Age is not a number

My neighbour is 98 years old. His mind is clear, perfect eyesight and he still cycles around to the shops or down to his boat in the harbour. Sometimes I’ll see him up on his roof adjusting the tv antenna or on a ladder cutting his trees. Then I never dare say hello, in case he would fall down. He did actually fall many years ago, from the roof(he’s a tin-smith) in to a flower bed and broke some ribs. Every now and then I go over for a glass of wine and some great stories. This evening we were a bit slow starting conversation but then he brought out his photo albums. Can’t believe I’ve never thought to ask him before! So many great pictures from the island but also from north of Sweden where he did his military duty. I sometimes joke that it’s age playing up when I can’t remember where I put my keys but this guy, he remembers all the names of everyone in his class when he was 10 and their parents names and where they were born. He claims the key to old age is never trust doctors or lawyers and eat a lot of fatty fish.

Chicken update

Well now our “little” chicks are about 2 months old and they have grown so much! We sadly lost two of them the first week we let them out, a neighbour cat that wasn’t scared of anything but after chucking a bowl of cold water over him the others have been left alone. I hope it is one cockerel and the rest hens but you never know how it turns out. The little black Ayam cemani chick is everyones favourite. She was a runt from the beginning and I didn’t think she would survive but she/he is shaping up. Her name is Lilja/Lilly and she is gorgeous but really stupid. She keeps getting lost from the others and spend most of her days desperately calling out to the other chicks, even if they are just around the corner. There is one sure cockerel. Tiger, the orange one, I thought of as cockerel but now I’m not so sure because they are different breeds that we haven’t had before. The two older ones that hatched in May, Bert and Betty, are pretty much surely hens. Bert looks like a cockerel but after asking on Fb everyone said he is a hen, a Maran. The only two I’m sure about are Gullan, the white chick (named after my grandmother) and Scilla a Maran hen. They have been so spoilt that every evening now they come up to the door next to our living room squeezing for food and even trying to jump up on the window sill. One thing for sure, if Lilly turns out to be a cockerel the whole family will be heartbroken. On the more positive side if she turns out to be a he we can probably sell him on because it is such a rare breed. The other evening I had a great photo session with them. Started out with my mobile but ended up bringing my proper camera and shot 2 rolls of film in 15 minutes. Tomorrow I will develop the films and hopefully soon have real pictures to post!

The old days

The Heritage cottage(or however it translates) had an open house so I paid a visit. It’s a collection of very old houses kept like a museum. One part is for tools, barn equipment, an old classroom, a grocery shop and a lot more. Sadly they are having trouble finding people to help look after it but I think it is so valuable to carry it on for the future. All the small buildings are very low to the ceiling, I’m not that tall but bumped my head at least once. Luckily my son who is almost 2m tall wasn’t born in that age! You really get a feeling of how it was living in that age of time, what clothes they wore, how they slept and did their cooking etc. Such a lovely place, I will definitely try to help out in any way I can in future. They have courses in how to bake proper Hönökaka and sometimes have open house. They have some frames with hair art, this is something I had never heard about until a couple of years ago watching the antiques show on telly. It’s such a weird thing but I’ve understood that it was quite common in the days, a bit freaky I must say. But it took a lot of willpower not to bring the lovely old school poster of chickens back home…