, and even the harsh weather delivered a picturesque landscape just in time for Christmas.
Even southern Finland enjoyed snow this December, but 2009 was by far the whitest Christmas I've ever experienced. All those times I sang along with Bing Crosby as a child, really dreaming of a white Christmas, I never could have imagined one so satisfyingly snowy. Even the houses themselves, with their cheery colors and white-capped roofs, looked as if they'd fallen out of a Christmas card.
Spending the holidays in the village also meant taking part in some local traditions. On the 23rd, the residents of Österbillsjö and the neighboring village, Butsjöböle, walk in a torchlit procession to a chapel situated between them. There's a Christmas show with carols and stories, and afterward everyone sticks around for a good chat, a glug of glögg (mulled wine), and some spicy gingerbread cookies.
The villages come together
Torches were united in one, large fire
So Christmas was special and very Christmasy this year! As an American with only a loose attachment to even the established holiday traditions in my own country, it all felt extremely storybook, and quite foreign, but in a very good way. Perhaps the best part is that we can do it all again one day. But for 2010 I'm wishing hard for a Christmas spent with my family back home, eating the non-traditional specialties of my mother's kitchen, decorating the tree at entirely the wrong time, and opening the gifts on Christmas morning, not on the eve. You know what they say about home--no place quite like it.
Hello there! That was a good, long break. Janne and I passed a very nice Christmas in Sweden, but came home feeling like we needed a holiday from our holiday. Funny how that is. There's nothing quite like a relaxing time spent at home.
Pähkinä was not spared the freezing temperatures that have hit much of Europe, and the indoor temperature was a startling -5 C when we returned. I've been gradually killing off houseplants since moving to this place (Something to do with caring for all the outdoor plants, I think. Suddenly making things live in tiny pots indoors makes so much less sense.), but the cold killed off all the hangers-on spare my favorite. "The Penny Plant," a gift all the way from Sheffield, England that has endured three London apartments, an international move, and transition to the countryside, looked completely unfazed. Maybe plants really do feel love, and the neglected ones just couldn't carry on.
Bad things also happened to one of our faucets, but it seems minor and will hopefully be fixed soon (We do, happily, still have running water, albeit undrinkable. But at least there are showers to be had.). Other than that, and some solidified olive oil, Pähkinä was just as we left it plus some additional snowy decor. And, aaah, it's so nice to be back.
One of the treats of winter is getting to see where wild animals have been, and sometimes what they've done, even when the creatures themselves remain hidden. The local hare population has done a good job keeping paths open, and it turns out they have some special ones of their own as well.
Bunny tracks
We leave behind tracks too.
Human-canine tracks
But it can be slower-going for the short-legged.
And here's a photo to close, just because I think it's pretty. I hope everyone had a good holiday. What did you do? I'll be back with more detailed reports soon. Happy 2010!
Last night Janne and I were lulled to sleep by the otherworldly tune that ice sings as it freezes. It's a sound that's unique to the coldest of nights--a deep, resonant whale song that seems more appropriate for outer space or the deep sea than a tranquil lake in Finland. Lake song in my ear, my eye spied the outline of white, frosty branches through otherwise black windows and reminded me of what a special place this is, and how lucky we've been to live here. The enchanting, winter scenery that greeted us in the morning reinforced this feeling and I went about my morning routine with an extra spring in my step.
View to the left...
and to the right
Then, I reached for the faucet and discovered that, once again, our water system has failed and life without running water has resumed. That pretty much sums up what life here has been like this past year. Trials and triumphs, ups and downs, fulfillment and disappointment, always played out against a backdrop of stunning natural beauty. It certainly hasn't been an easy year, physically or mentally, but it has been a good one.
I'm sorry things have been quiet around here lately. Even life in the backwoods can get busy and demanding and leave little time for hobbies. We're off to do some holiday traveling soon, so it will continue to be quiet for a little while still. But I hope you'll stay tuned! It's taken all my self-control not to write about some of the Christmas goodies I prepared, but all will be revealed post-holiday when no surprises can be ruined. In the meantime, I'd like to say a big, heartfelt thanks to everyone who's read this blog over the past ten months. I've so often been cheered and encouraged by your comments and emails, and you've truly helped make this experience a joy. Here's wishing you all the very best for the holiday season and for 2010!
Yesterday morning, I stumbled around sleepily (not a morning person) in the dark, dark morning until trumpeting swan calls prompted a glance out the window. Jack Frost had resumed his reign over the lake, and Janne and I decided it was time for what will likely be the last boat ride of the year.
We rowed right to the edge, dipped our hands in the freezing water, and listened to the satisfying crack of the lake's frozen surface as boat met ice.
Some of us remain unconvinced by boats.
"I'd rather be chasing squirrels."
The freezing of the lake coincides with the southern whooper swan migration. These aren't the tame variety that aggressively beg for food in city parks. They've clearly enjoyed a life away from human interruption, and made it pretty clear that we wouldn't get close. But someone did leave behind this feather.
How's your landscape changing?
Happy weekend to all!
Just as I was poised to complain bitterly about the last several weeks of freezing rain and seemingly total darkness, the sun decided to make an appearance and suddenly there wasn't so much to moan about. I'm still learning the trick to coping with this time of year, but I think it has a lot to do with slowing down and savoring the indoors...and dashing for the front door whenever the sun gets over its shyness. I miss spending days outside without getting damp and cold, but then there's all that reading and making that would never have gotten done. Still, the brightness of snow will be a welcome respite. Snow, as the Finns say, beautifies.
As for the making that's occupied many indoor hours, here's a little something I stitched for my elder niece's birthday:
It's made of old jeans and an upcycled pillowcase that I scored at a thrift shop. Yes, those are hedgehogs!
I thought the bright pink lining and straps would add enough of an accent so that surface decoration wouldn't be necessary, but after I sewed the whole thing together, it looked a bit dull. That's when I got the clever idea of sewing on applique. Note to self: always add applique to small bags before assembly!
So the stitching is a bit wonky, but apparently this was forgiven. I think I have the hedgehogs to thank for that.
Speaking of thrifting, a couple weeks ago I was reunited with a long-lost, university friend. We'd lived only minutes from each other in Helsinki without ever crossing paths (and anyone who lives anywhere in this small country knows how unlikely that is!) and finally reconnected just as she's emigrating to a place not too far from my home in the US. So we were classmates in London, unknowing neighbors in Helsinki, and now we've more or less swapped countries.
Which brings me back to thrifting. It turns out my friend has been busy blogging too. I'm slightly embarrassed to reveal that we've been frequenting the same vintage/thrift shops, but while she's emerged with enough content for years of blog posts, I've remained very much a plain Jane. If you enjoy original, offbeat, DIY fashion...and cats!...check out No Signposts in the Sea. I know I'll be reading.
I already declared my great and undying love for wristwarmers last spring (check out the bangle wristerwarmer tutorial if you share my passion!), and 'tis the season once again. Only this time, I have not one, not two, but three new, handmade pairs of my favorite woolly accessory.
The first two pairs came into this world when I foolishly decided to try a bit of fulling (that's felting pre-knit items) in the days when we were still living without running water. I haven't tried it since, but I'm pretty sure there's good reason for the standard washing machine method. After much hauling of lake water and ineffectual scrubbing, I finally broke out a spray bottle and hot iron and more or less transformed a moth-eaten, thrift shop find into usable felt. But leftover were cuff and and waist scraps, full of holes and not convincingly felted either. I fiddled with one around my wrist, and tada! a new wristwarmer was born.
It doesn't really look felted at all, does it? But somehow all that rinsing and scrubbing managed to secure the raw edges just enough. I cut the pieces down to size, stitched them up, and then needle felted over the holes. But there were still so many scraps, and I was so pleased with these that I decided to make a second, longer pair with the same color scheme.
The two sections are sewn together using Betz White's felted seam technique.
You got a glimpse of the beginnings of the third pair back in September, when my thoughtful sister sent me the Tonalita Wrist Cuff pattern and yarn as a gift. I believe the pattern is exclusive to the Acorn Street Shop in Seattle, but, happily, they do mail order. Behold the finished product:
It might be cold outside, but I think it's safe to say my wrists will be warm and cozy!
What a fabulous way to brighten a dreary, Monday morning: tucked between the bills, today's post contained a copy of British sewing magazine Sew Hip! with a feature on yours truly along with three other talented crafters and bloggers. Writer Christine Chitnis of Lavender and Limes contacted me some months ago for an interview, and I've been waiting excitedly for the magazine to appear ever since. The article, entitled Simple Living, Handmade Touches, details our creative, DIY journeys and meaningfulness we find in making things by hand.
I'm so honored to be featured with three exceptional women: Amanda of Soule Mama, Maya of maya*made, and Tif of Dottie Angel. Soule Mama is one of the very first blogs I ever read, and was a great inspiration for the creation of A House Called Nut. I've long admired Maya's beautiful, sustainable creations, and was very pleased to learn about Tif, her gorgeous blog, and handmade journey.
I understand Sew Hip! is available from sewing and craft stores across the UK and US, and you can also order copies online. Check it out!
Update: You can read the article online here.
I especially love making things for the tiny people in my life. Baby clothing is so much easier and faster to make than it is for adults, and there aren't the same worries about colors, styles, exact fits etc. And then there are the playthings, which are a delight to make, but I'm not sure I or my adult friends would find very entertaining.
I received the pattern for this dress as a gift from the talented Christine over at Origami Mommy. We caught the sewing bug around the same time and when I saw the lovely dress Christine had made for her daughter, I knew I wanted to make one for my baby niece as well. I actually made it back in August, but such is the patience required of bloggers who make gifts and write about them!
You can find details of the book by following the links above, along with craft tutorials, and many wonderful links to free online patterns for wee ones.
The fabric is the same one I used for the Spring Ruffle Top a few months back. There's still plenty left--should I start horrifying people with matching outfits? Naah.
Thank you very much for your get well wishes! Between travel and flu attacks, I feel like I've been living in some sort of bizarre time warp for the past month or so, and am really looking forward to a good dose of normal. There's been one happy modification to the definition of 'normal' around here. While I was busy sneezing in another time in a far away galaxy, great changes took place in our backyard and I'm happy to announce that water, hot and cold, once again flows from our taps. Hooray! After four months without running water, it became apparent that the well wasn't sufficient for much of the year, and we now have a clever lake water filtration system. So not only can I now breathe through my nose, I can shower too. Now that's the life.
As I was pondering these strokes of luck on Saturday, I gazed out to the window and found that a new landscape had been painted. The lake is never static and never, ever dull.
There were two curious lumps of snow resting on the ice, which turned out to be a pair of migrating whopper swans. I crunched my way over to them on the frozen ground too excitedly, and they hurried along on their southward journey.
Some little dogs were happy about the fresh sheet of ice too. The lake in the summer is a menacing place for certain furry creatures, but in the winter it's nothing but a vast playing field. (Not to worry, he's standing near the shore over shallow water.)
The temperature has risen again and all the traces of ice have vanished. This swelling, freezing, and frosting with brief, warm intervals will continue for a little while still. Then the lake will be covered in thick ice and snow and our winter adventures will begin!
