Another King of Sweden, Karl IX. He was king from 1604 to 1611. The statue has been there since 1904. The humor in Göteborg quickly name it “Kopparmärra”, the copper mare but the horse is in fact a stallion. The statue weighs 6 700 kilos and is 88% copper and 12% tin. Moving in to the picture with speed is one of the characteristic trams. Stay tuned for more of this city landmark.
Quit horsing around, ha de Gött!
An old storage building by the waterfront at Kalvö. The technique for the foundation stones are not uncommon in this area. Scrap stone that didn’t split the way they should found use in the houses built. You got to be impressed by the craftsmanship to make it work. This is built directly on the flat rock so one can clearly see the foundation stones.
Even the odd can fit in, ha de Gött!
My parents-in-law has a long standing tradition of the Easter walk. Usually takes place on the Good Friday. Family and friends gather for a walk somewhere in the area to be guided by the older generation in the local history. There is no formal invitation or Facebook group. Where and when is just spread in the old fashioned way, by word of mouth. Some years 20 turn up and some years over 50.
It is a good way to socialize over generations. At the very least three generations are present but some years even five. Also the history of the area and the common people that lived here is preserved for future generations. This year we went to the natural preserve Tjurpannan, that I have blogged of before. The natural preserve was chosen this year to make sure social distance could be kept during the walk.
He shivered in the cold fog. He sat at the boat stem looking out for shallow water and rocks. More important, looking out for the police and the coast guard. His brother sat by the oars, gently lowering them in the water at each stroke. Making sure there was no sound made. They could hear the dogs barking at the Norwegian side as the customs officers patrolled the shores. Nothing was heard from the Swedish side but they knew that the police were at the lookout for them.
The cold mist was their friend, he thought. They stayed in the middle of the fjord trying to stay out of reach. The yawl was loaded up to the rail with home-burned liquor. It was to be delivered to Norway where those distilled drinks were banned since a few years. He knocked gently on the wooden rail and his brother turned around. He pointed to the shore at the faint blinking light. It was the signal. With a few oar strokes his brother steered the boat in that direction.
They could hear the thumping of a steam boat approaching fast. Now his brother picked up the speed significantly. No need to be quiet anymore. Soon they could see the strong searchlights over the water. His heart was beating hard but he stayed focused on his task. With a low voice he directed his brother to the light. At each stroke the oars where now splashing in the water. They manged to steer the boat under a large alder with branches out over the water just as the searchlight blinded his eyes.
The Scandinavian countries are part of the “liquor belt” and in the beginning of 1900’s the alcohol abuse was a major problem. In Norway liquor was forbidden between 1917 to 1926. In Sweden only a limited amount was allowed per month. This was regulated with a small book where all purchases was logged, Motbok, from 1917 all the way to 1955.
Maybe this was the place, I found yesterday, used by the moonshiners? Don’t forget to like, subscribe and please let me know with a comment if you like me to continue the story. Ha de Gött!
The wind started to pick up. He looked at the clouds. The sun was breaking through as the clouds sailed past in the sky. Yes, this was going to be a busy day. As he walked up the hill he could see them coming. The carriages with grain filled jute sacks. Some had horses but mostly oxen. Even some carrying a sack on their back. As he approached the windmill there was already a line waiting.
He put in a big portion of snuff* under his lip making him showing his brown colored front teeth. He started to give orders to the farmers waiting in line to set the smock in place. On this windmill the entire top was turned to get the wings in the perfect position to catch the wind. Once in place he anchored it down and let the sail cloth out on the wings.
Now the wind picked up even more so he let the first farmer carry the sacks in to the mill. The mill had two parallel mill wheels so he could grind two types at the same time or just make it faster. After oiling all the shafts he released the breaks and the wings slowly started to turn. Today was good wind so they had to work hard to fill the grinders with grain and replace the filled sacks with ready made flour.
The windmill of Ulseröd is just a few kilometres from my home. It was built in 1900 and was in operation until 1939. During this period new technology made it possible for the farmers to do their own milling. This together with the urbanization made the windmills obsolete.
The windmill of Ulseröd was saved from decay by Tanum Local Folklore Society and Havstenssund Community Association. A major renovation took place in 2013 to 2016. Basically a bunch 70 and 80 year old men were climbing the the wings to replace the wood, windows and paint. Find out more here (in Swedish). In my opinion, heroes saving this piece of history for the future. Well done.
*I think I need to explain as I understand the word can mean something else in English also. I refer to the special Swedish use of fine grind and wet tobacco that some put under the lip. Like chewing tobacco but it just sits there.
Hope you like, subscribe and comment. Ha de Gött!
They worked together. Two of the them swing the sledgehammer on the iron nail while the third man held the nail. He held it with two hands and turned it a quartz turn with every blow from the hammers. They took turns working the hammers and the nail. There was a special rhythm in the hammering and sometimes they busted out in chanting or even singing.
Now and then they stopped to drink and to look for cracks in the rock. When the hole was deep enough they started with the next. And so the days went on. When the holes was ready they turned to Alfred Nobels invention. The dynamite! It was gently put into the holes. Before igniting the foreman checked that nobody was in the danger zone. With his deep, but loud voice he shouted “Eld i berget” (fire in the hole), lit the fuse and gently walked away.
The foreman walked up as soon as the blast went of to see the result. All the worker followed a few steps behind. They were smoking their pipes and chat with each other. A few meters before, the foreman suddenly stopped. Raising his hands backwards as a sign to stop. The babbling stopped and everybody quickly turned around to walk away. One dynamite was not exploded! A bucket of water over the hole with the undetonated dynamite defused the situation and soon the work could be resumed.
It is not often I see these drilled hole still in the granite rock. It triggered this little story. The stonemasons work was hard and dangerous in the turn of the century twentieth century. More about this in the post Changes. Hope you like, subscribe and comment. Ha de Gött!
It was a bright sunny day, warm with a cool breeze from the sea. With a pleased smile he looked at the men helping him. His business had been good and he gotten a good reputation as blacksmith. Specially skilled in making wheels. Even with his simple farm smithy and tools he was known to get the iron wheels perfectly round. Now he could expand and build a larger forge with better tools. With all the good fishing and the stone masonry in the area requiring forged tools to operate, he saw a bright future.
The top corner stone was put into place and his friends helping him took a step back. Wiping the sweat from their foreheads while the beer bottle was passed around. There across the field he saw his young wife and the maid approaching with dinner. Yes, they could afford a maid he thought to himself with a pleased smile. His three friends grunted happily when they saw the food coming. He went to meet his lovely wife to relive her of the burden. Her belly pointing straight up. Not long before their first child would arrive.
After the stone walls were done they started on the wooden roof. The work went fast and before nighfall the red roofing tiles were in place. The furnace he would do himself during the evenings. This skill he had from growing up and working in his fathers brickyard. The area was full of them as the clay was perfect for making bricks and roofing tiles.
He placed the last tile and climbed down from the ladder, just in time for his friend to start playing the accordion. Thier bodies was tired from the hard work, but full of joy and satisfaction over what they had acomplished. Now this joy bursted out in singing and dancing, fuled by some beer and liquer. Soon the neigbours joined the party and the dancing became more civilized. He held his wife around her waist as they walked back to their small house. Halfway he stopped and turned around to look at his new workshop. The youngsters still dancing and singing outside. He kissed his wife on the cheek and said, this will make life good for us.
This story is fictional, inspired by the collapsed building in the pictures. I like to think up stories of the things I find in my naturewalks. Check out more of my stories here. Hope you like, comment and subscribe. Ha de Gött!
He took of his cap and dried the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The linnen cap was already soaking from sweat. He gazed towards the sun. Sun burning his eyes.
He called out to his son to bring him some water. His son hurried to bring him the water bottle that he handed over with his head bowed. With a trembling voice he told his father that the water was almost out. His father bent down. Held him hard around the neck and with his dark growling voice asked him; “Well why don’t run to the well and get some more”!
He took the bottle and writhed out of his fathers grip. He could feel the slap in the air behind him. With a long harang of swearword the father resumed his struggle with a large stone in the dry soil. As he placed it with the others in the stonewall he looked at it. This would help keeping the neighbors sheep in their place. But the poor soil in the field he was clearing would not feed many mouths.
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