Fashionable events attack her calendar, and wild boar cubs invade her backyard. TV profile, blogger, and podcaster Brita Zackari is one of few (read: the only one?) who shoulders the role of the city’s sharpest cool girl – and the countryside’s most handy farmer at the same time.
We visited the farm known from the Swedish TV show Hjälp vi har köpt en bondgård, about an hour south of Stockholm, where she lives with Kalle and the kids Glenn, Essa, and Björn. Oh, and not to forget the dogs, cats, ducks, pigs, and sheep.
If you caught her midnight snacking, it would be as a teenage boy. If you ask her about something emotional, It would be her evening beauty routine. That, and the cherry tree she planted in the middle of a pile of dirt after it spoke to her in her dreams.
We had breakfast outside the new sauna cottage, on the veranda with the secret bathtub under the maple shutter with the view of the breathtaking expanses and the ducklings’ muddy pond as a perfect backdrop. What can we say? It was our most vivid home visit in the best ways possible. Yes, we got to feed the piglets. And pet the ducklings.
Tuesday evening ends: About 11 pm, me falling asleep to the sound of Kalle’s snoring bleeding through my audiobook. If I’m lucky, unfortunately, more often than not, I will probably still be trying at this hour…
Before turning off the lights: Read some kind of book, either with my eyes or my ears.
I share the bed with: Kalle, at least one kid and maybe one of the dogs too.
On my nightstand: In the summer: a fan and so many books that there’s no space for a glass of water, but I’d really love one of those too.
My best tip for a good night’s sleep: Curtains. They used to have to be blackout ones, but I’ve recently come to prefer some light shining through to get some sense of what time of day it is. Having said that, none of our bedrooms have proper curtains yet. Two years in, it’s still some kind of makeshift blind formed by a sheet or throws. ‘Cause, we’re classy like that.
Keeps me awake: Sick kids. The mortgage rates. The cat trying to claw her way into the bedroom. The dogs barking at something unidentifiable. That’s the absolute worst, btw. I always think this is the night when they bark at something I actually have to take seriously but instead, I told them to shut the f up.
My version of counting sheep: I read until I fall asleep, and unfortunately, it doesn’t take too long, so it always takes me forever to finish a book.
My best midnight snack: Nutella on buttered toast and a glass of milk. Yes, I am a teenage boy.
I last dreamt about: Maybe not the most recent, but not long ago, I dreamt that I had formed a roundabout in our driveway, with a tree with pink blossoms in the middle, and my then pregnant friend stood by the tree and wanted to show me her baby girl. The baby turned out to be a boy (not that we know their preferred gender yet, mind you), but I planted a cherry tree in the middle of a pile of dirt and some stones this week, and it was such a genius move for the farm. It’s the first thing you see when you get here, so welcoming. Maybe some other friend will have a baby girl when the tree blooms in the spring. Message to all my close friends: make one now; there is still time.
My evening beauty routine: An exfoliating cleanser, some kind of hyaluronic acid and a night mask. I almost got emotional now. Love my evening beauty routine so much, love Maggie by Kakan cleansing balm and Woods Copenhagen Hyaluronic Acid serum and/or Daily Hydra cream and Mantle Night mask or Maggie for that too.
Favorite bedroom feature: That it A. has the softest matte green walls and B. ceiling too. Since it’s right next to our combined kitchen/living room, it had to be aggressively calm and cozy to ensure good sleep energy, and mission accomplished if I do say so myself.
Wednesday morning starts: 06.30 when I get up before everybody else.
My dos and don’ts when making the bed: I long for the day when the neatly made bed will be back in style. I can never get the bed to look messy nice, but a tight, neatly folded duvet is my jam, I excel in that shit.
Text by Josephine Blix
Photo by Mikael Lundblad