The sun has thankfully made a reappearance today. So I put away my razor blades and cancelled plans to slit my wrists. No it wasn't the nasty strep throat that has plagued me for what seems like weeks which prompted this angst, but rather it was that on Sunday morning we turned our clocks back for winter time. I've come to absolutely dread this changeover. While it's true that you get an extra hour in bed on Sunday morning, you still have to suffer shorter days for the rest of the winter.

In Svenska Dagbladet I read of a new study which reports that people are far more affected by the change from summertime to wintertime than anybody had previously thought. DUH! I could have told them that for free.

When I lived in Australia, I was never really affected by the clock change from daylight saving time to winter time. There is comparatively very little difference between daylight hours in summer or winter in South Australia - we're talking about a couple of hours or so. However, now that I live so much further north, it has become really noticeable, with 20 hours of daylight in midsummer and only 5 hours in mid December. That's a huge difference, so it's no wonder that my body clock protests.

At the risk of sounding like a complaining old bat, I'm finding that in summer I have trouble sleeping because it is so light outside that my body doesn't get the signals it needs in order to rest. So I often feel tired. And quite perversely, in the winter I am still tired all of the time. Even if I choose to go to bed at 10.30pm, it does not seem help at all. As a naïve Australian I assumed that Swedes had learned to cope with these varying amount of daylight hours or that perhaps they had simply developed a genetic tolerance to it over the centuries. But this is not the case. I still meet a lot of Swedes who become almost like zombies during the winter months.

Anyway, after feeling like death warmed up last weekend, this week was the time to rebound and get things done. We had laid low last week, but we wanted to make sure we got out of the house a little this time around. We have had the most beautiful autumn weather, so we wandered over to the nearby farm and took advantage of such a pretty afternoon.




This is about a fifteen minute walk from our place and part of a lovely round route from the centre of town. It's hard to believe that we are so close to civilisation when you look at such an obvious rural landscape. This is quite a busy laneway with many pedestrians out for a scenic walk. The road winds along this farm and out to the shore of the lake, following the edge of the water before swinging back into town. It is very narrow and lined with trees, which can make it interesting when pedestrians and large trucks meet.




As you can see, it's quite a tight fit for the truck on its own and I wonder how he'd squeeze past in summer when the trees are sprouting with foliage. Funnily enough, the driver was still able to talk on his mobile phone. Which by the way is not illegal in Sweden.

One other thing that is striking in Sweden is the numbers of people you see out taking a walk. Young, old, men, women, children - they are all out getting some fresh air. And it is not only those walking - you see plenty of cyclists, horse riders, rollerbladers and even those on motorised wheelchairs! I mean, if he can be bothered getting rugged up and going out for a spin, then so can I.




We've also been looking around at the area immediately around Vadstena. There seem to be a lot of tiny hamlets, clusters of farmhouses and many, many churches no matter in which direction you choose to take. This is a view across the fields to the church at Fivelstad, perhaps about 8 kms away from our town. It's quite an imposing looking church, quite dominating the flat landscape around it.




While driving around we found some sheep out for a play. We first saw them sitting in a little covered shelter and it looked really funny. However, once we stopped the car and dug out the camera, they all came tearing out to see us, no doubt thinking we were the farmer come to feed them.




This little trio brought a big smile to my face as they reminded me of the childhood rhyme "Baas baa Black Sheep" and the three bags of wool. It's a little unusual to see sheep in Sweden. I've seen a few out on the archipelago in summer months and on the island of Gotland, but not so much on the mainland. Whether it is too cold and wet for them or there is some other reason, it seems they are not a popular farm animal. This is quite a contrast to what I was used to, with wool exports being one of Australia's big sources of income and sheep abounding on the open plains. While this trio are not the merinos I'm used to seeing, they were a nice reminder of home.




Not far from the sheep farm and nestled on a hill was yet another church. This one is at Hagebyhöga and dates from 1120. This entire region is well known for its churches and I intend to investigate them all in detail over time. I'm sure that they all have fascinating histories as there were great wars fought over the land around here between Swedish and Danish forces.




Our day would not be complete without a water view. While it is very sunny, it is also quite windy yet again. And as the wind is blowing from the west, we thought that a good place to see the waves roll in would be the area around Varamobaden, which is touted as Europe's longest lake sand beach. It is around three kilometres long, curving around a small bay and is incredibly popular in summer for swimming and windsurfing. But today, it was just us, the waves and a few gulls busy fishing. It provided the perfect spot for a light picnic lunch.




Who would have thought that I'd be out on a cold, windy day enjoying a picnic. Certainly not me, that's for sure. But I've found that one of the best ways to combat winter lethargy is to take every chance you can get to go out while its light. The rewards are a feeling of well-being when you get home, rushing inside to the welcome warmth and feeling flushed and energised. It's a great antidote to the winter blues in this cold, northern climate.

Another Australian living in a northern climate even more cold than Sweden (waves to Peter in Canada) sent me this video snippet. He mistakenly thought it was a Swedish group, but they are in fact Norwegian. They are Hurra Torpedo, the world's leading kitchen appliance rock group. You just have to love that! And they are here performing the old Bonnie Tyler hit Total Eclipse of the Heart in a way that is totally unique. It will bring a smile to your face, even as you bemoan the lack of light in your life!

*cough cough* *gasp* *cough cough*

So, does anybody have any idea how hard it is for me to NOT talk? At all?

*cough cough* *gasp* *cough cough*

I've been horribly ill with a serious case of strep throat that is currently doing the rounds here in Sweden. It began on Lambi's birthday when I had a bit of a sore throat. By the Friday night I was feeling the pits and well, the weekend was a complete write-off. I've spent my time since then in bed wishing someone would come and shoot me or else hallucinating about the guy from The Holy Grail coming by with his cart, ringing his bell and yelling out "Bring out your dead".

*cough cough* *gasp* *cough cough*

I have had strep throat previously, but I’ve never had a throat that felt as ridiculously swollen as it has this time. For the better part of the last week, not only could I hardly swallow, but even worse than that, I COULDN’T TALK. Lars-Göran was thrilled as he could ask me things and I couldn't answer. He had fun playing Sounds of Silence and even ringing me on my mobile just to hear me croak. Of course, he forgets that I'll get better and then he's in big trouble as I have the memory of an elephant and urge for retribution that would rival the mafia.

*cough cough* *gasp* *cough cough*

Fortunately I had the services of Nurse Lambi, who stayed close by and made sure she was taken care of. There's nothing that helps your recovery like having to crawl from your death bed to get her bowls of water and food, take her out for walks and move over so she has 90% of the quilt.

*cough cough* *gasp* *cough cough*

I'm glad to say that my throat is now working its way back to normal. It’s still very swollen. It’s still hurting like hell. But at least I can make some kind of sound again, much to the dismay of my husband who had anticipated a continuation of those nice quiet days without me hollering after him, telling him what to do. But hey, as you all know, there is no way to shut me up once there is a possibility of me making a sound again!

*cough cough* *gasp* *cough cough*

So, seeing as I've been sick in bed and not out snapping photographs, I thought that instead of nature shots, we'll stay indoors and keeping on the theme of dead bodies I'll talk about a Swedish culinary delight that I first thought was made out of dead bodies. After all, why would they call them "corpse cakes"? I'm not joking - allow me to introduce Kroppkakor.......




We ate these on Öland a couple of years ago, but they were commercially made. You can in fact make them yourself.

Kroppkakor are often translated as 'body cakes' using the literal modern meaning of the word kropp, which can mean either body or corpse. However, neither meaning makes much sense when applied to what is basically a boiled dumpling. I'm always interested in the etymology of words, so with the help of a Swedish dictionary, I saw that the word kropp has an older meaning that makes a lot more sense in this context.

Kropp is related to the old German word 'kropf' and English word 'crop' where they refer a pouch in many birds and some lower animals that resembles a stomach for storage and preliminary maceration of food (see meaning 6). This seems to be a much more likely source for the name since the dumplings are round pouches filled with meat that are heavy and do take quite a long time to digest.

Anyway, despite knowing that, I was more interested in the idea of revolting Lars-Göran by suggesting we start recycling dead bodies for dinner. (It was the same when I suggested making leek soup, only to have Lars-Göran stare at me as though I was nuts, as the word leek is pronounced exactly like the Swedish word for corpse (lik)).

After some investigation, I found that there are two main variations of the recipe - the original Ölandskroppkakor, which uses shredded raw potatoes and the more modern Smålandskroppkakor, using mashed potatoes. I'd opt for the mashed potato version since they're less work and produce a smoother dough.

But, as I've discovered by trial and error, there is more to boiling a potato than simply dropping it into boiling water. Cooking the potato without it becoming soggy and is an art that was not in my cooking repertoire. After numerous attempts at boiled potatoes, where they started to disintegrate in the pot I began to think that there really must be a secret to this task only marginally more complex than boiling water. I discovered that the potatoes disintegrate when you boil them at too high a boil which causes them to bump around vigorously and break apart. So you need to simmer them gently.

Once you have the dough prepared, use immediately as it tends to get very gummy and unworkable if left to sit for any amount of time. There are many ways to get to the same meat-filled ball, but the easiest seemed to be the log of dough that is sliced into 12 parts, flattened, filled, sealed and formed into a ball. As for the filling, there are many different variations though allspice does appear to be the most common spiced flavouring.

The recipe makes 24 dumplings that will feed you for at least a few days since I'm pretty sure that nobody can consume more than 4-6 of them in one day and live to tell the tale.

Kroppkakor/Pork-filled Potato Dumplings
Makes: about 24 dumplings


Filling:
butter or oil
1 large onion, diced
200g (7oz) bacon
200g (7oz) good ham
1 teaspoon minced garlic
black pepper
white pepper
allspice

Dough:
1kg (2 lbs) potatoes, boiled and mashed
2 eggs, lightly beaten
4.75 dl (2 cups) plain flour
1 teaspoon white pepper
1 teaspoon salt

For the Filling: Place a little butter or olive oil in the bottom of a frying pan and sauté the onion until soft. Add bacon, ham and spices to taste. Turn down the heat and allow to simmer for about 20 minutes. Allow to cool, transfer to a deep bowl and chop finely to a paste with a hand blender. Set aside or refrigerate overnight for better flavour.

For the dumplings: Fill a deep saucepan with cold water and potatoes. Add salt. Bring to the boil, turn down heat and simmer potatoes for about 20-25 minutes. Drain and mash into a large bowl.

Allow the potatoes to cool for 10-15 minutes. Meanwhile, beat the eggs lightly and when potatoes have cooled, pour it over and stir well. Add flour and knead by hand until the dough forms a smooth ball. Use dough immediately.




Divide the dough into two parts. On a smooth surface, shape each part of the dough into a long cylinder about 12-inches/30cm long. Slice dough into 12 pieces, each 2.5cm (1") wide. Flatten each piece into a circle about 10cm (4") in diameter. Scoop about 1 tablespoon of filling into the center and proceed to seal the meat inside the dumpling by pulling the dough up in three places and pinching the three seams. Gently shape the dumpling into a ball with your palms. Place finished dumpling on a lightly greased baking tray and repeat until you have used up all of the dough.




Boil water in a deep pot and gently lower a few dumplings into the water. They are ready when they float to the surface like giant gnocchi. This takes between 5-7 minutes.




Lift them out of the water with a slotted spoon and place in a baking dish or serving platter. There is a special wooden tool in Sweden just for this task. It's called a kroppkakeslev and is a long-handled wooden spoon with five holes in the spoon to drain the dumplings. But an ordinary metal slotted spoon functions just as well.




Keep the dumplings warm in the oven until ready to serve. Repeat with all of the dumplings until they are all cooked.

Serve with melted butter and lingonberry or cranberry jam. You can also refrigerate or freeze them as well as microwave or pan fry them to reheat. They make excellent leftovers.




And I lied about no outdoor shots - this was snapped at the park on a misty Friday, with the ground covered with a glorious carpet of autumn leaves. I loved the scene, with the male duck approaching the shy looking female - it just seemed so romantic. Or maybe those drugs I'm taking for the strep throat are going to my head.

*cough cough* *gasp* *cough cough*

*cough cough* *gasp* *cough cough*

Fresh air is something that I'll never take for granted again. When we were looking for a new apartment, we had a list of "must haves" this time around. I admit we were a bit blue-eyed when we bought our first place together and hadn't fully thought everything through, especially about how it would be to live at street level on a busy main road that the local hoons used as a racetrack. The other consideration that was pushed aside was ventilation and fresh air. The apartment we had in Nynäshamn had windows all facing the same direction, so we could never escape from the noise on the street if we had them open, nor could we get decent cross draughts throughout the apartment.

This apartment is built more like a square than a rectangle, with kitchen and bathroom windows facing east to catch the morning sun and the bedroom and living room facing west to catch the afternoon rays (a good thing in Sweden, unlike Australia!) And we can now have a nce breeze through the apartment any time we want to by adjusting the windows and balcony door. I hadn't realised how much I missed that fresh air until I didn't have it anymore.

This morning, we also discovered an additional advantage - we had a tiny visitor, who we think must have landed on the kitchen window sill, peeped inside through the slightly open window and flew into the living room to pay a visit to Bruce and Sheila.




This dear little creature, sitting on my Willian Faulkner book and giving you a great close up view of the wallpaper, is a Great tit (talgoxe). And yes, we've already had all of the jokes about sitting at the kitchen window spying on all of the great tits!

I assumed it was a male because the stripe on its breast was quite wide (females have a very narrow stripe) and they are very common garden and forest birds in Sweden. They are instantly recognisable by their piercing "teacher-teacher" song, which sounds very much like a bicycle pump and is usually heard in the spring and summer. They are much more common in gardens at this time of year because there is less food now out in the woodlands and they come into town to try their luck, especially on the many birch trees we have in the garden.

He seemed a little panicky at finding himself enclosed in a room, so I lowered the venetian blinds on the big window so he wouldn't crash into it and then opened both of the balcony doors wide so he had a safe exit. He looked around for a while while my cockatiels watched in stunned silence, then he flew out of the open doors. It was a lovely wake up call.

With that as an inspiration, we decided to dress warmly and take a small trip to see the birds at Tåkern. We were there not so long ago, but this time we went to the northern area at Svälinge, very close to town. The information board showed us that there was a pathway through the forest for about a kilometer to a three storey bird tower. You could then return to the parking area by circling around through the reeds on the banks of the river to another smaller watching tower, then across the fields. This meant that we could see a mixture of environments in one visit, so we set off with my faithful companion by my side, guarding the picnic basket!




We were quite alone again, except for the cows we could hear squelching through the mud in an adjacent field and of course the birds. Many of the forest birds have already migrated to warmer lands but a few brave species stay for the harsh northern winter. It fascinates me that even tiny birds migrate so far. Swallows and thrush fly thousands and thousands of miles even though they are so small. Somehow you think that a swan or a goose is more substantial and could cover long distances, but I am in awe of the small ones who travel just as far if not further than their larger relatives.

Again, migration of birds is something new for me as it is not so much the norm in Australia, where birds often stay in an area all year round. There really is so much to learn about the natural environment in a place like Sweden which has dramatic shifts in weather conditions. One of the hardy little birds which stays is the European Green Finch (grönfinkar). You can see one or two pictured here on the forest floor - I guess it's an all-you-can-eat smörgåsbord today!




Inside the woods it was cool and dark, though the trees were not too close together, so there were shafts of sunlight. In the trees there were several different birds out catching the sun and no doubt hoping that the insects were doing the same. One such opportunist is the is the European Pied Flycatcher (svartvit flugsnappare). This little cutie is a small, flycatching bird (bet you'd have never guessed that if I hadn't told you), which is slightly smaller than a house sparrow. This little guy won't be staying here much longer as they winter in Africa.




The other lovely tiny forest bird, no bigger than the bird who joined us for breakfast, visible in the trees today was the Nuthatch (nötväckor). You can recognise these birds instantly because of their shape, being a little plump looking. This one was alone, so I don't know if it had a mate or not. Mated pairs are usually very faithful, staying together even through winter.




After a short time, we came out onto the lake area and the bird tower. Fortunately the wind was behind us, so we were well protected and able to take out our binoculars and check out which birds were on the lake today. Unfortunately we had Lambi with us as well and she was determined to eat the picnic - NOW! Do any of you remember the old Hanna-Barbera cartoon Yogi bear? Remember how totally obsessed he was with food and with stealing picnic baskets? Going out anywhere with Lambi is like going out with Yogi. I have nothing but sympathy with poor Boo-boo bear if Yogi carried on like Lambi does when she thinks we are unfairly keeping her and the picnic basket apart. I swear that I feed the dog. Just why she trembles with excitement at the sight of a packed lunch, I'll never know.

So to keep the peace and give us time to look around later on, we ate lunch. I'm sure every dog trainer on earth would be disgusted with us, but honestly who can be bothered with the constant whining and whimpering.

We saw quite a few waterbirds out on the lake, which surprised me as I thought they'd be long out of here. There were the pretty green teal ducks, with their green feathers glistening in the bright sunshine. As is the case with many duck species, the female has rather dull plumage, so this is a pair of males. I like to watch the ducks fly as they have a frantic looking flapping motion with wings that seem too short for their bodies. Ducks are considered to be fast fliers and teals are probably the fastest ducks. They're also very hardy, being one of the last species to head south in winter and one of the first to head north in spring.




There were also a large number of Northern shovelers enjoying the late October sunshine. Their very distinctive bills are similar to those of other ducks shortly after they've hatched, but as they mature the tip of the bill becomes wider until it is about twice the width of the base. They use their beaks to filter and eat small crustaceans and aquatic insects, as well as plant life.




We sat and soaked up the sunshine and peace for a while, watching the cows in the next field and looking at more of the small birds flitting through the trees and into some of the nest boxes set in the larger trees. These were at eye level for us as we were high up in the canopy on the third floor of the platform. One pair that I love to watch are the glossy dark blue black feathers of swallows. What beautiful, playful and agile birds, chasing each other and flying to and fro, unafraid of humans.




Swallows are found in areas where there is a ready and accessible supply of small insects. They are particularly fond of open pasture with access to water and quiet farm buildings, so the area around Tåkern must seem like paradise to them. Large reedbeds in autumn can also be a good place to look for pre-migration roosts. My guess is that these will soon be off to Africa as well.

We set off back to the car park, taking a different route through a rather muddy section of the woods and over to the reed beds. There were board walks on the more muddy sections, which I thought would be good for all of us. Unfortunately Lambi had other ideas and she stepped off the boardwalk and sank up to her armpits in black mud! Why didn't I carry her? We took her to the water in the river and washed off the worst of it, under extreme protest. We thought it best to go straight home and wash her properly, so Lars-Göran led the way, I followed in his tracks and the fluffy one was behind me. In the woods I saw another little talgoxe and wondered briefly if it was the same one we had seen inside this morning. they really are lovely, cheerful, energetic little birds and watching them always fills me with happiness.




I was day dreaming a bit about them and when I glanced behind me, there was no dog! Instant worry as she could have fallen into the water or the swampy ground to the side. I called Lars-Göran and we retraced our steps, calling out to her only to be greeted by silence. We passed back quite a long way and found the little rat standing beside a special cattle gate that she could not pass. Obviously she was a bit disgusted with us for washing her paws in a cold river and she had decided to follow the trail back to the car. How lucky she could not go over the stock gate or she would have hot footed it all the way and we would have wasted hours fruitlessly searching for her.

So this time I made her go between us. I was a bit cross with her, imagining the mess in the car, trying to remember if we had towels we could use to protect the upholstery and us from the muck. I know it's not her fault, but I can be illogical sometimes. Suddenly Lars-Göran stopped still, signalled for me to stop and pointed up a lone tree in the field we were crossing. It was a woodpecker!




I've never been so close to one before and we watched in fascination. It's about blackbird-sized and a striking black-and-white. It has a very distinctive bouncing flight and spends most of its time clinging to tree trunks and branches, often trying to hide on the side away from the observer. Its presence is often announced by its loud call or by its distinctive 'drumming' display. They really do peck at the wood - amazing. It certainly cheered me up and we were able to take the grotty dog home, bath her (under protest) and blow dry her to her usual white fluffiness.

Now if I could just shake this sore throat, which worryingly is getting steadily worse.

Today is a very special day at Chez Nordström. Yes, it's Lambi's birthday and she is the ripe old age of 14 today, which in dog years is .... too many years to count.

Actually, that's not really true. I looked at an online dog years calculator on the internet and according to their sums, Lambi is 69 in human years. I'm not sure how reliable this is, but it has to be less dodgy than the simple "seven human years to a dog year" caper that would put Lambi at 98 years old!

It still does not take into account the breed of the dog, which is important as we all know that many of the larger breeds mature earlier and have a shorter life expectancy. And then there are some dogs (looking very pointedly at the small white fluffball curled up on my lap) who never mature and will probably live forever. At least that's our hope.

It's been a good year for her, with the move to a new town and of course the launch of her t-shirt range! But she is still full of beans and very interested in life, so she doesn't seem like an old dog. She even learns new tricks (when it is to her advantage of course!)

We tried to make a big fuss of her at breakfast, but being a smart dog, she became suspicious of our exuberant cuddles and enthusiastic cries of "Happy Birthday!" She had her slightly worried "I'm-not-going-to-the-vet-am-I?" look on her face, so we cooled it a bit and just acted normally instead.

I have woken up today feeling the effects of a sore throat, which I'm hoping is a temporary thing as Lars-Göran thought we ought to take a trip up to the nearby town of Askersund, where we saw a lovely old café when we were there last year. We could stop for afternoon tea, was his suggestion. I looked at him and asked where the dog would be while we were in the café and he grinned and answered "In the car", which seemed a bit mean on her birthday! But he promised her that we'd bring her a bit of cake and take her for a run in the park afterwards.




Askersund is just over 50 kms away, heading northwards on highway 50. Most of our side trips have been southwards so it was a good opportunity to see this part of the lake while we still had fine weather. We had hoped to take a look around Stjärnsund manor house, but it was closed for the season, so we had to content ourselves with the cows in the fields and the magnificent avenue of trees in their autumn colours.




It was very quiet and pretty everywhere. We also enjoyed seeing it all from this angle as last time we were here we were out on the water, trying to negotiate the narrow channel past this very point. However, our plans to wander around the town on foot were soon shelved as I was starting to feel much worse, with shakes and chills. It was also zero degrees outside! That sunshine is so deceptive - you'd think it would be 20C looking at the blue skies and the ducks happily swimming in the water (how can they stand it?), but it is in fact freezing with a rather stiff wind blowing.




The town itself, as is the case in much of this region, is very old. Settlements here date back to the bronze age and was certainly around in the viking times. The name Askersund originates from the word “aeske" or “aska" meaning an ash grove. The hamlet was situated on a sound or strait that was surrounded by ash trees and therefore became known as “ash grove by the sound" and eventually Askersund.

The current town dates from the late 1700s, as on the 6th June, 1776, the whole place burnt to the ground. Ae fire started at around lunchtime in a barn. In addition, there was a stroke of bad luck in that the weather conditions were appalling with near hurricane strength winds blowing. Sadly, there was little that anyone could do to stop the voracious appetite of the fire and by the next day, the whole town, consisting mostly of wooden buildings was destroyed. It took ten years and a lot of hard work to rebuild on the site of the old Askersund.

One of the first buildings that must have been built was the one which houses Café Tutingen, located in the main square and whose sign proudly says Established in 1784. That's four years before the First Fleet landed in Botany Bay!




This was one of the cafés we wanted to try, so we parked the car in the sunshine, left the birthday girl fast asleep on her cushion on the back shelf and went inside. They have recreated the same atmosphere from the eighteenth century, with period furniture and beautiful ornaments, painting and china ware. There were a choice of table settings as well. You could even lounge on a sofa if you wanted to and there was a good distance between the tables, something that I miss in Sweden where many cafés have you practically sitting in your neighbour's lap. It was very quiet and discrete and in many ways reminded me of the quaint atmosphere of Sturekatten in Riddargatan in Stockholm - one of my very favourite cafés.




There were a tempting array of appetising food on display and it was hard to choose just what to have for a birthday afternoon tea. In the end, I chose a lovely looking pie, which resembled a classic lemon meringue pie in appearance, but was made with peaches. Absolutely delicious - and very soft and moist. We sat by the window with the afternoon sun streaming in, enjoying the view of the pocket handkerchief courtyard and a steaming cup of lemon tea. Hmmm... you can see that I look a little flushed, as the cold I've caught was worsening at a rapid rate.




We've decided that this café is worth a return visit when I'm feeling a little better. It was so relaxing and the service was brisk but very friendly. I also saw a café (Lilla Cafét) across the square in the old mayor's house that looked quite inviting as well. As did Café Gavregården, which I spotted down a side street. So much to still discover!




The building you can see across the harbour is Sofia Magdalena church. This was built between 1778-1780 to replace the 1651 wooden church that stood on the same spot. It was a victim of the fire I mentioned earlier. Gustav III's wife, Queen Sofia Magdalena, paid for most of the building, thus the name. We had hoped to look inside today, but it was closed so we admired it framed by the autumn golden leaves.




I like this pretty little town, with its charming atmosphere radiating out from the main market square and from the small shops, the cobbled streets and the herbour. But as it's so bitingly cold and I'm not feeling that flash, we have left off walking around and decided to go towards home again. On the way back we stopped over the big bridge at the sound at Hammar to look at the islands that make up this northern archipelago and we tried to see just where it was that we anchored when we were here fifteen months ago in our boat.




The suspension bridge over Stora Hammarsundet is 550 meters long. It's 22 meters over the water as well and I recall how great it felt to sail under it, though I have to admit that the view from up here across to the islands and out onto the main lake is fantastic.




We made a detour part of the way home to look at the area around Medevi brunn, which is the oldest spa in Sweden. The settlement itself looked fascinating, but was not made really for cars traffic and we really didn't want to get out and walk around today, so we have filed it away as a future excursion, possibly in the spring. We did take a small road down to the water's edge to see the lake from this point. There was a little harbour here with a pier and a small clubrooms, plus tracks leading through the woods. We got out to let Lambi have her promised runaround and watched the water come rolling in from outside of the distant reef. Obviously Lambi realised that it was far too cold to be outside as she tried to get in someone else's car when they opened the door! A great outdoors type she is not.




This must be one of the harbours that club members have mentioned to us as a good anchorage in bad weather - depending on the wind direction of course. With westerlies it would be impossible, but perhaps quite good on a calm, sunny day. Today it was just nice to be able to get back in the car and drive away and not have to worry about what the wind would do overnight. Now home to heat up some tea and honey and wrap myself (and the dog) in a warm blanket.




So it's been a nice sort of birthday for Lambi, spent draped over us, just how she likes it. Happy birthday, little one. Let's hope there are many more to come!

It's been full on with getting the boat ready for the weekend. The snowfall the other day did disappear as fast as it arrived and now there are no signs of it anywhere. The only lingering reminder is the muddy puddles underfoot, left by the melting snow. Very cold artic air will apparently spread southwards from the Arctic next week, which won't be fun, but for now we are back to more autumn temperatures.

Our boat is moored in a small, horseshoe shaped bay, surrounded by woods that make up the nature reserve of Råssnäs. It seems to be a popular relaxation area for people of all ages and I've seen that the forests are criss crossed with walking trails that are very well used. When I've wanted to take a break from cleaning up in the boat, it is but a short hop over to the nearest walking trail and a whole new perspective.




Why am I carrying that dog, I wonder? Honestly, she does walk (sometimes), it's just that Lars-Göran always seems to snap the photo when she is in my arms. Actually, I think there was another dog coming and I didn't have her leash with me, so it's easier this way. I have to say that she loves to explore the forest floor, nose to the ground, eagerly sniffing everywhere, finding disgusting things to roll in the minute my back is turned and generally romping through the leaves. Stop rolling your eyes, Justine. She does walk!

I get a childish delight by shuffling through the leaves as well, stopping every now and then at a small clearing to look through the trees and across the water. I love walking through crisp golden leaves, listening to them rustle - it's almost as good as walking in crisp, icy snow! I'm still really conscious of the ever changing leaves and the sense of winter drawing near. The colours are beautiful and it is cool, damp and very still inside the canopy of trees.




Through the clearing, I could see Fiona bobbing out at her buoy, looking a little forlorn and lonely. I feel a little wistful when I see her like this - all alone and without her mast and sails. There's almost a feeling that she's being abandoned by us. I know that's not true, but I can't help how I feel as I look at her. She brings us such adventures and joy that I feel she's a family member and am anxious to care for her and do the right thing. Perhaps it's just the season and the grey weather that is making me feel so pensive.




One bit of good news is that we sold the outboard motor to the dinghy and managed to buy a new SILENT electric motor! Yay for us. We advertised on the Swedish version of ebay (Blocket) and it sold to someone local in the first few hours. With that money, we went straight to the marina and picked up a brand new Minn Kota motor for the same price. Brilliant! We had to try it out and it was great to glide along quietly, without the smell of petrol to follow us and being able to talk to each other as we motored along.

Saturday was mostly sunny, though a little windy and we were really nervous about how this was going to go. It's the first time using this type of crane and the first time we have used a wagon for her to stand on. We hoped it would all work itself out somehow. It's also a large boat by this club's standard, so the guys operating the crane and tractor spoke with us so that we would all know how what was going to happen. We also elected to be the last boat to come up that day so that nobody had to wait around for their turn should it take longer than we all thought.




Which of course, it did. Am I surprised? The initial raise went without a hitch. I was rather surprised to see that all of the lovely red anti fouling that I painstakingly painted on the hull in April has almost worn off, leaving the black that I hate showing. I'm going to have to investigate these paints further. In Sweden, they are very strict with what kind of paint you can use on your boat and it depends on where you are located which rule applies. These very specific regulations for pleasure boats and sea-going vessels have been valid since 1998 and the paints may not contain substances like copper which are harmful to the marine environment. There are different paints for east and west coasts as well, so I have a bit of reading to do before the spring.

The boat was raised and placed on the service pier while they went off in their tractor to get our wagon. Meanwhile, Lars-Göran connected our high pressure cleaner and washed the hull.




It's a wet messy job, especially as the wind was blowing the spray back towards him. Typical!

I watched in surprise as ALL of the remaining paint bled away. I used Hempel's Mille Light (recommended for the east coast), so I wondered if I'd been too miserly with it, only putting on one thin coat. Should I use primer first? Or should I do what 90% of the east coast sailors do and order the illegal west coast paint next time? I'm anxious to be environmentally friendly, so I'll have to study exactly what the differences between the paints are. After all, watching it all bleed off the hull and into the water can't be good either! On a positive note, there was almost no barnacle growth, but then we has such a cold summer that perhaps they didn't grow anyway.




After she was clean, the boat was loaded on to the wagon. Fiona is a heavy boat and she weighed down the wagon and the wheels. I can't speak highly enough of the men who helped us all afternoon to balance her properly on the wagon (that in itself took a lot of adjustments as it's all new to us as well). They patiently raised and lowered her several times, added timber under her keel as support and even went and got a portable air compressor to pump up the wagon tyres when she was resting her almost 6 tons of weight on it. We can see that we'll need to add another set of tyres in the long term, but for now it was fine. They spent ages to make sure that everything was secure before driving her away to her winter place.

And look at the pier covered in red. It looked like a slaughterhouse!




Poor Lars-Göran was running around like an expectant father in the maternity ward waiting room. I suppose this is his baby, so to speak, so I could understand his nervousness at every creak she made. There was a minor panic when the pole for the wind generator got tangled in the crane as they were driving off, but it was quickly fixed, with no damage and we made a mental note to either remove it next time or remind them to raise the cradle of the crane to full height before we pass. See, it's not easy having the biggest boat - you are right on the boundary for everything.

While the men took the boat across to her winter place, I took the high pressure cleaner and cleaned the grubby pier. This took a while, but was much easier than if I had to do it with a scrubbing brush and a lot of elbow grease. Soon there was no sign of red paint and I could go over and see if Lars-Göran had calmed down at all. Next time, I may need to slip a chill pill into his breakfast.




And here she is in her spot until the spring. There was more work to set her on blocks and make sure that she was securely fastened there. Afterwards we went over the hull carefully, checking for any signs of the return of the dreaded osmosis (böldpest), but she looked good. We then planned out the painting which is my responsibility and we thought we ought to try and paint match the freeboard, as we need to fix a nasty scratch on the port side, caused by a huge nail sticking out of a pier on Göta Canal (they really ought to maintain them much better than they do). I'll also try and wax her as well as paint the red and off-white stripes before we cover her for winter. I think we were both glad that she was now on land, so we can work hard at maintaining her in good condition.

Then it was time to relax with a late lunch and coffee while thinking about the winter projects ahead.




First task is to order a covering frame to which we can connect tarpaulins in order to keep the rain and snow off the boat. We'll also need to buy a new colour plotter and an electric windlass, so we have decided to go up to Stockholm in early November for the Scandinavian Boat Show as most of the dealers will be there and we can ask questions and buy at a good price. It's also a good chance to drop in and visit my mother-in-law who enjoys having us to stay. And we can book a time with Lambi's vet to have her teeth cleaned. She'll be thrilled - not!

I'd say we had enough to keep us busy and out of mischief for a few weeks. Now it's off home for a celebration drink. We did it!

The first snows for the season arrived in southern Sweden overnight. How amazing - the leaves haven't fallen from the trees yet and already the snow is here. The top of the ground was frozen and it is bitingly cold. Everything seems so clear, clean and fresh.





It will all melt away in a few days as much warmer weather is forecast for the coming week or so, but I know that it won’t be long before the snow that falls won’t melt.

The sight of virgin snow has the capacity to make me feel wistful in the same way that Christmas carols do - the magic though tinged with the burden of experience, the promise dappled with a wish that the world really was that innocent. And I look forward to those still, grey winter days when the world seems wrapped in mist and you feel that any sound you make could carry to the next country.

I simply love autumn in Sweden. I love the crisp, cooler days, the colourful foliage, the smell of apple-scented air combined with the evocative presence of wood smoke, conjuring up feelings of cosy warmth and fond antipodean winter memories of being by the fire.

“For the sense of smell, almost more than any other, has the power to recall memories and it is a pity that we use it so little.” Rachel Carson, US ecologist (1907 - 1964)

The autumn this year has been a truly beautiful season. As the leaves begin to turn, the woods take on a new life, as the trees, feeling dry and tired after the long summer days, explode with a new vitality. Although winter may be just around the corner, September and early October has brought clear, bright weather and temperatures that have been surprisingly warm - by Swedish standards, anyway. It's not quite as warm as last year's 20C in late September, but nice nonetheless.




Many Swedish friends tell me that autumn is their favourite season. While the nights are beginning to draw in, there is still plenty of daylight left for evening walks and foraging expeditions in the woods. And at this time of year it is a common sight to see a Swedish family disappearing into the evening forest light carrying baskets or bags on the hunt for mushrooms and berries. We are not as adventurous, but still we want to spend as much time outside as possible before the winter sets in.

And what better place to enjoy your coffee break than out on the hills of Omberg park, overlooking Lake Vättern.




And no, that's not our dog on the table. It's either an optical illusion, a stuffed model or perhaps I photoshopped it in. I would never allow a dog to sit on the picnic table! (Are you reading this, Lambi?) It was really beautiful up here, even with the starving dog pestering me for food, food, food! There was a soft breeze which rustled the leaves on the ground and made the trees sway slowly and rhythmically. Ahead of us was a path down the steep slope towards the water, which later turned into an easy walk through the trees. We were surrounded on all sides by multi-coloured trees, their leaves brown, orange, yellow, green and red or in some cases a mixture of all five colours. This contrasted strongly against the background of green grass, eggshell blue skies and the vibrant blue of the lake, combining to create a stunning view in all directions.




From the top of the hill, there was a superb view of the surrounding countryside, a patchwork of colour stretching as far as the eye could see. There were small cottages, farms, tiny hamlets and churches visible, dotted here and there, framed by a blanket of trees and the hill. The early morning mist had burnt off, allowing the sun to illuminate the scene. As its rays hit the ground, a new life seemed to begin, with squirrels scampering up branches and even a couple of rabbits hopping through the grass in their hunt for food.




Autumn really is the ideal time to visit the forest or the parks and experience the changing of the seasons. Unlike temperate Australia where I am from, Sweden has relatively marked seasons and autumn is always a blaze of yellows, oranges and reds. The weather was near perfect with just enough chill in the air to let you know that it was autumn and inspire us to go to our favourite spot to get away from the hectic week.




We finished lunch and a walk, then continued northwards, all alone on the lakeside track, all the time watching the red squirrels skitter around in the trees and make a kamikaze dash across the road in front of us. I also saw several funny little birds, known as Sweden's parrot. They are called crossbills (korsnäbbar), a bird I'm not familiar with. What made me laugh was that they seemed to be throwing pinecones at us! They were very cheeky and very fast, so I didn't get a shot of them, but be warned little crossbills, I'm waiting to catch you. We stopped at several points to watch the cliffs which climbed steeply west to burst out of the woods onto Västra Väggar, with catch-your-breath views of the coastline that reminds me so much of south west Victoria.




I still can't get over the astonishing shades of yellows, oranges and reds adorning the tree tops. As we drove along back towards town, from the treetops came a chorus of bird song, with each bird singing a different tune. And what was especially good was that this was all you could hear apart from the wind rustling the branches of the trees. All of the songs seemed to be in harmony, all combining together to create a superb sound.




It was just the tonic we needed to revive our spirit and help us focus on the coming weekend when we bring Fiona up on land. The boat and house renovations are taking up a lot of our mental space as well as sapping our physical energy, so a trip like this, even if only for a short time is a joy.

We made our way slowly back the short distance to Vadstena, where autumn is leaving its print on the landscape as well. The church spire you see in the background is The Abbey of Vadstena (klosterkyrka), which was built under the direction of St. Birgitta and was consecrated in 1430. Today the church contains a unique collection of medieval art and is used as the parish church. But I'll visit it another day - while the sun is out, we'll take advantage of the outdoors.




We went down to the park around the castle to give Lambi a chance to check her peemail and to enjoy the peace of a park in the middle of town. As we walked, the soft grass beneath our feet was flattened, leaving a trail of footprints through the leaves. Eventually these would disappear and it would look as if no one had ever been here.




We followed this with a walk along the waterfront path, looking across the water at the crazy fishermen out trying to catch their yabbies in the freezing water. At the abbey, I turned towards home, following the ancient walls around to our street. My little white shadow following close behind in case I decided to do a Hansel and Gretel and leave a trail of breadcrumbs (that she would naturally eat and we'd never find the way home)




What a lovely, relaxing yet invigorating day. I now feel ready to attack the next stage of work, knowing I can look up at this as long as the season lasts. Autumn in these northern climates with their abundance of deciduous trees is a real spectacle. I'll leave you with a short but beautiful video illustrating Swedish autumn.

One of the few downsides of having moved to another town is that one must begin again to form connections and friendships in the new place. This has generally not worried us very much as we are not naturally hugely gregarious people who need a large circle of friends and acquaintances, preferring a more quiet life and a select few good friends.

While I've read that foreigners find Swedish people to be cold and aloof, it has generally not been my experience. Shy and a little reserved than I'm used to for sure, but nothing that can't be overcome with a little patience and understanding. And before I get a flurry of email from irate, unhappy expats, I really DO genuinely feel sorry for those of you who say they have lived in Sweden for X number of years and find that you are lonely and have no friends, or that people are cold. I'm not sure why that is as I don't consider that I do anything in particular, except try and take into consideration the sensibilities and ways of approaching friendship from the perspective of Swedes, rather than assume they will respond to the more outgoing, "in your face" Aussie style of simply bowling up and striking up a conversation. This approach seems to have worked in my old town as I have had no trouble at all finding people I could connect with and a few I consider quite good friends.

So, we will try this method again in Vadstena. It is a small town where people seem to have known each other all of their lives and I had been warned that in such places, strangers take a while to be accepted. I've begun slowly, nodding and greeting neighbours, showing an interest in the running of the apartments and of course, greeting other dog owners (a sure way to meet people!) It is starting to bear fruit as more and more people realise who I am, where I live and I've even had one or two ask me where I came from, recognising that I speak Swedish with a foreign accent. And no, I don't find that rude, they are simply curious and are usually quite impressed that I've learned to speak Swedish so well, coming as I do from the other end of the earth.

I've found a new hairdresser and she has filled me in on various happenings, on the rich cultural life and social outlets in town. She even sent me along to her daughter who works in the castle and tourist centre for more information on some of my questions. So slowly and surely, those spider web of connections are starting and I feel happy.

The major part of our social connection in Nynäshamn came from our association with the boat club. With Lars-Göran helping out with launching plus driving the crane and the tractor, most people knew who we were. There was also the white furry calling card that everyone in town knew and loved. If we needed help with anything, there were always friendly faces around to ask. We lack this at our new boat club as we only arrived a short time ago. This presented us with something of a dilemma, as we have to raise the boat and more importantly, take off the mast, which took five strong men to lift last time. "We'll just have to do it ourselves", said Lars-Göran and that statement did not fill me with happiness, I can tell you!

But first we had to empty the boat, so while the weather was good, we put the house renovations on hold. Instead, we hired a covered trailer from the local garage and drove to the boat club to fill it up with books, mattresses, electronic gear etc to take home for the winter.




If you peep carefully through the pretty autumn foilage, you can see the car by the water. The trailer is bigger than our poor little car and we managed to fill it to the brim. Where did all of this stuff come from? And more worryingly, where are we going to keep it all now?

We had driven the boat into the service pier and while we were there, a steady stream of people came and had a look. They all welcomed us to the club, asked about the boat and several of them accepted our invitation to come on board and take a look. As Fiona is a large boat at this club, we have her well equipped for long distance sailing and she flies both a Swedish and Australian flag, naturally people are a little curious about both her and us.

When it came time to demast her, this curiosity proved to be to our advantage as we had no shortage of offers to show us how the equipment worked and no shortage of helping hands to get the mast off the boat in record time!




We had six men to help us, plus a gaggle of onlookers, all quite fascinated with the size and weight of it. It is by far the heaviest mast in the club and as I rubbed my poor bruised arms, I cursed the owner who had chosen this kind of reinforced profile and then added mast steps to make it even harder to handle! Still, it's off now and it was both easier and faster than we had anticipated.




And once they had helped, they all went off to finish work on their own boats, while I tried to match person to boat so I could recall it all when we meet again. (I have a much better memory for that kind of thing).

I hate seeing a sailing without her mast. It looks so wrong, as though a vital piece of her is missing. But I guess it's because we have usually not demasted her. at the other boat club we stayed in the water all year, which is not an option here. I'll just have to be getting used to it, that's all. One very good thing about bringing it all on land is that we can fully maintain all of the bits and pieces, inspect everything and make sure that nothing is worn. Funnily enough, a shackle came loose from the top of our furlex while we demasted and I was glad that it happened then and not in strong winds with the whole sail out!

But first, the all important lunch break.




The dog knew that I'd packed lunch and while we were all busy trying to get the mast and furlex safely on land, she had been trying her level best to break into the lunch box. You'd think that I never feed her! I've never met such a food fixated animal in my life. Don't be fooled by the size and the fluffy whiteness of her - she's a great white shark in disguise. And don't be fooled by the sunshine either - as you can see from my thick, pure wool jumper, it's quite cold.

In the afternoon, we collected the wagon, wheeled the mast over to the wharf, returned the boat to her buoy and took home all of the boat's equipment. In the morning we were back bright and early, with Lars-Göran going off to make sure that our wagon was ready for next week when the boat comes up and I spent my time cleaning the mast, removing stays and loose bits and pieces (antennas, lights etc) and then carefully applied a layer of paraffin oil to protect it over winter. Once she was all bundled up, it was a matter of waiting in the sunshine with my not-so-helpful assistant while Lars-Göran rounded up the usual suspects to help us get the mast into the mast shed. Wht a beautiful place this is, even if you have to work hard, it's so lovely to stop and look around and enjoy the peace and beauty of the surroundings.




And on the weekend, it was off to Stockholm to meet up with some old friends. We met Ian and Jenny not long after I moved to Sweden. They were also from Adelaide, though we hadn't known each other back then. Jenny and I had a mutual friend who let us know that the other was there. The four of us hit it off straight away and we always enjoyed their company. They were at special events for us - birthday parties, wedding as well as coming out on a few sailing trips as Ian is a keen sailor himself. It was a very sad day for us when they relocated back to Adelaide, which we always knew they would, but which still left us with an emptiness that has not been filled. We have kept in touch, though, and when Jenny wrote that they would be in Stockholm on business for a few days, we immediately made plans to see them.




They were staying in an apartment with a lovely view over to Karlberg Palace and the canal, which kept the boys happy as they watched boats going up and down. We shared a meal and lots of talk and laughter as the time just flew by. It was so good to see them again and we found we could just pick up where we left off, as though they had never been away. I couldn't believe that it had been nearly four years since I'd seen them face to face. It was a fabulous evening full of laughter and shared experience that really made us feel relaxed and was a tonic to my soul. The truth is, a real sharing like this with a good friend is sometimes more powerful than any therapy could be.

It made me realise how thankful I am to have people in my life with whom I really connect - on a friendship, intellectual, and philosophical level. It’s fun to learn from each other, to share with each other and to explore ideas and concepts with each other. Of course, I get to do this all of the time with Lars-Göran, but I’m really thankful to have a few really good friends with whom I can always be real, genuine, and relaxed. I can’t experience that kind of connection with everyone, but when it happens - it’s incredible.

Today in Sweden, we celebrate a very important day - Cinnamon Bun Day! You really have to love a country that declares a special day day for a delicious treat. I'm not entirely convinced if this is a real day or a completely fabricated day as I suspect Tulip Day we had earlier in the year was, but I think any day is a good excuse to make a batch of delicious, traditional Swedish kanelbullar.




There is nothing quite as good as the smell of freshly baked buns in the house and these are wonderful and quite simple to prepare. Before giving the recipe, there are a couple of things to keep in mind.

One of the most common mistakes that people make when preparing the dough is that they use too much flour. Certainly, it makes the dough much easier to manage, but the buns will come out hard and quite compact. I think it's so much better to put up with a slightly sticky dough and have soft, light, fluffy buns instead.

Now, the other major mistake people make is skimping on ingredients to make them "healthy". Let's be honest here - you bake these buns to enjoy, so don't start replacing the flour with wholemeal or using light milk or being a miser with the filling - the buns need to be sweet and good.

Classic Swedish Cinnamon Buns

150g butter
500 ml milk
50g yeast
½ tsp salt
3/4 cup sugar
6 cups flour
3 tsp ground cardamon

Filling:
100g butter
2 tsp cinnamon
½ cup sugar

Topping:
1 beaten egg
pearl sugar or almond flakes

Melt the butter in a small saucepan, then add the milk and heat it until lukewarm. Crumble the yeast in a small bowl and stir in a few tablespoons of milk.

In a large mixing bowl, put in sugar, salt, cardamon and about three quarters of the flour. Add the yeast and buttery milk and mix well with either a wooden spoon or a mixer. You may need to add more flour (it's always hard to predict) but the dough ought to be soft and still a little sticky.

Cover with a clean cloth and leave to rise in a warm place for 40 minutes.

In the meantime, mix together the filling ingredients. Lay out paper patty cases on a baking sheet.

When the dough has risen, tip out onto a floured board and knead firmly. Roll out into a 12" (30 cm) square. Spread over the filling, roll up as you would a swiss roll and cut into rounds about 1 cm (½") thick.

Put each round into a paper case. Cover and allow to rise for a further 20 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 250C.

Brush with beaten egg and sprinkle over the pearl sugar or chopped almonds. Bake for around 8 minutes.

Cool on a wire rack, covered with a clean cloth. Enjoy with your morning tea or coffee!

If you want an illustrated version of this method, you can follow what I wrote in my post about the beautiful saffron buns that Lars-Göran made last Christmas.

Which reminds me - it's nearly that time again! Better add saffron to my shopping list - I like to be prepared.