To have the blues... and use your ears...

Well, technically, it is not I who have the blues, it is my neighbours. And it is not a miserable state of mind I am accusing them of either, but a whole sea of heavenly scented, luxuriously overgrown lavender, spilling out onto the pavement in the front of their house.

To my delight, some of the blue beauties are also spilling over to our side of the fence, and as I am a keen budget decorator, a few stems were snippety-snipped the other day, and brought inside...

I then ventured into our own garden, to find that the lamb's ears plants I planted not long ago, were ready to be harvested and used in my first, stumbling attempts to make a decorative ball, inspired hugely - of course - by the queen of lamb's ears creations, Lotten.

Adding to the cheap and cheerful display an old necklace from the shop Indiska in Sweden, and I think we are ready to roll.

As the sun was setting and our little town saw the first rain shower in several weeks...

I happily seized the moment to curl up on the sofa, light some candles and breathe in the fresh post-rain evening air through the open doors...

I hope there is room in your life to curl up on a sofa, light a candle and breathe in summer...

Sending you little puffs of lavender and wishing you all a lovely Wednesday!

Horsey, horsey, don't you stop...

... just let your feet go clippety-clop...

The camp site we stayed on in Devon last week, was on a farm. There were horses, hay, rusty iron fencing, and all the other farm-y details one could ever need to, once again, bring out the camera...

As the sun was setting, everything seemed to turn golden, and even the ever-present and ever-annoying stingy nettles seemed almost attractive for a moment...

With these country-scented images, I wish you a golden Tuesday!

Rhododendron overdose...

Just by the camp site where we stayed last weekend, was a small river. Next to it a path, leading us into fairy tale country. Forests of rhododendron, the soothing sound of water flowing gently and only occasionally rushing a little faster as it tries to negotiate some larger stones.

Small man-made bridges and natural stepping stones, inviting young boys to test their balance and bravery. Man-made or fairy craft? Who am I to say...

And there he goes, my oldest offspring, his long, curly hair bouncing up and down as he explores the tempting 'secret' path. A second later, his younger brother will have caught up with him, after having shouted his name and begged him to wait for him to catch up. Eager not to miss out on whatever excitement may cross their path, the youngest child will try to keep up with his older, much adored but much faster, brother.

A moment later, a new game will have been invented, where words like 'rescue mission' and 'space ship' may play important roles. Unless it turns into a serious bug spotting operation, of course. Which it might very well do.

Exmoor National Park in Devon boasts extraordinary beauty and comes highly recommended for a visit!

Frog-squatting fuss...

The midsummer spirit lingers...

... that is, inside this 'exiled' Swede...

Here in the UK, no one quite seems to understand

what all the midsummer fuss is about...

... and long gone are my feeble attempts to rustle up some enthusiasm in the Brits about squatting like frogs and try to look moderately sane whilst singing and dance-jumping around a phallic, leaf-clad, erected pole... I wonder why - it does sound like an awfully attractive thing to do..., non?

Instead, this year I will let this

phallic metal wire dome remind me

of my frog-squatting days of yore...

... and start plotting for a midsummer party,

Swedish style, next year...,

... after which the local Brits will never be the same...!

Wishing you a lovely weekend!

Tête-à-tête with Mr and Mrs Bug...

Tonight is the night Swedish girls pick seven different types of flowers, one of each, before they go to bed. This should be done in complete silence, even if it means choking on the giggles that threaten to erupt from inside...

The seven flowers are then put under your pillow... and the man of your life will appear in your dreams...

Usually, the only outcome of this ceremonious floral gathering is a family of bugs transferred from the flowers to your bed, who will greet you in the morning, happy to have woken up in such civilised sleeping accommodation...

To all of you, whether you celebrate Midsummer or not, I wish you a very special Friday and that tonight you may dream of the love of your life...!

(Wreath made of a willow bunch from IKEA, first soaked in the bath tub overnight. The "ribbons" are torn out of an old sheet, and the rambling rose and ivy found in our garden. Tomorrow, you are welcome to join this wreath as it moves outside and finds a new home in a walnut tree..)

Are you a happy camper...?

Confession time. I am certainly no snob when it comes to holiday accommodation, and I have slept in very basic, if not primitive, rooms in my life. Camping, however, is a whole different story. Not quite my cup of tea. Not even if it is an English cuppa', made over the camp fire in the most romantic of primitive living attempts.

Now, here comes 'however' number two. If you make me go to north Devon, offer to pack everything and also take care of food preparations, AND place me in one of the most beautiful camp sites in this country, who sell home-made coffee cake slices the size of the North American continent, then I may just be open for negotiation. Just.

As this camp site had a small shop cum café, it also boasted a small seating area in the garden. And if for nothing else, then I think it might have been worth coming here for that. Just look at these fabulous grassy roofs and ivy-clad poles - oooh, yes we like that, we like that a lot!

Last weekend was spent here, and more photos will follow in another blog entry, as the camera just would not stop snapping in this gorgeous area...

Seasonal peek-a-boo...

My little "seasonal cabinet" in the kitchen was

yesterday given a modestly royal

and regally floral make-over...

... albeit perhaps not the most lasting of arrangements,

as most of its contents will not look perky for long...

I am very fond of this little scruffy cabinet

with its chicken wire door,

picked up at a local second-hand

shop for next to nothing.

Three tiny daisies stretching their little

necks high into the air,

greeting the world with a sunny smile.

I can almost hear their high-pitched little

voices, giggling and gossiping,

thinking we humans can't hear them...

One of my hand-made wooden "signs"

joined this little floral congregation...

'And so...

there was light, there were flowers,

and all was well in the Swenglish house'...

Wishing you all a week filled with flowers,

light and some soul-fuelling sun!

Ps. For those of you living in suspense

about yesterday's frog "outcome",

I can reveal that my lips are still dry...