The Art of Delicate Lighting

This is the time of year when I do not expect to see the sun. Not today, not tomorrow and possibly not even till next week. I don't even notice it's absence any more, after five years I know the seasons well enough and am accustomed to the grey skies that cradle the skyline. It makes me happy that I now notice the sun when it is out and will sit gratefully in it's light with my eyes closed trying to soak up as much of the brightness as I can till the clouds once again envelope it's piercing rays. Not something to take for granted, a connection to the present and to living. At this time candles take on a new importance, they bring warmth and a dancing light to our home. I always light a few, scattered around the living room to brighten the atmosphere through out the day. I have church candles in some extra large vintage Swedish Jam Jars that sit on the tables glowing as reassuringly as a lighthouse must in the darkness.

My comfort.

Tea lights I haven't mastered, I have never found the 'right' holders for them and they sit clumsily around the edges of our rooms. My efforts to light the gingerbread houses last week resulted in a shelf topped with caramel, a rather sticky reminder of the Christmas season.

So I was completely delighted when I opened a parcel containing these beautiful porcelain tea light holders. They are made by my cousin's wife, Sarah May Rogers in her studio in England and I love them. My Mother had seen them and knowing me as she does thought that I might like them and bought them for me for Christmas. 

Once lit I thought they were so lovely I just had to take some pictures to share with iScandineighbour! 

So "thank you" to my Mum for such a special present and "thank you" to Sarah May for sharing your creativity. I will treasure them.

I really recommend keeping an eye on Sarah May's website, she updates it regularly with some incredible pieces of work. 

www.sarahmayrogers.co.uk

A Real Taste of Home

The Holiday's have begun and it is time for us to get creating as we gear up for our first Christmas at 'home' in a long time. Last week I was really excited to find a Gingerbread House cutter in one of my favourite shops called Notre Dame. A homeware, kitchen shop Notre Dame is filled to the rafters with all sorts of wonderful items that either remind me fondly of days gone by, or fill me with excitement at future projects. The subtle brown plastic cutter at 48kr was too good an opportunity to pass by and I have been waiting patiently ever since for the children to finish school so that we could try it out.

I used my new favourite Gingerbread recipe from Trine Hahnemann's, Scandinavian Christmas. Filled with the aromatic spices that we are so familiar with at this time of year, the recipe produces a very crisp, tasty biscuit that is perfect for long lasting Gingerbread houses. We doubled the recipe in the book and took it in turns to mix the enormous bowl of golden brown, clove scented dough. The house cutter is designed to be used twice for each building and in an easy rotation we soon filled the kitchen with edible architecture.

Following a Christmas tree decorating interlude we started making the caramel to hold our houses together. The tricky part was not the construction of the house but trying to avoid burning oneself with the molten sugar *. This I did not manage and the results were less refined than I had in my mind but practice will make perfect one day.

The fun part was the decorating... of course.

Each to their own, it's Christmas and I turned a blind eye to the ratio of sweets to house/mouth as they diligently glued their favourite sweets to the house's using a royal icing. The one rule was that we did our own thing and that no one should feel their house wasn't as good as, or better than another's. A brotherly rule for harmony that I try to adopt in such/most situations. This is where having the two year old decorating his own house came in handy, the four sweets that made it onto his roof in an avalanche of icing set an achievable minimum for the others to follow. Obviously being two he will forget the premature eating of all his sweets when it comes to demolition so we added a few more once he'd left the table. Brotherly Harmony Rule in action, or enlightened self interest? I can take an educated guess.

There followed a very happy hour of conversation, concentration and negotiation. In an unexpected reveal, the flag of St George was flown proudly across the roof of one of our houses. A very timely reminder of the home and family we left behind and all miss so much at this time of year. The finished houses completely represent their proud designers and look lovely sitting up on the shelf safely out of the way of the now sugar addled two year old.

........."Mama, when can we eat them"


* Mum. No grandchildren were harmed during the making of the four Gingerbread Houses. Just their mother who had to pretend that 200 degree molten sugar does not burn intensely as it settles on the fold between the thumb and forefinger. In five minute intervals. Mostly during the chimney construction stage.

Pre vintage, vintage

A couple of months ago I needed a dress. Now, I know that there are plenty of wonderful shops here in Copenhagen that I could go to to find the 'right' dress for a special occasion. I did indeed spend far longer than I ought to have traipsing round all the vintage stores. Hoping to find something unique and so inherently me that it would almost leap from it's hanger and onto my being with a grateful sigh, in doing so transport me into the pages of Vogue magazine.

But, it didn't happen. I am not entirely at one with the heady aroma that seems to settle upon vintage clothing and I find myself using an inordinate amount of anti bacterial hand cream on such trips. Yet I cannot keep myself away in the hope that I will, on occasion, find that special piece. I did indeed find a few things, another habit I need to conquer for a dress does not mean shoes, clutch or anything else but the illusive dress. I also found another dress but decency and a three child cleavage prevented me from acquiring it, although how tempting to step back a decade.

So I gave myself a challenge, make a dress for a very special night out from fabric in the house. I had some shirt fabric I had bought earlier in the year to make something for my husband and a soft grey wool that in a moment of ambition would have made a beautiful jacket, but they had lain untouched ever since reason coupled with sewing ability stepped in.

This is the result, it wasn't perfect I admit but I class myself as a beginner and hope to practice. It is the photograph I used for the background for my blog hence this post. I thought I ought to share where the image came from. The dress was the dress I wore for my hen party just prior to marrying my very own Scandinavian after a very long, eleven year (apparently Scandinavian) courtship.

I think from now on I might try to make many more of my own clothes, maybe one day they will become a vintage find for someone else in need of that especially unique special something.