hints of the midsummer's night

It's almost midnight here and there is still a hint of sunlight on the horizon. The sun's brief setting has been steadily getting later and later since I arrived in Denmark and I am told we are nearing its peak.
I feared it might really bother me and my general circadian rhythm to have the sun shine for so long and so late. I have been surprised to find the opposite is true and can actually report more energy and motivation overall. With a sun that rises somewhere near 4am I always feel as though I'm allowed to sleep in, even if I'm awake and already eating breakfast at 7am. The days' endlessness allows me to feel no sense of urgency in the evenings. It might be 10pm but there's still time for all sorts of activity. Of course, this all comes from the luxurious point of view of one who doesn't need to feel pressure to work out in the pastures or similar until all hours, but even still, there's something sort of incredible about everything in nature aligning at this moment for optimum growing and productivity. I can also share that I am able to fall asleep easily in spite of the glow that never seems to totally fade. Maybe because I have actually kept busy up until the darkest moments of the day.
Soon enough it will be the solstice and the days will slowly begin to become shorter again. For the moment, I am more fixated on the rumor I have been told about a huge bonfire and the burning of a paper witch that typically happens in conjunction with the solstice celebration. Please keep your fingers crossed for me that these Swedish farmers are festive?!

finishing touches

Things are winding down here for me. I am scheduled to head towards Sweden on Monday to see what's around the next corner on this journey. The learning process continues daily but it's likely no new major projects will passed to me or undertaken.
I put another coat of red paint on some window frames this morning and they're ready to be hung, just in time for the next round of guests. On Wednesday a new volunteer arrived; a gentle spirited Belgian the same age as me. He's extremely skilled at all sorts of useful things and very used to working on farms. We are delighted he's here and they will be in good hands here after I am gone. He and I made signs together in the shape of arrows for parking direction purposes. Another small fingerprint I'll leave here after I have gone. It's possible they'll think of me when the banisters I sanded and stained need a touch up, but maybe not. Maybe I'll be thought of for awhile as the American girl who ended up being a little more useful or at least more interested and energetic than anticipated. Or maybe we'll keep in touch and I will be back here one day.
I do know I'll think back on this place as having changed my life, at least at this phase of it. No matter what happens, it was this place that gave me peace and solitude, calmed me down after what I'd now describe to be a horrible year, showed me the beauty of the simplest things, shared with me as much knowledge as I was willing to absorb, and welcomed me into their small community and family to the extent I truly felt a small part of things, even for just a short time.
Leaving is bittersweet but the unknown is also exciting. I still have a few more days to say goodbye to my forest, my emerging seedlings, the cows, pigs, goats, chickens, horses, bugs, spiders, nettles, weeds, friends, frogs, etc....

pig posse

Just thought you'd like to meet some more of my farm buddies!

These guys and gals know really know how to have a good time. Eating. Drinking. Cavorting. Sometimes they get so worked up over chowing down on mom's leftovers that they'll get get knocked into the electric fence. But all is forgiven minutes later when they'll all decide to pile on top of each other for a spontaneous nap at some random spot middle of the field. Thirty seconds later, time to run around and squeal. Then maybe another pile up. The only small sadness at the moment is that the littlest piglets aren't so skilled at rolling around in the mud yet so their little ears and foreheads are sunburnt as of late (I feel their pain!). Otherwise it's just a constant party. And uh... by the way, the most delicious pork I have ever eaten in my life (whoops!).

these just rewards

I'm not sure I have ever appreciated a cold can of beer and a campfire as much as those that were provided to me both Saturday and Sunday nights.

This past week has been brutal. Extremely satisfying but brutal. Endless weeding and all variety of farm chore that we all rushed to get done during the sunny days while they lasted. Top it all off with a "grill party" the farmers hosted for 43 people and... words cannot easily describe the physical exhaustion.

The lovely and amazing girl who works here (Agi) and I have recently been enjoying humble rewards in the evenings together following long days in the fields and long nights in the kitchen cleaning and prepping. She and I had the brilliant plan to bike to the beach yesterday, our day off. It ended up being an all together excellent plan and the farm and all its dishes and weeds felt like a distant memory. I will note that the physical requirements of that 50km+ endeavor on a somewhat questionable bike may have been underestimated by yours truly but... only positive memories (if not sore thighs and a slight forehead sunburn) remain. We topped the journey back off with ice cold apple ciders (?) in the parking lot of a supermarket and never felt better. Upon our return, we successfully sought out deliciously cold leftovers and were treated to yet another fire and cold beers by the farmers. Truly one of the best days I've had in recent memory.

these days

WEED. EAT. SLEEP.

REPEAT.

finally, fløderboller

I was certain I would be doing us all a huge disservice if, upon finally tracking down this elusive fløderboller, I didn't take it upon myself to do some extensive taste testing. Basically, I am in love. I will miss the cows and the woods and the people of Denmark, but I may miss thy fløderboller most of all!

As its name implies in Danish, the fløderboller is a marshmallow cream ball. The cream sits atop either a thin disc of marzipan or some sort of wafer, and the whole thing is dipped in chocolate, most commonly of the dark variety. I mean, hello?! Yes, please, and thank you.
Every shop has their own signature style, and as I had the misfortune of learning in Aabenraa, the fløder' is not flawless. I couldn't even finish my very first one. But I am so pleased to have persevered. And I might continue persevering until I leave this country.

Clockwise from top left: the first taste of sweet fløderboller heaven in H.C. Andersen's childhood garden, fløder-failure in Aabenraa, the holy grail of fløder-dom: Summerbird Grand Cru!, the extremely dreamy coconut sprinkled alternative.

heifer related

UPDATE: The tit is still (at) large. She continues to elude capture but for the moment everything seems to have stabilized. Calf is ok, mom is ok, tit is ok... Or rather, seemingly not infected?

It's still a little TBD but there's a chance nature will just go right on ahead and take its course. Imagine that!

I'm told that if infection doesn't occur, the gland will simply shut down and she'll otherwise never be chosen to calve again. The plain fact of the matter is that she is nine years old and beloved by the farmers but it's most likely her last season before going to slaughter (for numerous reasons) especially after this tit drama. So in many ways it's time to just wait things out.

In other news, let me introduce you to Overeaters Semi-Anonymous. These hungry ladies got taken in recently to chill with the ornery bulls as the pasture they were grazing on has become eaten down to the point of there being nothing left. Fortunately, this weather has aided tremendously in the restoration of their field and they'll soon be free to roam again; maybe as early as tomorrow. In the meantime, grasses and greens have been gathered for them and delivered via wheel barrow at scheduled times by one of the workers. Moments after eating, they all simultaneously lay down for a nap. I kind of know the feeling.