The ghosts of Christmas past..?

So this year I managed to honoured the age old tradition of oversleeping past Julottan. 

Like every year..

Julotta is the Swedish word for Christmas church but actually means...Christmas...8..because it starts at 8 o'clock in the morning. I know it's not the same in England, its much later and doesn't have the same traditional significance but still, I thought I'd give it a go this year too. 

I woke up at half past 10.

But it kind of brings me to another thing I strongly associate with Christmas: Ghosts.

Aside for the candlelit carols and the crunchy snow and the achievement of getting up early there's another reason 10 year old me was so eager to go to church early on Christmas day.. Almost every year I got some sort of ghost story book (as many children do) for Christmas and one story goes like this: 

De dödas Julotta

There is an old lady who wakes up to see the lights are lit in the church. She thinks she has overslept and hurries to get dressed and runs up to the church. As she runs she hears carol singing and feels so ashamed of her self for having to go in there late while everyone in the village watches. She gets there, opens the door and with her eyes down on the floor she walks over to her bench and sits down. For a second she thinks about the strangely dark blueish light in there..and a rotten smell..? but nevermind that! Now she will listen to the priest! But..she doesn't recognise him. Who is that? She turns to the person next to her to ask, but..she doesn't recognise them either. Then the one in front of her turns around and she breaths a sigh of relief! It's her neighbour. But as the woman opens her moth to speak she remembers..Her neighbour has been dead for over a week now.. "Get out of here!" she sais to the old woman, "get out before they notice you, you're too early, this is the mass of the dead. But be careful and remember to throw your shawl behind you when you leave!". Carefully she gets up and walks towards the door. Almost running she pulls open the door and throws her shawl to the claw-like fingers behind her. She hears screams behind her as she runs all the way home. 

In the morning when the priest comes to prepaid for Julottan he finds a piece of the old ladies torn up shawl on each bench in the church. Along with the usual gravedirt..

There's some variations, sometimes it's a young maid who oversleeps and sometimes she meets her dead grandfather but that's pretty much how it goes and...I always wanted to find out if it was true. No smoke without fire..is there?

In the end and in the same spirit I also ended my Christmas day traditionally! by being shit scared of demons and sleeping with the lights on. For me Christmas will always be more ghostly then Halloween. Both in stories and for real.

Scary Christmas!

God Jul

Det finns nåt speciellt varmt med Svenska traditioner kring jul nu när det inte längre finns omkring mej. Kanske också lite för att jag nu får behålla bara de delar som jag faktiskt tycker om. Inget obehagligt stirrande, ingen present ångest eller lutfisk. Inga bagage-tunga släktingar... Utan lite mer såhär:

God Jul and a Merry Christmas to all.

Dan före dopparedan.

Historieätarna firar Jul :)

Dan före dan före dopparedan, Jul-video.

Pippi firar jul

A tiny advent post.

This is about a week old now but in the spirit of how my own advent calender used to look like as a child I made this..mine had a train but you get the picture.

I do still love the English Dickensian Christmas. You do really know how it should be done here! But in true mothering style I do notice that I try to recreate the good bits of my own childhood into my child's life..I suppose it was going to happen eventually. Thadaa!

(it now has little presents ties to the metal rings)

One thing I do plan on doing this year though is kind of a mash. I'm going to make the look of a Dickensian Christmas for a Scandinavian taste pallet. No stupid raisins involved for example.

Just have the awkward conversation with my child first about how he has to stop outing Santa in public and let other kids belive in him...for their parents mental well being. Let's hope that goes well!

Happy advent!

"Couldn't keep it in, heaven knows I tried"

They are everywhere now aren't they! Disney princesses are back in fashion again and you would have to be a hermit on a mountain not to notice. Without internet. So this is clearly not that place. 

One of my sons favourite films now is Frozen and it got me thinking..what moments stuck with me from my Disney watching? For girls it's pretty clear who you should be identifying with (the princess/girl/maincharacter..and for boys NO ONE because yeah..more on that later.) I never identified with any of the characters really but there were defining moments that I can still say shaped my little girls brain..

1. Belle

This was the first film I saw on cinema..mostly because it had a 5 year age limit and this was 1991. But as the girl who sat by the roadside wanting nothing more than to start walking this was a revelation..

Now, in hindsight, Belle just went to the woods and married the first brute she could find and "changed him with love" and I'm glad that bit wasn't the one that stuck!

2. Next up is what always made my heart jump, Aladdin.

This is not really meant in a romantic way (although I totally would have, haha) but more in that this is who I identified with at the time. It just turns out when there are no food snatching girls around Aladdin does just fine.

3. Now this one I have to say probably stuck because of childhood traumas. My life changed dramatically over a few years and to this day I have trouble remembering much of my life. Here's Anastasia.

4. For a change, this is not a song! but this is THE moment for me when it comes to the Disney of my childhood. Esmeralda is still my favourite character and probably the one I would pick if I had to be a "Disney princess".

I think in a way this was the kind of female role model I wished I had had in real life really. I was no stranger to injustice and poverty and independence..and I was always jealous that I didn't inherit my dads black hair.. :) (he did get me the Notre dame playset though so..fair enough!) So I suppose this is who grown up me tried to recreate. Much like other girls recreate Cinderella or Belle.

5. Now, by this time I'm already grown up and the only reason I even heard this is because it is, as I said, Lus favourite film...but it fits in better life-wise in this place so I'll put it here. Because I wish I could have had this as my inspiration too. Here's Elsa.

6. Lastly, this is just my favourite Disney song..more now than before. For obvious reasons... 

..at least to me. 

So there! I want to say that just because you watch Disney as a child you don't necessarily turn out to expect a prince on a horse or believe in happily ever after. What you take from what you see is entirely personal, if somewhat led. You don't have to be a princess in your own story to be something. I'd pick "Justice!" .

Better late then never!

 "Remember remember the 5th of November"

Being slightly cheeky on bonfire night never killed anyone. Hopefully.

Ending it with our Victorian witches.

Now Halloween is over. Faded lights, candy papers and fake spider webs everywhere. From pumpkins and pizzas to the long Sunday hungover it was..glorious.

After the candy and booze hedonism that weekend we spent the rest of it staring at Halloweeny movies and eating lam (mmm!). One of the films we watched was Hocus pocus and..I came to think of a thing. 

Every time you see witches portrayed in popular culture they have one thing in-common: they all look distinctly Victorian. Any time you see witches as they would have been thought of at the time when people actually believed in witches it will be a historical drama/crime about the suffering of the innocent, which is undoubtedly the most accurate portrayal of a witch, but not a "real" witch. In comedies/horror/family films where they have power and such they all look very Victorian, if not modern. And I can't help but wonder.. is this another bi-product of the fact that we are essentially still only living at the end of the era that started with the Victorians?

There are many things that suggest that, especially here in England. Many words are still just a development of a Victorian word (like bus or front room). We still live in their houses and live by their social values (like free market and nuclear families ).. and I know for a fact that you can pass for eccentric in Victorian clothes but take it just 20 years further back and you're in fancy dress!

So when I once heard that we may still just be living at the end of their era it totally made sense..and we have more in-common with them now than since then as well which is probably why they are so popular!

But back to the witches. 

We still think of witches the way the Victorians made them. And I want to embrace that. There was nothing funny about the fear of women that sparked the fires of the 1600's.. but I find the Victorian witches very funny! Instead of being victims that get burned they are just the kind of witch I would like to be: powerful, self confident and a snappy dresser! 

Taking out my stripy tights now... where's my broomstick!?

¤

The night before the night.

Decorations up, costume finished, and pumpkins carved. If only I can finish the pirate captain coat now then Halloween can begin! 

I decided to go with my fortune teller idea, so here it is...dark but totally finished. I'm way too proud of the fact that the only thing I bought for it was a scarf and some bracelets..! the rest is old curtains and bedclothes sewn up into a gypsy dress. Scarf was second hand anyway. Hipster points. 

Anywaay! 

I thought I went a bit overboard with the decorations but it actually turned out really well! And after our night before night pumpkin carving this evening there's pumpkins to finish it off as well. Turns out carving pumpkins are lots of fun doing with lots of people.. although one might be a melon. But still! 

I even managed to make some decorations for other people as well.. some lanterns for a friends ghost story night tomorrow and hopefully some more as well if I have time because they were a lot of fun to make..! 

And now that it is past midnight and officially Halloween I wish you all the luck. Don't let the spirits get you..!

Sleep well.

a Rippery Halloween update (creepy warning!)

 

 So I ruled out Mary Kelly as my Halloween personality, it just creeped me out too much! But here's an interesting and terrifying thing I found in my research: They have re-made her face. 

If you have even slightly looked into the ripper murders you have probably seen the pictures of the murdered women, all prostitutes, most in their middleage and well..dead. The difference with Mary Kelly is that she was young and he just went completely murder nuts in there. Of course someone took a picture.. If there had been instagram then this would have been on it right away.

But apparently someone thought it would be an interesting idea to know what she actually looked like! (including me. regret!) And I'm presuming someone else had the skills so here it is. The face of Mary Kelly.

It will surely haunt my dreams. 

But speaking of: here's the longest trailer ever for one of my favourite films!

My costuming dilemma.

After having stressed my ass off I now learned that I was a week early and Halloween is in two weeks not one. Yeeey! Costume time!

 

So here's a quick costume thing:

It's been established for a while that the Lus will go trick or treating as a Pirate Captain this year. Haven't gotten it squeezed out of him if its a Captain Hook kind of captain or a Pirate Captain from an adventure with scientists kind of captain he has in mind but the coat is pretty much the same anyway. Hopefully that will be the only thing I'll make since he has...a lot...of pirate things already.

Aaand because I take any excuse to dress up I thought I would! There is a divide though...First I thought I'd go easy and be a witch. I already have the broomstick! Then I got bored... So I have two ideas: Fortune teller and Mary Kelly.   

This is very much a future vs. past thing and I cant quite make up my mind if I want to, dare to, say a final goodbye to my past or go into my slightly foggy future.. Luckily I have most things for both already so I can procrastinate for a little bit! 

Part of me do really want to be a bit gory this year though...so will see.

Spook on..!

Halloweening it up!

I love Halloween. It feels like the end of the year and the beginning of the next in some ways. I love the dark spookiness..it's an indulgence I was never quite allowed as a child so now I take the opportunity to live it trough my own child..as one does!

Halloween is not a 'thing' in Scandinavia. We have Easter as our witch burning, sweet collecting and spirit out driving season. When it came to us in the mid 90's trough England from America people didn't exactly embrace it! So we had secret Halloween parties in my hallway while my grandmother talked of hell and damnation. 

I'm sure it is all different now though..

So now that I can I fill my house with all kinds of ghoulish things! Candles and ghosts.. and I've only just started! Because it seems the English start early! 

 I did buy some things but I always feel better about it if I've made it so..lots and lots of lanterns coming up.

 

I think I like it so much because Halloween asks nothing of you, it's not stressful or pushingly happy just a break in between two evils..Also it allows for a lot of darkness to come out..darkness that is otherwise pushed aside in normal life..darkness that has always been in me. And after all, the dark things are what makes a person. 

So there. Welcome to my Halloween countdown! It's gonna be potentially spookilishious, haha!

I resign.

It's been 13 years. 

When I celebrated my birthday this year I also celebrated the death of something that was made by others and now killed by me.

I remember the exact moment when I became what people call a "Muse"..I was 15 in a candlelit room with my hair curled..and that flash of light set my perception of my self in stone. 

I can't say I haven't loved it, because I have. I have seen things and done things I would never take back and I have met the most extraordinary people. But being a muse is not about being effortlessly inspiring. Being an extension of someone else's imagination, being secretly aware of your appearance at all times, existing simply to create a feeling in someone else that you do not get to feel...seeing others accomplishing things you wish you could do..That is what a muse does. A muse is someone without an inner self.

So I resign. After 13 years I am tired of being just an outside. I no longer care to inspire, I want to be my own person, with my own accomplishments and give my self the right to exist. There is a person in there somewhere that I'd really like to know. So from now on I will write whatever I like.

 I am a muse no longer.

My birthday - breakfast forever!

So yeah, took some time away from creating stuff to celebrate that I have survived for 28 years! Yeah I know..amazing. 

In true wierd-style I became the Red Queen (finally got to wear my red cape!) and invited Alice and the Cheshire Cat to a sugar and alcohol filled pre-birthday party in the garden. Kind of like this:

Just to make it clear, if I was in wonderland..I would definitely be the red queen. She is my favourite! And I suppose it's not for nothing that my husband said he would love to live in my world...but I would most likely become the new Stalin...

Anyway!

My birthday was just one long morning with cake in bed with my crown on... And roses. Lots and lots of red roses..! Thank you for that.

So have I learned anything so far..? well....

1. I never actually take breaks from creating. Not really.

2. The older you get the more you understand your parents..mostly because you become increasingly like them!

3. face creams don't work. none of them.

4. It's more important to be happy and kind than to be right.

5. Genealogy is fucking awesome!

There. Hope you all enjoy ageing as much as I do :)

Finding ones place.

Some days ago I had a strange conversation with someone I barely know. It was strange partly because I'm always surprises me how surprised British people are when I say that this is a country with a very strong class system...but it was also strange because I accidental revealed something obvious but, to me, quite shameful. I have a love/hate relationship with the class system. I know it isn't good, not in an objective way..and I do not believe in the separation of people or property before people...at all. But as if by accident..I fell in exactly where I had always wanted to be. Like a puzzle piece that had never fitted. I secretly love that I was lucky..in the puzzle of the British class system I am the lucky one. And for a little while..that is kind of nice.

But for a long long time I've been simulating that in my dollhouses, I think. That feeling of calm excitement when environment and person just fits perfectly together. They do say you always want what you can not have..maybe I just wanted to belong all this time. Maybe. Definitely.

So now that my latest (and awsomest) house is all finished I'm letting my dolls have a peek! It was the child that first suggested it but I must say..I quite like moving them around the house! It's like they are checking it out...

I have two of my main dolls finished since 2 last night...a little boy almost finished. One of them I just made like I like it so that will have to be me...then comes a sister. A mixture of my real sister and my soulsister I would say... And soon to be finished a little Lus.

To be continued...

It's all of us.

If you are currently reading this in a room with more than 5 women you are statistically likely to be in the presence of a rape victim. And since the popular belief that "evil" comes to us from outer space is highly unlikely I can't help but wonder... If you are in a room with more then 5 men..how likely are you to be in the presence of a rapist? And why is there no statistics on that?

Airing my house

I have sort of decided to try to hold on to my inspiration and finish my 1640's house. The past week I've actually finished quite a lot of it! No more people so far but the attic is now finished on the inside and the rest is getting there.. 

 

That's my slide show! 

It's mostly just some small stuff and the outside that needs fixing..and the people 

I have finally decided who is to live there. The older I get the clearer it gets that family was always the most important thing...maybe not in the traditional sense, but still! So I am putting a family in there. In a way it will be a different version of my own family.. Then of course I have my house-man and all the other random people I'll be putting in there. Haven't decided on who they will be yet, but I'm sure it will come to me!

One thing is for sure though: someone will be a witch.

Girly midnight rants.

I suppose it should be called "womanly midnight rants" because I cringe every time a grown woman is referred to as a girl. But anyway, here it goes:

I've been having a hard time lately. They do just seem to follow each other sometimes, but this one has been particularly hard. And that's Why I Need Feminism. I'm sure you have all seen the pictures by now; female holding sign being "already strong" and declaring why she needs no hairy, angry feminists fighting for her! 

 Well  I do need it!

But I felt like one of those girls the other day. It was late and I walked down to the shop and on the way I met a friend of mine so I took out my headphones from my ears. We talked and walked. He went one way and I went the other. Got my juice. As I walked on I realized I no longer had music in my ears. And the fear that came over me was..unexpected! I could see people looking at me. I say people but I mean men..every single one of them stronger then me who consider me just barely human. And if anyone comes up and talks to me I will pretend to like it moderately so I can slip away. People have tough me all my life that my body is not mine to decide over. My will is barely worth considering. And I haven't even gotten to the rape part yet! 

I have called my self a high risk rape-victim both seriously and as a joke many times because I know that my refusal to be afraid is provoking and because I am not doing it out of ignorance but because I hate the teeny tiny living space I have been dealt in life. And I hate it when guys think they are nice and say I'm not like other girls. I am exactly like all the other girls and there is nothing wrong with that! We all want some fucking living space without being harassed or corrected or slut-shamed or raped or murdered or told to like "nice guys" or told how to look, be ,live, like, feel, behave, talk! Is that too much to ask without a condescending hand on the thigh?

So I put my headphones back in my ears and turn up my Guns n Roses. But I walk straight home because that night is no different then any other...and I had become like all the other girls. Compliant. 

That day passed and I will probably never stop refusing to fear my world, but it made me think of those ones with the signs. In a way..needing feminism is like turning off the music in your ears. Without the distractions it's fucking terrifying. 

But I do need feminism.

Not because I'm weak or can't open jars. I need it because it gave me the strength not to fear when I needed it the most. To know that I'm not alone..and to not be that girl that is so different. Alienated amongst men. I need it because it gives me hope.

And if all those "women against feminism" people don't need it then good for you! but don't deprive the needy because you have all you need.

Ps. There are no "nice guys". Bubble burst. 

And I bet women are more human then men because we have to deal with your stupid ass shit when you're too lazy to think for your self.

My little ones.

This is a 3 part story..

Firstly, I finished my house man. After many attempts, here he is! The first person living in my 1640's world.

It took me a while to figure him out...it's my first one and I didn't want to make it to difficult but also not go for the stereotypical image of the time (cavalier-style) since it's not going to fit in with the rest if I do.. 

So I mixed and matched a little! Shirt and coat of an older style (more common with roundheads) with a feathery hat and awesome boots (like the cavaliers). The trousers are just what trousers looked like back then. And sword. Must have a sword. Other then that it's fairly simple.The beard was one I'd made much earlier so now he has kind of a careless look, but I like that. Very happy with my little man actually. I will call him Matthew. Like the apostle. 

Then I have my other little one that is quite different!

Once upon a time I knew no English. My greatest victory was to get to sit in the big rocking chair. Once upon a time I stood barefoot in a field of strawberries and heard the wind blow trough a thousand birch leafs with a newborn cat in my arms..and since I clearly grew up 100 years ago I got to hear some odd stories. These stories are creeping back into my life now after 20 years in the back of my mind (thanks partly to Väsen)

This might become one of many, we'll see.

My favourite was always the story about the woods keeper (skogsrå). She is a beautiful nature-like girl with a hollow back like a rotten tree that guards the forest and tricks men to their deaths. Somehow I find that appealing. The thought behind it is that the forest is not ours to use as we please but we have to be respectful or things will go badly...  So this is my own Skogsrå in a jar.

I definitely think we have lost some very useful fear when we lost the supernatural.

 

And lastly, my own little one.

 In my fascination for Swedish folklore I also made my Lus some Tomte skor (elf slippers..ish). Tomtar, according to the stories are little people that live under your floors and keep your house nice but can easily get angry and fuck up your stuff! There might be some more tomte-like things following...maybe. (But this is really the creepiest thing I've seen this week!)

Now...I think it's time I return to England again.

Morning rambles

Today I was walking trough town with my friend and I told her that moving to England felt like stepping back in time...she told me that she's always wondered how Scandinavia can be so modern and I thought to my self - 'It's because we're not a backwards looking post-imperial place with a deep love for class and capitalism!'. I didn't say that...obviously...I'm in England now, and whatever some people might say, we do acclimatize quickly here.

But anyway, this all made me think of that sense of belonging and identity that I have always found so hard. 

I have been a foreigner all my life..I have moved 15 times..I am obviously a child of divorce...I have no name of my own, now nationality of my own, no language of my own, no family of my own. No belonging. Everything I have has been made along the way.

So when my baby asks me if he's English..I say yes. Because it's hard to give someone an identity when you have non of your own. And THAT is beauty of England (that and the trees!). Everyone is foreign so we can all be British.

Now, the motivational quote for that day:

=D

Good bye Lucille.

Yesterday I let one of my dolls go. 

Some time ago I made a bunch of travelling dolls that I forgot to tell anyone about, and the idea was to place them out in town or together at the train station or something as a kind of "doll installation"...or put one on a train...but then I got too attached and couldn't let them go. 

Also a story of class difference, but more on that later.

I made them in the aftermath of my own immigration when I read more about the masses of people emigrating to America in the 19th and early 20th century. For obvious reasons I could relate very well to  the people who risked everything they had for a better life and a future for their children.. And as some of them were my own relatives and I wear an "America ring" around my neck almost every day I was easily sucked in. And in any case..I do love to travel around! But yesterday I saw my first travelling doll leave my cupboard and travel away..

It was this artsy place that I go to sometimes that collected artworks to put up in town and I dropped her into the artbox. Hopefully she will make it out there with all the other stuff...

And I will call her Lucille. After the song.

A taste from my Annoying-bowl

This is a post of annoyances. I think of it like this: all those small things that annoy me are like those sticky sweets in a bowl on an old ladies front parlour table. You reluctantly try to pick one...but here comes three!

Because no one likes the easygoing people anyway, these are the things that annoy me today:

nr 1

My sons infant school. 

Now, I'm sure the whole system is flawed. I'm sure all those princes in politicians clothing that generally seem to be running the country into the ground happily looked into their monocles and down on the people and said "we can't have you learning to think". And surely there is an excuse book at the office that the teachers have to master instead of pedagogy... But I truly hope my sons teachers smokes weed behind the shed because...wow.

let's hope it's this shed.

You can not put over your responsibility as a teacher or an adult on a 4 year old and shrug your shoulders and smile about it!! And if your attitude to the social, emotional and mental development of the kids can be summed up in "I don't really care" maybe teacher isn't the most fitting job?  Next time people complain about pregnant teens and unmotivated children...look behind the shed at the infant school. 

Warning: don't stumble on the excuse-book.

nr 2

Charity.

 Everytime I walk down Week street daytime I do a kind of street slalom between all the mousetrap-like charity people. Not because I hate lion babies or think cancer research is unimportant. I just don't believe in charity. In fact it makes me angry. They are only there to soothe the bad conscience of the comfortable middle classes. To stand there, on the streets of one of the richest countries in the world and pretend we need to give money to save the lions or the cancer sick?! We all know where the money should come from for those very important things. It's called priority. I'm sure the Queen could save all the lions in an afternoon if she wanted. And where does taxes go if not to things the people need...like cancer research. And schools. And hospitals. But the rich get richer and the poor get poorer every day and clearly people don't care enough to change that... So don't you dare stand there and ask me to enable capitalism.  It's like those "your money kills" signs, as long as we give to charity the rich can keep their money and the lions can die out, because seriously, how far will that one pound go? But it sure feels nice, doesn't it.

nr 3

Boobs

Boobs is such a topic of conversation now it seems, what's up with that? Are they good or bad right now? Recently a couple of women were thrown out from a bath house in Sweden for swimming topless. Not that it was against any rules...they were just afraid that men wouldn't be able to control their inevitable boners and it would turn into amateur porn (borderline watchable with strong rapey overtones?). But somehow it becomes the responsibility of women to take care of it. Of course they got thrown out. But man-boobs are ok!

 It's like that thing about not getting to breastfeed in public. Surely we have more serious problems if people immediately think of porn...or get disgusted..and men cant see a baby sucking on boobs without turning into a mentally challenged baboon? Because that's the reasons people give...sadly. Or maybe they all came over on Tallink where women were told not to drink because...you know that gets you raped, right! 

But I also hear braless is cool now again so lets hope we soon end up somewhere where we can do whatever the fuck we want about those boobs without all those opinions. They are not some kind of alien life form with magic powers.

And just in case anyone wonders,I'm not a man hating lesbian, I'm for legalizing drugs and I give money to homeless people on the street. Because I'm not a total bitch.

So that's today's annoying subjects. Happy St.Georges day :)

The witch in me.

So now, about something entirely different..but still the same in a way, Happy Easter to all! 

As a Scandinavian school girl and a member of a pentecost revival family I couldn't escape the notion of Easter as a very religious occasion..BUT, as I did grow up in a culture where religion and superstition still mingle quite freely there is something else that has always defined my Easters. Witches.

Of all things I always liked Easter the best. Swedish children dress up as witches on holy saturday and go house to house collecting sweets in a brass coffee pot...and then we eat the chocolate, painted eggs, put feathers on sticks and head out to see the bonfire. And I used to love that.

According to Scandinavian folk believes witches fly on broomsticks and cows to Blåkulla on maundy thursday for their feast with the devil (häxsabbat) to then come back on saturday...hence the fire. And yes, I told this story to my 5 year old. We did swap the fire with an egg-hunt though.. have to acclimatize. 

But here comes the connection to my dollhouse building: In the 1600's this turned into quite the panic all over Europe. So to portray my 1647 world in the most fun way possible I am going to have to throw in a witch! I must admit, the witch hunts have always fascinated me. There is something appealing yet horrifying about a fairy tale coming true..

I suppose spending the summers at my grandparents in the country did make me partial to superstition and folk believes.. I have after all feared näcken, herded cows and watched my granny cook on the stove to the sound of my granddads accordion music. And the jumping in the hay...

  I'm slightly tempted to make her into a Scandinavian witch..but I think this one will have to be English for the accuracy of it. Shame...maybe next time.

I got inspired to make my witch when I improvised some creative witch making with my Lus the other day..now I just have to decide what kind of witch I'll be making...

Just in case I'll lose it later, my witch documentaries! 

(Swedish)

(English)

Ps. as I'm having a day of restlessness and scattered thoughts, this is my current favourite furniture! always wanted one of these...