Category Archives: Everyday stuff

Designing Life vs Describing Life

Today I have struggled with the design. It was a cloudy, hot and slow day and my mind would just not wrap around the concept of designing. Drawing something that later would be made real, take a physical form, is not within my repetoir of thinking talking watching listening. Instead I read, took a walk to the beach to see the sun set beautifully on the pacific, casting purple pink shades on the clouds and the dark sand. And I though “oh I would like to go home and write that novel now, I don’t want to finish the design. I just want to write that novel.” And I looked down on my feet that hade three different shades of sand and thought how I would like to write that down.

This is really what this blog is about, trying to get me out of myself and my mind. Because it is necessary, it is if you want a just world and a full life, you have to work for it. I have to transform the world through my work not to be alienated and to be intuned, intouch and connected. Why then is it so hard? So hard to look at the paper and see the same tree on the paper that is right in front of me in the non-mental world? Why do I keep dividing? How can I see the transformation already happening, transcending in an inbetween? How do I change who I am? How did I become me? Will practical, physical work change me? Better me? Or does it really not matter? Should I leave it up to Rachid altogether and bake a cake instead? I mean that’s also phsycial, practical work. Should I accept that there are roles to play, a part for everyone? Maybe I’m not meant to garden, at least not in such a professional way. Maybe this is just me doubting myself, feeling like a fraud cause I didn’t read all of Bill Mollisons bible on permaculture. For not knowing about scale, about what plant goes where and so forth. But this is what I’m here to learn I guess. And if I just can’t get that practicality to compete with my soft fuzzy mind then so be it, I will write that novel instead, eat that cake and be content that my husband loves me for just exactly that.

Tomorrow I will post my surfgarden design, and it will be spectacularly impractical. But pretty.

Good Night!

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Who wants to give me a house with a yard?

Today is a Malmö day, meaning nothing but grey sky. No wind, no rain, not a gust of life outside. Days like these you wish your garden wasn’t situated several kilometers away from your home. To go to the garden on a day like today means extreme will-power. You must be determined. You must eat a large breakfast or lunch, go to the bathroom five times before you leave and dress in many layers. When you get there you must fight the urge to lay down and die under the power of the greyness. You must fight it with visions of future greenery. You must fight it with the muscle that is your mind and create another state of it, a state not so easily affected by the grey. You must focus your mind on the soil. The soil is never grey.

Ok so now I have no excuse, now I must muster up the energy and the will-power to go to the garden and sow salad and spinach, because I do want to consume these leafs in two months time. I shall prevail! Meanwhile, here are some pictures of the plot before everything happens. News are we have rhubarb! Must also kill all the grass that now wants to take over. Very important to kill grass. We are covering the paths with wood chips from the surroundings where they’ve cut down trees. Works well in keeping grass down. Today we’ve sown cabbage and brussel sprouts inside, cabbage takes such a long time to grow so better get started soon! Anywho, I will not keep you in my Malmö mood, if anyone has a house with a yard laying around, toss it over here!

Check out the fence, the rhubarb and the garlic growing happily in the otherwise dead garden. And behold the glory of my dripping iris!

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A postponing post and a new challenge!

The word procrastinate fits me eeeeeeeew like a glove (two words: Ace Ventura). I’ve been meaning to post a long list of seeds that we bought and the design for the plot and some wise words about stuff I know absolutely nothing about, but nothing happens and now I see why. I can’t have a garden blog. A garden blog is for gardeners, biologists or retired housewifes niether of which I am even close too. Ok maybe the gardener is quite close since I do have a garden, and I’m about to get another one, but I have no right to actually go around calling myself a gardener as if I knew anything about manipulating nature.

On the other hand the whole point of this blog is to make people see that you don’t have to be a specialist to take care of your own needs like food. You don’t have to know anything or even be inclined towards gardening and still have a succesful outcome and an empowering experience. The thing is I have a lovely well red, natural science kinda husband who very well could qualify under the expert tab. I get no say in nothing because all my inputs about anything else but the aesthetics just proves how much I don’t have a clue about anything that has to do with creating life (in the non-human world that is).

Thats why, ladies and gentlemen, I’m getting my very own garden plot! Me and the beloved husband will have a show-down, allotment style! I am completely confident that he will win because I can’t abandon the original plot that would be like leaving your child during its first year when all the exciting things happen to it and when it needs you the most. But still, I shall prevail and be the proof to you all that with no, or very little knowledge, you can grow your own food! It’s not rocket science, it’s not even science, it’s pure survival baby.

By the end of this growing season you won’t have any excuse, so start growing basil on your windowsills and get some batik clothes cus come 2013, you are all bound to be a tad selfsufficient! WOHOOOOO!

and look, here’s the design! Pretty cool eh.


Grow your own food people!

So since I started this blog I’ve been getting alot of compliments on my writing in the post where I don’t mention the plot. THE plot! The plot that will free me from corporations deciding what and what not I put in my mouth. The plot that will show all of you how easy it can be to grow your own food and how little you need to do it. The plot that, after having spent hours in front of the computer, gets me out of my brain and into my body and out again to the real world of living processes.

The tool most people seem to lack in this society of virtual realities is time. But for yourself and all of your lovely unborn grandchildren, take that time! It is worth it and it makes you feel wonderful to see what type of plant a good old swedish cucumber comes from and how many seeds one single radish gives you. It is really an essential thing, growing your own food, and something we all should be a part of. It is only recently that we are so seperated from our food that we don’t even know where it comes from and how it has come to be in the first place. And it is mostly in this part of the world. I have grown up on (poisonous and imported) supermarket food and I had no idea what a cucumber plant looked like until a few years ago. I thought that milk came from grass! Because that’s basically what they told us in school. Now I’m feeling the old vegan twitching in me; we drink breast milk! It’s really quite disturbing. And what’s worse is that we buy the milk from what cows now? We have no idea! Even though the package shows cows gracing and have interviews and phone numbers to farmers you should never trust these cheap tricks to get you to consume whatever they are selling. You have NO IDEA what kind of food this cows are getting or in what environment they live in or if they’re calves are locked in a basement or already slaughtered or how many shots of whatever drug or hormones they have gotten. We buy the food from the supermarket because we think we have too. Because we submit to the state of things. I strongly encourage you to watch Stefan Jarls movie Underkastelsen about all the chemicals we have in our bodies, we don’t want more do we?

That’s why I started this blog, to inspire young more or less healthy people like myself who live in the city to start growing their own. You have to eat, you do it everyday, why then is food such a small concern to you? It should be your top concern! So please keep reading my posts about the wonderful garden plot and start one up yourself! If you don’t have the time, start it with friends and take turns, grow on your balcony or in your window sill do whatever just to see that process. One seed in some soil turned into a harvest of fresh, non-toxic and free food. It’s pure poetry. And by the way, cucumbers come from this plant:

Isn’t it beautiful?

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My first ever chicken!

Hello everybody! I haven’t posted as rabidly as I usually do, the main reason is that I had to return the camera I had borrowed and since I am opposed to the idea of taking a job (I’m just too much of a diva) I haven’t bought my own. Nothing that isn’t edible seems worth my money, that’s why it will take a long time for me to get used to the idea of how much a crappy digital camera costs and how many great old non digital cameras I could get for the same price and not feel bad about it. Give me at least another month (and some cash!). Anywho blogging without pictures, how utterly boring. But hey, it’s better than nothing. Rule number one of blogging, however meaningless or boring your post is, it’s better than nothing. Unless you are one of those plastic surgered bloggers who ruin the lives of millions of insecure teenage girls by showing your ugly plastic self in various poses everyday, you should ALWAYS refrain from posting. You know, help save the world. In your on little way.

While the shallow bloggers save the world I make it just a little bit worse by buying my first ever chicken. Not a live one, a dead one. I’ve been “vegetarian”  (a period I ate fish, and for a while I was vegan) for about ten years until a year ago and I have never, until this day bought a chicken. It is now laying comfortable in my oven, surrounded by potatoes, carrots and an onion. Carefully rubbed in an


use your favourite herbs or the ones at hand, I used

fresh sage, thyme and oregano

two big cloves of garlic

salt n pepa

olive oil

the peel of one lemon

For you who have beared with me for my short time in the blog world, know by now that I’m not very fond of measurments. I just freestyle and you should too! But be reasonable. I used, like I always do when an opportunity shows itself, a mortar to mash it all up in to a perfect rub. First I mashed the herbs, salt and garlic together. The salt helps drive out the moist of the herbs and makes it easier to mash together to a nice paste. Then I added the peel of one lemon and the juice of half the very same lemon. The other part I stuck into the chicken with some more fresh herbs. Add olive oil until it covers the mash and plenty of black pepper. Now carefully use a knife to open up the skin of the chicken and take the rub and rub the inside of the skin, leaving chunks of it in there. This makes the meat get a bit of the action as opposed to only the skin have a great rubbed time. I popped the chicken in the oven and prepared some potatoes,  carrots and one red onion to go with the it. I just cut them all in half, rubbed them too in some olive oil and salt and pepper and then let them keep the chicken company for about one and half hour in 175 degrees or a bit more. I will get back to you with the result!

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Twisting and turning in the system

The system! The Man!

I’m glad I got that out of my system. Systeeeem!! It’s a weird word, system. Sounds like syster and cysta and stem and something a bit sci-fi. I am writing to you today since I left me apartment to join other systemized people in the library of the system, to study the system from the systems point of view (haha I was reading Hamlet). It was ridiculously full of people, all wanting their piece of the system. Stuffing there heads full of it while consuming the edible parts of the system from aluminium wraps and plastic bottles with vitamin signs. Eagerly they were leaning over their laptops and books, as if they were a herd of thirsty desert animals that after days of walking finally found a stream. But as the minutes past on the clock on the wall their faces looked more and more drained, their posture weakened as they slouched more and more on their chairs and I just kept blowing my nose.

The guy in front of me in the quite reading section of the library left after I came, guess it was unbareable for him to sit opposite of such a beautiful young woman, I mean how could he concentrate on whatever boring thing he had dedicated his life to pursue with me on the other side of the table? He left understandebly and all was divinly quite and I couldn’t start blogging, or cleaning or make a new recipe or nothing so I dived into Hamlets weird danish world and was quite consumed by it and my own parallel line of thoughts about it when a girl made an entrance and very loudly dumped all of her five thousand things on the by the man oh so distracted by my beauty, abandoned seat in front of me, while examining the titles of my books. She disappeared for a while and I went back to Denmark. She returned and the first thing she did after putting her humungous book that i suppose was the book of the swedish law with lots of colorful marks in it, on some sort of bookstand was to get a bunch of papers and rip them apart in quite a dramatic fashion.

Uh-oh I thought, this will be a distracting person. And right I was, after that she started glueing papers to her notebook, rip the sides of papers, flip the pages of her notebook and distribute tiny stickers on them for like half an hour. I was like AAAMAGAWD what is wrong with you!?!? Can’t you do that at home? Must you pollute the air of this disciplined place of system worship with your noise and glue? I tried to manifest my disapproval of her noisiness with sighing and looking up from my book every now and again with a stern look. But she was in her own world of glue and stickers. So my study time was justifibly ruined since I could do nothing but observe this creature on the other side on the table and wonder; who the fuck was she? Why do some girls my age get so obsessed with glue and rubbers and stickers? Is their idea of a great time going shopping at the office supply store? Do they have blogs of their own where they go all like “Today I got a new stapler! It’s grey!” Did something horrible happen to her to make her so manic? She seemed to get upset at her notes all the time and was filling in already perfectly visible letters with her mouth tightly pursed. She scared me. She had a pen from the swedish church. Was her father an evil priest that abused her as a child? Or was her father a very strict christian that brainwashed her with fear? These things I will never know, and I didn’t finish Hamlet either.

Autumn is here for real now, grey sky for all eternity until spring arrives. Good thing about the system in these times is music! Tom Waits has a new album! And I just found Lana del Rey, the kings wool.

Enjoy it!

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