Monday, 25 August 2014


Earlier this summer, my mamma, pappa, grandma, and I all took a boat trip out into Stockholm's archipelago. It was one of the hottest days of the summer.

Vaxholm, from whence all fairies ferries leave

People pass us by in the harbour.

Keeping a weather eye on the horizon

The map

Chillin' on the boat


This was taken at the beginning of summer.

In need of haircut. I'll let you know what happens.

Saturday, 23 August 2014

Wild Child

Mamma insists she went on a "wild shopping spree" today. She bought pillows. The rebel.

Cropped Jacket

This jacket is vintage Laura Ashley, manufactured before Hong Kong declared its independence of the British Crown.

Today I had to go to town and buy a few necessary items for my upcoming move to England. Mamma and I had to first drive to Yttersjö to deliver a mailbox back to the previous owners of our house, and the road there took us through rolling fields and silver lakes. The summer has suddenly disappeared into bright, brisk autumn days. 

Monday, 18 August 2014

Evening Sun

This summer has been absolutely marvelous, bright and sweet and with air so warm you could drink it.


Min Älskade Rolls Royce

My grandmother loves her car. She owns a tiny, red Fiat Panda, manufactured in 1984, a model known for "absolutely nothing," according to my mother, who also thinks it looks like a plastic berry picker. My grandmother, however, sees none of that and keeps a folder concerning the details of its make, model, and reparations, titled 'My Beloved Rolls-Royce.' Sometimes it's all about perspective.

Saturday, 16 August 2014

O Ambition! Where Shall I Put Thee?

My ambitions overflow at night
inopportune times

A Dash of Colour

Colour, colour, and more colour. That is advice I give freely.
Why dress like a boring person when you're not?


Some of you may already know that I have Instagram. I find it really handy to just take pictures on the go, because I'm usually...well, on the go. Recently I've tended to update it more often than my blog, which is something I aim to remedy. If you would like to follow me, my username is thefaerytale.

Tea from JeHo, my student 

Smoke Break, Singapore 

Lovely Rachel in vintage Laura Ashley 

My pops making good use of the IKEA push carts 

Bukit Timah jungle, Singapore 

My minion at work on his novel

More minions 

Da Debster and Ms. Shangarang 

I like to call this one "Photobomb"

The Porch

Lunch on grandma's porch ain't all bad.

The Vase

     I have spent a great deal of time in the garden this summer, hacking and chopping and sawing down branches and brambles in an effort to tame the wilderness. The previous owners did nothing to tend their garden and the poor raspberry bushes are tangled into each other and the strawberry patch is choked by weeds. I have found a few glass bottles and some bricks--nothing very exciting--until one day, when I was clearing some dead branches out of the hedge, I found this glass vase in the dirt. How did it get there? How long has it been forgotten? Does it matter now that is has found its purpose again? For all things shall be made new. 

Ernst Kirschteiger Dass

     In the still cold month of June, we visited my uncle's little grey house by the sea. He had recently renovated their outhouse and wanted to show us the result. Outhouse in Swedish is known as 'dass' which was taken from the German 'das haus,' literally 'the house.' Das haus' was too long to say, and it was soon shortened to just dass. Outhouses were often communal with several holes for several people, where they could sit and do their business and share the latest gossip. Dass was also known as 'hemlighus,' or 'house of secrets,' because what is more private than the loo to share your secrets?

My uncle explains. His daughter listens in admiration.

There is no better place to rest your bum than here. Enjoy the view.

Perhaps some Donald Duck to pass the time?

Ernst Kirschteiger would be proud.