I said farewell to a family house up north, this early summer. It was time to do so and I feel good about it, a house shouldn't be empty too long.
Somehow the memories from this place are kept under the soles of my feet. Like how it feels to walk barefoot on sharp gravel. Or to walk on soft moss. Or the floor boards on the attic.
It's the place where I learned to pick flowers, and how to write my first letters and other important stuff. I came up with the names for new calves every summer (always sunny) and sang for the cows when they were milked because grandmother said they did so much better from listening to music and I wanted to help and do my part of the job. Horses my grandfather named himself, always Pekka (only one at the time).
No matching link, I choose
Myung Rye Kim ceramic gardens and more, because I miss clay work a while longer.
4 comments:
You are so beautifully open while writing this. Very wonderful about the soles of your feet ... the photos feel like a loving goodbye, too. :)
Bibbi it is so nice written, that I almost envy you. your nice photos remind me somehow my childhood - when I use to read ( very often) A.Lindgren´s - Children from Bullerbyn. I loved that book and i still remeber all those names.
ja, man har ju undrat vad du har haft för dig hela sommaren... vad kul att du är "tillbaka"
Glad to have you here again!
And nice to spend darkening August night looking through pictures of all kinds.
Alexandra, det har varit fullt upp att vara ledig!
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