At the wall!

I've been doing some treasure hunting again and dug to the day-light some pictures packed three years ago. With this beautiful spring sun it seemed like a perfect day to start.

This one will wellcome all at the hall wall.

I remember the old places at the walls of our old homes where we used to have them - now it is to find the new ones.

St. Michael, our weddign present icon and the saint of Korppoo Church.

Icon of our son by a icon maker who makes them of garn on canvas but gives away only a photo of the original work.

That here grows hepaticas was one of the first things I learnt from Korppoo. An old school picture I had became very dear to us already before moving here.

With some we have to still wait to get all the rooms ready and some perhaps need some consideration - and negotation inside the family...

Ostrobothnian humour in my native dialect... A picture by my friend, an artist Katja Paju from Karijoki. "It is there like dad on mum's back." 

Every now and then...

Every now and then we cross the bridge over to Wattkast island and village north of the main island.

During summer we fetch tomatoes and vegetables from the local green houses and in the autumn delicious apples.

This it is the fairway north of Korppoo island.

At winter-time you can see a grey heron by the salmon nets. 

The bridge is not very old, built in 2004, and before that you had to wait for the small ferry to get over.

The sign says it all...

To keep the many deer off the apple yards there must be a fence around the fields. The apple trees in their winter sleep are cut with a hard hand to concentrate on growing a good harvest - beautiful in their winter sleep.

In Wattkast there is also our favourite farm Nystu Kött where we get all the meat that we then enjoy in our table. Big cattle and Finnish sheep are grazing at the near-by meadows, the rushes and taken to the smaller islands for the summer pastures. They are keeping the old landscape open and enjoy the freedom of free graze. And the meat is fabulous, more like game in its taste.

In the middle of the village there is the may-pole and the stables where you can get riding lessons or follow the trail out in the forest. 

We often combine all this on our trip to Wattkast - it is 20 km from our place when our village Rumar is south of Korppoo and Wattkast north.

This beautiful young horse was curious about the visitors and enjoying the sunny hours out with its mother. There are little less than 30 inhabitants at the island but many summer-visitors and cabin owners - and people like us just coming to get some local groceries.

This is a link to an old tv film from the 70's about Wattkast - it was an own municipality then - that can at least be seen here in Finland, but I am not sure how it opens abroad:

http://svenska.yle.fi/arkivet/artikkelit/wattkast_i_augusti_75302.html#media=75306

The Way Home

Doesn't it just call you to take your kicksled down the hill? It is our village road down from the Rumar Mountain, locally second highest point in the archipelago, over 30 metres above the sea-level...

The mountain was one of the first places to stand up from the sea after the latest ice-age 10 000 years ago, and that's way also an early stop for the boats sailing by. The scenary reminds of the one in Lapland with its dry and low flora - for example these ancient pines that look like bonzai-trees.

A land-mark for the boat people of today is the tower used by the weathermen.

Old legends tell about ghosts, witches executed there, horses who couldn't take their sledges up the hill - nor can I cycle my bike but I don't think that depends on the spirits?

Our home village is about 10 km from the centre of the island Korppoo and the church, Kyrkbyn. There is only one other family besides us living the year around but plenty of villa owners and summer cottage people.

It is a lovely country road through forest and fields and almost daily we can see a white-tailed eagle or must brake in front of a deer or an elk...

Always when coming home I get the same feeling of relief and joy. The last curves of our village road down from Rumar Mountain and there it is, our farm and home Pellas.

What do you do first thing at home? I put the kettle on and have a nice cup of assam!

Pekka and I

My first friend was a boy called Pekka. We were the best mates at the age of four. We had the same kind of clothes and toy cars. Then my family had to move and I lost him from my life. Now I feel I have kind of found him again - the feeling I share with many others tonight.

Today we choose a new president for the next six years. In the last year's election an extreme right-wing party who call themselves true-finns won numerous new places in our parliament and I got scared and was ashamed - how could it be possible that so many Finns agreed  with their narrow-minded and racist opinions?

I was disappointed and felt alone with my views of a better life - thought even of starting a secret sister-hood of mothers who fights for the goodness and tolerance, and made my daughters bored trying to recruit them... I was just the kind of green feminist who with open-arms wants to make the world better and whom one of the true-finn parliament members had recommended to be gang-raped by foreigners allowed to enter our country.

We have two candidates left tonight - I hope it will be my Pekka. But how ever it goes the hope is awaken and many non-political ordinary people have shown their colour, and that feels  good. And if it turns really bad I still have my sister-hood, won't I..?

Here is one example of a kind of act ordinary people did to show their support. It is one of our dearest songs called Finlandia by Jean Sibelius,  composed during the years of Russian tyranny before our independence. Enjoy:

       http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jaKko3VGAnY

http://haavisto2012.fi/

Dear Fredrika,

greetings from lovely winter weather! 

I thought about you today when baking your muffins. Yes, the ones that you always baked for your dear late husband...

He loved them - and hunting, both wild game and women. And you raised the children, decorated your home - I admire the beautiful stencil painting you did - and sat beside Johan Ludvig's bed when he was paralyzed and needed company. I heard you could read from many languages aloud and translate simultaneously to Swedish. And you could write, too.

What did he do? He wrote, I must admit, beautifully. Poems about stubborn but brave Finnish people. Our national anthem Our Land. Farmer Paavo and his wife who struggled against the frost that took their harvest time after time.

So I baked to honour him, too. Tomorrow it's your day. We took a head start today...

- But mum, what shall we do the whole winter? - At least now we'll have some coffee. Tove Jansson.

When shall we bake for Tove, too?

http://www.runeberg.net/runeberginkoti/index.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tove_Jansson