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Look at this delicate fragile female flower, a quivering antenna registering the weather, folding herself together if she senses drought, hail og muddy boots approaching. Want to predict the weather; look to her, her senses so sharp.
Every evening she folds herself together to sleep only to unfold just as steadily the day thereafter.

There is stubbornness in that fragility… and strength in the way she ensures the well-being of her offspring; she shoots the seeds off, several meters away from herself, “Go children, go, find a better place” only the better place is neither sunny nor rich, the better place is shady, hidden and quiet.
She dresses in heart-shaped leafs and you can see her veins through the ghostly white of her skin.

My boy call her “fairy flower” but you probably know her as wood sorrel. Wood sorrel is blooming right now.

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Tomorrow my twins turn 20 so I´m…. sad (I´m always sad)
BUT… for all the trauma, the drama, the loss and the wrong: just look at them. They did all right. I did all right. It´s allright.
It´s just a funny feeling (sad) to evaluate 20 years like that. I fold.

But then I unfold.

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Fold. Unfold. Registering. Tune in. Grow on tough spots.

I´m really tired these days. Jeppe is in Copenhagen recording the album, I´m alone with the kid and all of the heavy lifting (firewood, water from the well, gardening). I´ve been making nettle pesto all day and couldn´t muster making dinner- so we head for the woods, lucky us.

Scouting for wood sorrel

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Picking the delicate flowers

 

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Since Denmark is such a farmland (and Sweden is not) I sometimes miss the dishes of my homeland; “Koldskål” being one of my favorite spring dishes. Essentially made of eggnog and buttermilk this is also a real easy dinner option (although to be fair you could argue if it´s a meal or a desert)

Our hens are producing a minimum of 10 eggs a day which makes this dish extra attractive (too)

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So you whisk together eggs, vanilla and sugar (there´s too much vanilla in this picture but it´s because Sigurd was too quick for me). Beat it!

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Then add the buttermilk (which they don´t seem to have here so I use some kind of thin flavorless, obviously, yoghurt)

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I like the fact that the main efforts making this dish is captured in this one single image.

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Then add the flowers of wood sorrel (and a couple of the heart shaped leafs, the green, Oh! The green!)

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Marvel at that wonder!

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Setting the table for two feels funny…

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… but then again I´m the kind of woman who hunts and gathers for food, I´m eating flowers all day long and if I wanted to I could instagram the fuck of that shit but I won´t and that the kind of happy I am.

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(this post being a part of my exploration into communicating the more pretty and happy moments of life out here (which I have been reluctant to do)

(ps. Wood sorrel has a cooling effect (good for fever), it strengthens a weak stomach and lessens nauseau, ha!)

27 comments on “Eating flowers

  1. So lovely! I’m growing edible flowers in my garden. I’m so excited to experiment with them.

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  2. Ih, hvor er det altså delikat med de fine blomster og blade!

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  3. Tori says:

    I love that you’re making an effort to put out positive posts. As I see it, life is both beautiful and ugly. Sad and happy. So it’s important to show both.

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    1. Thanks! And true. I know there has been an imbalance, I´ve just been THINKING so much about stuff during these last four years in the woods… been eating flowers all day long, just sitting here, eating flowers, but for some reasson communicating those awesome rich moments have been more difficult than communicating all of the thoughts and all of the abstract…. life, down to earth, is not simple you know, it´s HARD to describe 😉

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      1. Tori says:

        Yes, sometimes life is indescribable. It can be frustrating, but at the same time, I like that. Sometimes we can just BE, and not have to analyze the moment.

        Like

  4. Tricia says:

    Wow, I never would have thought to eat raw egg/vanilla/sugar/buttermilk! So interesting to see how differently people eat! I thought you were going to cook that at some point:} So it must be like a soup then….almost like an uncooked custard. Learning is never boring:} Hope your honey is able to come home soon….

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    1. Yeah, it´s kind of cold soup.
      “Koldskål” (the name of the dish) litterarly means “Cold Bowl”. You eat it with small cakes on top escpecially baked for that occasion and never eaten on anything else but on “Koldskål”

      I know eating raw eggs is not for everyone but this is a traditional danish dish (oh, memories), I think people have been eating it for at least 500 years (meaning before the seperated eggwhites and egg yolks occured in the supermarkets 😉

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      1. Tricia says:

        I don’t mind raw eggs so much…but yes, here in the land of ‘fear’, many people are scared to do it. Plus most of us have no idea of where the eggs came from, so that’s probably why too. Everyone is afraid here…kids here even wear helmets just to ride a bike. Ridiculous! We aren’t allowed to have chickens (city rules), but belong to an egg co-op, which I am not afraid to eat the eggs raw. Now I am craving egg nog:}

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  5. Eumaeus says:

    if I wanted to I could instagram the fuck out my life as well but I don’t
    by any account i’m wordpressed pretty fucking thin as it is
    awe shit, what are you supposed to say here anyway? Nothing?
    I’ll never learn.
    But once I tried.

    Like

    1. Trying is good. I like trying. I´m trying a lot.

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  6. BeeHappee says:

    Eating raw store bought eggs would put most people in horror and rightly so, my friend was gravely ill with salmonella from just licking her fingers while making a cake. But we used to eat our farm eggs raw all the time beaten with sugar and that was a popular concoction for kids and we called it “gogol mogol” 🙂 and raw egg is super healthy for you.

    I laughed at the intagram line also. 🙂
    Well thanks for trying Andrea. 🙂

    Like

  7. Mary says:

    Andrea, thank you for sharing ALL that you think and feel, the good and the bad…it’s real. I am homesteading now 4 years, and I think incessantly about all these things, while doing quiet solitary work of planting seeds, cultivating spaces, picking greens. to live so close to the earth is to know the promise of rebirth but also the inexorable inevitable experience of death…cyclically, regularly, unrelentingly. and to sink our hands into her soil is to feel the gift of her lifegivingness as well as the deep hurts, sadnesses and pain of our dear mother earth. all the while, friends and family envy in their minds that we are living the good life, and don’t understand any of what you speak, of what we live. they can’t. and only a wee bit when they hear your words, my words, but if/when they to slow down, sit, close their eyes, kneel on the ground, and listen…they will hear the simple tangled magical messy scary liberating seemingly contradictory but perfectly aligned truth of it all for themselves. another poem for you:

    SELF-PORTRAIT by David White

    It doesn’t interest me if there is one God
    or many gods.
    I want to know if you belong or feel
    abandoned,
    if you can know despair or can see it in others.
    I want to know
    if you are prepared to live in the world
    with its harsh need
    to change you. If you can look back
    with firm eyes,
    saying this is where I stand. I want to know
    if you know
    how to melt into that fierce heat of living,
    falling toward
    the center of your longing. I want to know
    if you are willing
    to live, day by day, with the consequence of love
    and the bitter
    unwanted passion of your sure defeat.

    I have heard, in that fierce embrace, even
    the gods speak of God.

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    1. That is a great poem, Mary. It reminds me of God Speaks by Rainer Maria Rilke. A little bit. But it’s different. Then your own words remind me of a thought I have now and then and I’ll speak it out loud at risk of being labeled a crackpot.

      You said:”to live so close to the earth is to know the promise of rebirth but also the inexorable inevitable experience of death…cyclically, regularly, unrelentingly. and to sink our hands into her soil is to feel the gift of her lifegivingness as well as the deep hurts, sadnesses and pain of our dear mother earth”.

      I’ve had the thought that this is a planet of death. When I look at the earth, the soil, I see that it is made of decayed things. Things that died. It sounds morbid. But those things that died now give life. They blended with microbes and such and now they’re something else. Life grows in the death. This is an utterly simplistic way of looking at it, I know. So it’s a planet of life and of death. It’s all intertwined together. One stands next to the other. But death and life are just words. Every system of thought has a word for these concepts. Rajas, Tamas, Satva come to mind. It’s what we do or think or feel when we hold these concepts in our minds that’s significant. It’s how we exercise our choice.

      Or not.

      Stand far back in the corner of the galaxy and see how significant we are then.

      I’m going to let this stand and I hope you all won’t think Oh Renee she just went off the deep end!

      Like

      1. I love this post of yours reneee and the image of the dead earth. This will stay with me. Beautyful!

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    2. Oh, Mary. Goosbumbs!

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      1. Thank you for providing a forum where I can say some things that cross my mind. You help me be emboldened!

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        1. I´m only happy you all share your thoughts here- makes me feel less lonely 🙂 And it´s really a nice image (with the dead earth)

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  8. Eumaeus says:

    “Don’t your kitchen feel lonesome
    When your biscuit roller gone”
    – Vera Hall, Black Woman

    Like

    1. BeeHappee says:

      That’s awesome, E!! how do you know all this stuff. Checking out her songs, NICE..Biscuit roller 🙂 Russian women beat up drunk husbands with the dough rollers..

      Like

    2. Lovely qoute E. I find it amazing how much so few words can say. It´s the power of words, really.

      Like

  9. Bill says:

    I like thinking of wood sorrel flowers as “fairy flowers.” Henceforth, here that is what they shall be.

    Like

  10. BeeHappee says:

    NC, if you are reading, I checked out “Homegrown Tea” by Cassie Liversidge at the library, and it is such a nice book, enjoy browsing through tea types, history and tips. Thanks for the recommend!

    Like

    1. ncfarmchick says:

      So glad you are finding it enjoyable! I have especially appreciated learning that so many of the plants she discusses are loved by bees. So, tea for me and “flower juice” (as my boys call it) for the bees. Love it.

      Like

  11. ncfarmchick says:

    I think Sigurd is exactly right. It is a fairy flower. Does he build fairy houses in the forest? My boys have a “troll house” they made from fallen branches over the course of last summer. Their Oldemor was quite impressed when she visited and they proudly showed it off to her.

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    1. Yup, he builds lots of forts, we have a collection of giant rocks not far from here, we call them the troll fort 😉
      I love that you call her “oldemor”!

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      1. ncfarmchick says:

        Absolutely! And my mother is Mormor to them. Can’t let that heritage be forgotten.:)

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