Soderala, Sweden
Thursday – July 13
The hoe struck the earth, digging into the damp soil with heated anger. Marianne may not be a bit obnoxious, but Willoughby leaving her like that? No one deserves that, especially an Austen character.
In order to deal with the seemingly endless fields of weeds to be yanked and potatoes to be tended, I had taken to playing audiobooks from my phone. I had just finished listening to the first half of Persuasion, my favorite Jane Austen book, and decided to start Sense and Sensibility since I’d enjoyed the Ang Lee film and BBC version so much. I had no idea regency drama would make for such good gardening fodder, but it really made digging up potato mounds waaaay more bearable.
A lot of potato mounds were hoed and re-formed. It’s been interesting to see how a patch covered in weeds at first seemed hopeless, but inch by inch the way went from vaguely possible to bearable to actually beautiful. I seemed to recall some line about digging your own potatoes from some Jane Austen film somewhere, and turned up the volume on the audio. Mr. Willoughby was at the party apparently, and shiz was about to go down. I turned up the volume, turned to my hoe, and continued to dig.
Friday – July 14
I followed behind the line of the others, away from the road and into the woods. The grass was long and uncut, the wet of the verdant stalks, their lively arms reaching for my toes through my jandal straps. For some the Jesus sandals (aka jandals) are a quick way to check the mail, make breakfast, or hop on over to Walmart for eggs. For me though, it’s an essential travel item that has proven itself over all-terrain, rough and smooth. In this case, they were taking me through random-ass fields through the back pastures of Soderala. With Olle at the helm, a quick trip to ICA had Roberto, Ellie and I along for the ride. Roberto came to gather supplies for his promised grilled meal, while Ellie spearheaded their usual weekly supplies and gather new ones for our Taco Tuesday on Friday meal plans. Me? I was there to peruse the godis, and tag along to get out of the house for a bit, as well as offer my American input on the essentials for a taco dinner. If there’s anything we Americans enjoy besides a good burger and BarBQ, it’s a burrito. On the way home, Olle had mentioned something about checking the rhubarb patch for fresh stalks. A walk along a wooden path in a marsh, over a river and through some woods, and poof. The hidden rhubarb patch. I’d heard Swedes prided themselves on forest foraging, and while his mushroom patch will forever remain a guarded mystery, he gladly shared the hidden stalk spot to foreigners such as us. The stalks were so large, carrying them was akin to holding a rifle over one’s shoulder, as we marched one by one back to the car.
Ellie led the way for taco night, and lemme tell you, it was downright gorgeous. The girl has a good eye, and the colors of guac and salsa she made paired with the crema made up a lovely Mexican bandera.
Highlights:
-The power of patience. In patience I hold the key to unlock my own power. That was what I took away from listening to the audiobook of 48 Laws of Power as I laid straw around the strawberry patches. It was so good I stopped the audio so I could better pay attention and write down what affected me instead of listening to it and knowing I probably won’t remember. I heard it’s one of the most asked for and banned books of prisoners. In my opinion, banned books are books that should be all the more sought after, since that means in some form or another it is influential.
-With group input, made a list of camping supplies we would need for a campout. There was a place Olle knew up in the mountains, a place with a shelter for the night. For us, it seemed the perfect locale for a night under the stars. With inclement weather, we planned on Sunday night.
“And I could be back in time for the afternoon train,” I agreed.
Ellie darkened. “Ugh, don’t even mention that.” It was weird talking about leaving. The time from when I first walked in that weathered red door, I thought the days would go by slow as the day is long. Turns out the world spins faster than you think, and before you realize it, the full is full gone and over in a blink.
“We’ll celebrate up in the mountains,” I suggested. With the waiting blanket of the open sky, Sunday wasn’t far away, though for those hungry for adventure such as us, it couldn’t come fast enough.