WordPress has reminded me of the post I wrote four years ago, when Italian family came back to Australia for an extended visit. Zia (Aunty) Emma, then 97, died last year one month short of her 100th birthday. Her baby sister, who turns 88 in a couple of weeks, was admitted to aged care early this year. I saw her last week, and she seemed cheerful and well settled. As a bonus, she has a ground floor room with a little patio on which she keeps plants, as well as tending to a small flower bed in the common garden.
Little changes that emphasise the need to “seize the day” while we still can.
Life on a dairy farm is hard work, but there are bright spots. Did you get to experience the run of the cows when they are released after winter? Such a happy event. I have a close friend in Jylland, who grew up in Fyn, so have visited many times. The most idyllic fairytale villages can be found there. Thanks for triggering some wonderful memories for me.
They worked exceedingly hard. Mostly I would visit in late spring. The first flush of grass was allowed to grow while the cows were still in the shed. Then we had to pick up rocks that had been pushed up by contraction and expansion during the thaw. That first grass was mowed for sileage. Then, after the second growth, the cows would be released (they had around 30). It was funny to watch them pick friends and shun others. Because they’d been back-to-back in the shed and only knew their neighbours. Did I explain that correctly? There would be two rows of cows, front into the feeding manger, and back ends facing the gutter running down the centre of the shed. Just cleaning that gutter three times a day was hard work, let alone the milking, feeding, and calf rearing (but not the poor little boys – who went to a “special” paddock near to the road, for pick up by a “certain” truck). Gosh! This is turning into a short story with tragic elements.
I loved the dairying short story! I know about the winter barns as I have visited some in Austria. I was most surprised by the need to remove rocks. It makes sense but I was still surprised it happened.
I was a city-bred young woman just going along with how things happened. The idea of the rocks took me aback also. I often wonder what it looks like in Iceland? You would probably be familiar with farmhouse as well – a traditional U-shape. The kitchen was being painted on one visit and when I suggested a non-traditional colour my friend looked at me as if I had two heads.
Oh yes, tradition is very important to Danish folk and being quarter Danish, I can relate. Notwegians are even more strict about honouring tradition.
Iceland- I have also spent time there. Farming in Iceland is like living on the very edge of possible human habitation. Grinding poverty in years past. And the earth is alive beneath your feet. The rift valley which tears Iceland apart also creates new ground each year. I was warned not to go off trail walking in the snow there, as people frequently slip down hidden crevasses in the lava fields that are unseen beneath the snow and are never to be seen again. My friend was a very capable driver, but even she baulked at travelling some roads and mountain passes. It was a fabulous experience but as an Aussie, there were dangers living there.
Extended family reunions can be lots of fun. In 2014, I was able to join together five branches of my Danish family, over three continents, that had been separated by the oceans for over 140 years! Such a thrill.
Btw, Gwen, I wanted to let you know I am so enjoying reading Louisa. The style and voice feels so historically authentic and I am really enjoying your use of language. Well done.
Unfortunately, it may be some time before I can write a formal review as I have some health issues atm, so please be patient.
Hi Amanda. Just caught up with this comment, and am aware you’ve since written a review – THANK YOU SO MUCH. You know how we authors value them.
I have been to Denmark, four times, I think (at least 3). I had a friend with a dairy farm on Fyn and would visit for a week or two each time. She and her husband had the largest farm in the cooperative at the time. You couldn’t run like that now – everything has to be the large conglomerates, or it is not financially viable.
Her grandchildren have gone on to senior positions: one in agriculture and one in reproductive health. They had good role models.
What a wonderful reunion and such lovely memories Gwen.
It really was wonderful to all come together. 🙂