27 August 2008

Volvo issues....

I drive a Volvo. Nothing I am proud of I am afraid. You see I have Volvo issues…In Sweden we make fun of what we call the 3 V syndrome and the V stands for villa, Volvo and vovve. For you English speaking readers that probably says absolutely nothing but for a Swede…..well it says everything. Let me try and explain. Villa = terrace house, Volvo = is a Volvo of course and vovve= a doggy - or in other words – welcome to suburbia.

Not really the image I was going for. I am more of a 1970´s Corvette kind of a girl…… To be honest I would much rather live in the Batcave driving the Batmobil.

So when I bought my Volvo I bought a black one hoping it would look a bit more like the Batcar. Fat chance. So I went off and bought myself a dancing Elvis and hang him on my rear-view mirror and a bumper sticker that said “ Do I look like I give a shit”. But I still sort of hated my Volvo. Well I didn’t really hate the car, it’s a great car in fact. I just wasn’t to keen on the image it was giving me. You simply can`t be Catwoman in a Volvo!

So I decided I was going to pimp my car! We have a part of Malmö that is called Möllan. This is a melting pot of cultures - Arabic, Italian, Latin Americans, Vietnamese and Swedes living side by side. It`s a funky place and it is definitely the place to go if you want your car pimped. They have this great Arabic car dealer that’s sells lights that you mount under your car that flashes when your car stands still, and enormous sound systems that makes your feel like you are sitting inside a spin dryer and thousands and thousands of other gizmos and bling bling that makes your car look like no-one else’s. So I entered the shop ......

- Excuse me can I get my car pimped here?
- Eh, what you mean?
- Well I would like one of them flashing light kind of gizmos….. A green and purple one.
- Eh, I make your car good. Best car in the city, your car will be. Were is car?
- It’s the black Volvo right outside there.
I point him in the general direction of my car. And he goes silent.
- Hey lady are you crazy! I can`t pimp no Volvo.
- But why …..?
- I have my honour. I am good Arabic car dealer. No one pimps a Volvo.
And then he delivers the final blow by saying
- You want advice? You go buy a decent car!

So I am stuck with my Volvo looking just like a…..Volvo.

I guess it`s ....

Or I just have to hunt Batman down and marry him!

Take care

21 August 2008

Madame Cluck

Last weekend my 16 year old daughter moved out! She is going to study social science and horsemanship at a boarding school about 80 kilometers from our hometown. She has been ecstatic ever since she got the letter telling her that she got in! During the past two weeks she has slowly emptied her room and the pile of boxes and bags has grown and it was one very happy girl that finally got to put all her stuff in the car and get going.

I am ashamed to say that her mum has been ecstatic too. I am extremely proud of her daring to take such a big step at a fairly young age leaving home and go away to a place where she doesn’t know anybody and has to take care of herself. But – and her comes the ashamed part - I was also a tiny bit ecstatic over the peace and quiet that would enter into our house with only one daughter home. Having two teenage daughters constantly picking at each other can be a strain sometimes.( understatement of the year…) And further more, being met by someone that is rolling her eyes so far back in her head she can see her hair growing most of the time - well that can be a strain too.

But when the day came to drive her down to the school who got a lump in her throat? Moi! This was a whole other ballgame! Another nest and another flying lesson and this time Mother Hen was doing the jumping. My baby was leaving! This tiny little beautiful new born child with her bright eyes and dark hair was suddenly 16 and leaving! How could that happen? Who is now going to keep her safe, hug her when she is sad and listen to all her worries?

I phone her everyday! She is very happy. And I hear her giggle with her newfound friends. And she says
- yeah I miss you too mum but now I have to go.

I am happy that she is happy. But oh how I wish she was here screaming at her sister and rolling her eyes!

Madame Cluck that’s me!
Take care!
Madame Cluck
eh....sorry Jeanette I mean

16 August 2008

Flying lesson

One of the great things with living part-time on the country side is that you get to live close to nature. Very close in fact…. The bad thing is wild hogs and rats. Mutant rats with beaver size teeth. Oh well, I was to tell you about the good part. A swallow and a wagtail both decided to use our stable as a kinder garden. The wagtails nest was directly on the floor under some old branches and I could literally follow the development from egg, to hatching, to tiny little birds. The swallows where up under the roof. I didn’t see much of them only heard them constantly cry out for food. The kids ordering in every day! Not a bad life.

Although I kept a close look on the wagtails I missed when they left the nest. But the other day when I stood in the stable painting some chairs the swallows flying lesson started. The mother sat up under the roof far away from the nest making encouraging tweet tweet sounds and the tiny little swallows sat on the edge of the nest looking scared. Then the mother (how come I think it’s the mother?) flew to a beam closer to the nest and called out again. Soon one of the babies made a wobbly flight to her beam and soon the others followed. Except one. He stayed in the nest holding on for dear life! The mother tweet tweeted, the brothers and sisters tweet tweeted but nothing happened. I could almost see him fiercely shaking his head and saying “no way! “.

His brothers and sisters soon grew tired of him and started to fly about in the stable more and more confident and crying out to each other “look at me, hey look what I can do”. But the mother didn’t give up ( can you see now why I think it’s the mother?). She kept on tweet tweeting from different directions moving closer and closer to the nest. And finally when she was almost next to the nest he flew! A very wobbly flight – mayday, mayday request permission to do an emergency landing – I rushed forward – crash - down on the ground he went. And there he sat. The entire afternoon! No tweeting what so ever made him move. He just turned his back on them all looking like he was saying “ Been there, done that, didn’t like it”. When I went in for dinner he was still sitting there.

- come on! It`s fun!

- No way!

Mayday! Mayday!

The next morning when I looked out of my bedroom window I started to laugh. On the lawn a tiny little swallow came walking very erect and looking very proud. I have never seen anything like it before. And do you know what? I am sure it was my swallow turning his back on the whole flying thing altogether!

>Don`t forget to fasten your seatbelts for take off and landing folks!

>Take care


07 August 2008

Add some color into your life ….

Many years ago someone said to me that I was a colorful person. I don’t think it was due to the clothes I was wearing at the time but more because I tended to speak up for others, would eagerly debate and used to swear a lot! If you took a peek at my wardrobe back then it was mostly black. If you’ve always been on the chubby side, like me, that’s the natural color of choice since black is supposed to make you look thinner. Now that’s a big fat lie of course. It only makes you look like you work at the undertakers. Anyway. Up till a few years ago black was all I wore and then suddenly out of the blue color came in to my life. At first it was the odd scarf or two, then a blouse or a dress. And poof the undertaker had turned in to a butterfly!

Now where was I going with this…. Oh yes, I think this black goes color transformation thing is all about maturity! Come again? Well it all happened when I turned 40 and 40 + is when you get all mature right? When you discover your inner self and dare coming out of the chrysalis??? And it’s not just the clothes mind you. At 45 my heart suddenly beats faster over 70: ies print patterns, red polka dot ceramic mugs and pop art. Some of you might say that this is just the opposite of maturity. In fact it’s a huge midlife crisis. My black goes color is really a longing for those teenage days when the best you could wear was a dress from Mahjong in orange and brown! ( Yuck!)

Well I don’t now which it is but I lean towards the maturity thing. I dare a lot more now than I did say 10 years back. I don’t give a hoot about what people think about me anymore. Alright, alright that was another big fat lie. But I’m working on it okay. Just you wait until I turn 50! Then I am going to step out in the world and say
- Be afraid. Be very afraid!

Whenever I feel in doubt about the colors I tune in to Blogland and Anna, Maria or Anna Stilla. Three colorful ladies with blogs full of inspiration!

Take care

PS Yes I still speak up for others, debate and swear a lot. I just do it all dressed up in red!

A red linnen skirt I made inspired by Maria

01 August 2008


Good friends are hard to find. Is that lyrics from a song? Anyway it`s true. In my world good friends and family is what makes life a life or at least a life worth living. For me there are three categories of friends.

These are the friends that you have a good time with. You might not share your inner thoughts with them but you always share a laugh! Not the friends you would phone for help in the middle of the night though because they simply wouldn`t be there. They would be out partying! And come to think of it – so would you!

These are the friends with whom you do a great deal of soul searching. They know you well and they know your inner story. They are the ones you always turn to for good advice and whom you know will always be truthful even down to “Does my ass look big in this? “

Then there is the third category of friends. They are rare! They are 1 and 2 put together and then some. They can live near or far but you still feel their presence. Together with them you are totally at ease feeling secure, safe and loved. Between you there are sympathy, empathy, trust, loyalty, esteem and affection and together with them you can be your best or worst self and it doesn´t matter either way! These are the friends you carry closest to your heart!

In the beginning of this week I visited friends in Stockholm and it was on the plane back to Malmö that I started thinking of the three categories of friendship. The friends I visited are definitely a number 3. Big time! And they are in my thoughts always! Spending time with them has taught me the importance of “siezeing the day” and for that I am immensely grateful.

Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Being alive is the special occasion.

Live, Love and Laugh Cathy wrote in her blog. Well, amen to that!

Take care!

PS Ooops I forgot.....there is a fourth category of friends – blogfriends! With them you can do a whole lot of soul searching and laughing without even meeting in IRL.