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Archive for August, 2016


No, it’s not another kitten, don’t worry. I have my hands full with just the one, thank you very much!

Rather, it’s a little bit of my family history I’m buying into.

I’ve bought a small (12 litres) fruit press!

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The largest juice producer in Denmark, Rynkeby, was founded in the village of Rynkeby in the 1920’s. It had started a few years previously when a widow and her daughter started a little cottage industry in juicemaking and it became such a hit that they turned it into a real, industrial production. In the early 1930’s my great-grandfather bought the first set of industrial machinery (partly hand-powered, partly electric) from the factory, and ever since then my family has been meeting up during the autumn school break to make apple juice.

Funnily enough, when my great-grandfather’s farm was expropriated to make way for a huge housing estate of concrete blocks (Vollsmose), my grandfather ended up buying a farm in Rynkeby, and this is where we now meet up at my aunt and uncle’s place and make some 1,200 litres of apple juice every year. We still use that machinery to this day.

Well, I have a glut of apples in my garden – more than I could possibly eat – so I need to find uses for them. And why not make juice? I mean, I’ve done it since I was barely able to walk, so…

I have a while before the apples are ripe enough – which is great, since I need to work out how to preserve it. Back on the farm we bottle the juice, cap the bottles and pasteurise the juice so it literally keeps for years, so I’ve just ordered a small bottle-capper gadget (nothing like the sturdy ones we use to the larger-scale family operation, but it should do the trick) and a load of caps. I can do pasteurisation in the ovens (I have three) and recycle various bottles, so while it will take absolutely ages to get it done on my own, at least it’s feasible.

I’ll test it tomorrow with grapes (I have a glut of those, too), just because… I mean, a man and his newest toy =/= patience! Though the grape juice can only be frozen since the bottle-capper won’t arrive until next week… (And no… I’ve tasted enough attempts at making wine that turned out really bad! Not going down that road… But I know how to make juice!)

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A New Companion


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Internet, meet Loke! Loke, meet the internet!

Last Monday I caved and went to a cat shelter, just to have a look and get a feel for whether I wanted to get a successor to poor little Punto. Well, it felt right… So I put down a deposit for this little black kitten – 3 months – and arranged to pick him up yesterday because he needed to get his shots and be neutered before leaving the shelter.

Yesterday afternoon I brought him home to the Flâneur Garden.

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He quickly found one of Punto’s champagne corks and was playing around merrily within 15 minutes of being let out of the carrier box… He seems quite content and friendly – a very worthy heir to the legacy of Punto!

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Naming him for the Norse God of Mischief, Loke, seems to have been the right choice, as last night he twice turned off my laptop by walking across the keyboard, three times turned off my WiFi, sent one Facebook message to one of my friends and turned on the Firefox de-bugger twice… This little kitten has some MAD tech skills!

(And very little understanding that we’ll both have a much nicer time if he sits in the window next to my desk where I can pet him with my left hand, rather than when he walks across my keyboard while I try to shoo him away…)

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He’s dreadfully sweet, though… His personality is just as I hoped it would be – and once he grows up a bit I think he’ll be very good company. (I knew getting a kitten would be a bit of a handful – and he is, but in a fun way.)

To round it up: I think we’ll make a good team. Søren & Loke…

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Punto The Cat


The Flâneur Garden is in mourning these days. The little cat that car-jacked me two months ago had an accident on Monday evening while they were mowing hay down in the meadow by the lake, and around midnight he came limping into my sitting room.

One of his paws was badly injured, so I took him to the nearest 24-hour vet for an X-ray that confirmed that… Well… My little hunter was to go no more a-hunting.

He would never be as happy as a three-legged cat, so I asked the vet for a hug and then told her to go ahead. He was already sedated because of the X-ray, so he didn’t even feel the needle.

I brought Punto home with me. Around 2am we were home again, and I pulled a spare mattress into the sitting room and slept on the floor next to his little carrier box.

On Tuesday morning I took Punto for our last walk into the garden and buried him in the corner with the best view of the fields and meadows where he used to roam. Yes, I know… I’m terribly sentimental by nature.

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He came into my life by accident – but he came to matter a great deal to me. A very great deal. He was such a friendly, adorable little creature, and he completely stole my heart.

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We had two great months together. Sometimes you have to take the happiness you get and accept the grief when it is lost.

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A friend planted this white lavender in a pot in her back garden in London as a memorial to Punto. That’s really silly. Really silly, like falling for a strange cat that stows away in your car at a service station. I like it a lot. I like that my little guy managed to make ripples across the North Sea; that’s pretty well done for such a little cat.

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