Jessica Brannen.
Halifax, Nova Scotia.

Lately: Making mobiles, asking people to draw me a piano, longing to have a garden, hibernation mode, baking a disproportionate amount of biscuits, looking up words, scrawling in notebooks, chasing whippersnappers, making lists, making collages, looking at tree branches with spring waiting in their wings, 9 am Saturday morning dance class. (tooooo early)


Listening to: The Radio Dept., New Order, LCD Soundsystem, The Drums, Max Richter, Fourtet, Krakel Spektakel (kids), The Kerplunks (kids), Fem myror är fler än fyra elefanter (kids).

Reading: Natalie Goldberg- Writing Down the Bones, Emily Dickinson, Pablo Neruda, Virginia Woolf- A Room of One's Own, Tove Jansson- Trollvinter, Solveig von Shoultz- De sju dagarna.

Watching: In The Night Garden with tired kidlets at bedtime, and a little Portlandia.

Scotch tape, play doh, book pages and freshly cut grass on top ranking smells list.

Persnickety yet easy-going?
And no more naturally austere than you are naturally vicious. (Charlotte Brontë)

Middle child.

You can make me a Mexican feast and bring me cosmos or tulips.

Bookish, journal-writin' type.

Husband from Scandinavia and 2 kidlets.

Grew up in Chezzetcook on the Eastern Shore of Nova Scotia, playing on the beach and in the woods. Still spend a lot of time there. You can hear roosters.

Lived in Sweden for many years and speak Swedish. Love Sweden and Finland. Visit every year.

Hollyhocks and delphiniums.

Studied art, photo, film and textiles. Have a love of all things arts and crafty. Also gardening, sewing, and writing.

Remember rolling down the hill?

Remember picking Fool's Gold out of the road with butter knives?

Remember that time we sneaked into that white abandoned house and saw a wedding dress in the closet?

Let's go swimming in the ocean.

And go thriftin'.

I can peel carrots really fast.
I'm left handed.
I wish to find secret letters or notes hidden in old walls.
I love good old-fashioned letters.
I love quilts.
I love scraps.
I make a mean pancake.
Collective nouns are funny.

Over and out.

December 14, 2011

In every room so hushed

We celebrated Lucia Day on Tuesday morning before it got light out. Per and Astrid came parading into the bedroom where I was sleeping carrying coffee and treats. (We were supposed to eat saffron buns called lussebullar, but we hadn’t quite baked them yet…so we had Finnish Christmas stars with plum jam, and ginger cookies.) They were dressed up, Astrid as a tärna, (girl in long white dress carrying a candle) and Per as a stjärngosse (star boy wearing a tall white hat and carrying a star wand) and singing the Saint Lucia song.

This might be my favourite Swedish holiday (also celebrated in parts of Finland). When I first saw a Lucia procession in Sweden it was at the school that I worked at and took place at 8 am, when it was still pitch dark outside. To this day when I think of those kids coming walking slowly through the darkness, carrying candles and singing, I get goosebumps. There is a real beauty to this celebration of light in darkness.

As usual we watched the Lucia special on the computer, which always includes a Lucia procession and lots of singing in a different part of Sweden each year. Astrid was mesmerized, and kept saying, “They’re in Sweden. She has candles on her head.” In fact I remember seeing a picture of Saint Lucia in a book we had as kids called “Christmas around the World” and being fascinated by it.

So that was Sankta Lucia this year, and we still have the lussebullar to look forward to baking and eating!

Following is an English version of the Sankta Lucia song. It’s quite nice:

Night walks with a heavy step
Round yard and hearth,
As the sun departs from earth,
Shadows are brooding.
There in our dark house,
Walking with lit candles,
Saint Lucia, Saint Lucia!

Night walks grand, yet silent,
Now hear its gentle wings,
In every room so hushed,
Whispering like wings.
Look, at our threshold stands,
White-clad with light in her hair,
Saint Lucia, Saint Lucia!

Darkness shall take flight soon,
From earth’s valleys.
So she speaks
Wonderful words to us:
A new day will rise again
From the rosy sky…
Saint Lucia, Saint Lucia

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  1. lavieimmediate posted this