Cozy Times at Casa de Hanna

I photographed my parent's Carmel Cottage in chronological order, starting when I first awoke from my erratic jet lagged slumber. The dog you see is named Holly Tamale. She likes to burrow herself under the blankets and when I wake up she is just as you see her here, laying her head on the pillow next to me and ready for her close up.

This is where I eat corn flakes and drink strong coffee. The Rooster and Hen (painted by my Grandmother many years ago) has hung in every home my Dad has lived in since I have been alive. To me the rooster represents my Father; the bold, brave, uncompromising and powerful leader of the family. He stands strong and holds up his head high, despite the existence of us hens, who always out number him and often peck at his feet. I love the placement of the painting in the breakfast room, a bright and inspiring place to start the day.

This is the window sill on the other side of the table. Kris' affinity for Mexicana is so well placed here. The bright colors and rich patterns make me feel like every day I wake up here is a celebration, and it is..The candle holders were once in my Grandparent's house and they look so right in their new home in Carmel. The little details (like this window sill) that remain from when this house was first built make it so charming and different, yet so classically Californian. 

Now let's move to the living room. Small and cozy with vaulted ceilings. A roaring fireplace on one wall and floor to ceiling windows on the other make for quite a room.

There are built in bookcases displaying family photos from several generations as well as enough interesting reading material to keep me on the couch next to the fire for hours.

As peaceful as it can be in Dad and Kris' living room there are a few welcomed distractions. Pictured above is their dog Levi that likes to play a game with the local crows in the neighborhood. He leaves a small portion of his food in his bowl outside so the crows will come try and eat it, and then he gets to chase them away. This activity is without a doubt his most favorite part of the day. Watching this ritual is more entertaining than most TV programs for sure.

My step mother Kris has wonderful taste and I don't think she knows what a great job she has done with some of the old things we have had in our family for years. Because of her talent for decorating I am able to have a really unique experience when I stay with them. I have feelings of comfort by being around some of the things we had in our house when I was growing up. They are displayed in a way that makes me able to have a fresh experience with familiar things. I am comforted but not weighed down by the memories that have surrounded them in the past. The mix of her vibrant reds and warm yellows gives these items of my past new life and importance, as we walk together as a family to a new stage in life.

This cottage is my parent's first residence they have had all to themselves. Between them they have had five children living under their roof at different times. Now that all us kids are out on our own I am so happy that my parents were able to have a fresh start. I am so lucky that when I stay with them in their new place I can still feel so at home. When I think of what home is to me I no longer think of any specific residence, instead I think of my parents who can make any house feel like home to me.

I Took a Vacation, no Apologies....

I have taken some time off from the blog as some of you might have noticed. Because I am an American with a very American work ethic my natural inclination is to apologize and come up with a great excuse to why I needed the time off, but since I am a resident of Sweden and Swedes do not apologize for taking time off I will start off by telling you how great my vacation was instead.

On a whim, my Dad decided to fly me out to California for Christmas. I spent three weeks traveling around California from welcoming host to welcoming host. I soaked up the sun, sand and sea as much as I possibly could and took some great new photos of all the old places and people who make who I am today: a true blue Californian, no matter where I rest my head.

I started my trip in Carmel, where my Dad and his wife Kris live in a charming cottage by the white sand beach. The photo above is taken of my Dad after we had a nice picnic of sourdough sandwiches and locally brewed beer. My Dad has been a commercial real estate appraiser for over 30 years in California and has spent his career specializing in coastal properties like the beach you see here.

My family has a deep history with this area. My Grandmother lived in Carmel with her artist parents in the 1930's. The white sand and the cool blue water makes this area hypnotizing to say the very least. The small town has grown, but has kept its essence. Artists still set up there easels and spend the sunny days trying to capture what you see here, pure and natural perfection.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

This is my first post in a while because my Dad at the last minute decided to fly me out to California for Christmas visit. We wanted my visit to be a surprise to all of my family so I could not post my where abouts until we had surprised as many people as possible with my arrival.
The photo you see above is taken at my Dad's house in Carmel, California right after we gave my sister here Christmas present, me.
I am so lucky to have so many people who have been so excited and surprised to see me. Since I have not been home to visit for a year things have been wonderful and hectic. A whirl wind of love,excitement sea and sand, this is a California Christmas

The Cold Path to Enlightenment

This is the path from my little house to the lake that you see in so many of my posts. It always looks beautiful but during the winter it looks like everything is covered with a layer of icing. The shape of every naked branch is highlighted and if I get up early enough I can usually be the first set of tracks made in the powder below my feet. Magical, blissful and cold as all hell.

"Jag Fixar Fika"

For six months I took a job with the city of Hassleholm. Because I am 30 years old, have over 15 years of experience in my field and a Bachelors’ degree in Communications Studies, I never could have predicted that fixing coffee in Sweden would be one of the most profound learning experiences in my lifetime.

Although I don't consider my job at the city as a resume booster, I know for a fact that I could never be as happy or as well adjusted as I am living in Sweden today without having the experience.
Even though it was not glamorous work, I found out very soon that I could find ways to make the job work "for me". Because I was in charge of putting together all the food and beverage services I learned so much about Swedish foods and how they should be served. I was forced to speak Swedish with the staff and wholesale food vendors when I made orders each week because they could not speak English. I made an effort to say "Hej!" and smile at everyone who crossed my path, whether they liked it or not.

I found intense pleasure in planning decorative arrangements for traditional Swedish "Fika food". My supervisor did not understand my obsession with making everything beautiful. He thought that I was making everything way too fancy and that I was giving a level service that was not necessary for the type of work place we were in. He would always remind me that I was not working a Bloomingdales anymore. What he did not understand was that by giving the level of service I did I was getting what I needed from the job. Whether he thought it was necessary or not my level of service was appreciated by most members of the staff. Because those members of the staff enjoyed how I was serving fika they were more apt to be patient with my horrible Swedish. Those staff members that took the time to speak Swedish or English with me while I worked helped me feel respected and more a part of Swedish culture. In exchange for me fixing a nice fika for them, they became my guides and my friends in a country where I knew nothing and no one.

After two months of having left my job I went back for a visit yesterday. It was so nice to chat with everyone and I understood much more Swedish than I ever thought was possible when I first arrived a year ago. I don't think that my former colleges will ever understand what huge contributions they have made to my assimilation to Swedish culture while they were chatting with me about everything from politics to home decor next to the coffee maker. I am not sure if I will ever think of the right way to thank them.