Epilogue

 Or epiblog, I suppose.

We are home. If you cannot tell after reading this blog, let me be forthright in telling you we had a marvelous time!  Any minor complications and variations to our detailed plans simply added delightful spice to our adventure!  So take anything else I say with, uh, “a grain of salt.”  Like this one: the most miserable link to our return was the last one, in our own back yard.  The plane was late to Chicago.  Weather, fickle as it is, kept us in Chicago for a couple of hours.  Chris got my text saying the plane was late as he was pulling into MSP.  Home again.  He returned on my touchdown phone call.  Krista retrieved Chuck and Jill.  We arrived at the house around 11:30 PM (for us 8:30 AM the following day after having been awake since 6:00 AM, over 24 hours before, except for some inconsequential naps).  I am still jet lagged and consequently have been awake since 3:30 AM. No point in translating that to Swedish time now.

There are 1800 photos to sift through and so many other things we could have said or told about.  The blog is merely a stream of consciousness at the time it is written.   If you haven’t guessed, I write for myself but truly enjoy that others might read it.  The next blog I write, I will focus on feelings more than I have in this one.  We have spent some time consciously reflecting, but not enough!  Now it will be reminiscing.  I hope Jill finds a bit of time to add some more chapters too.

Far more importantly, Birdie’s dad and the only dad I have had for over 30 years, Francis Degner 93, died last night, July 2, 2011.  It is a little teleological to think he waited for us, but we were thankful he waited for us to be home.  Birdie, Jill, me, grandchildren, Chris, Carly and Gretchen, great-grandchildren Parker (with mom Jenny) and Sawyer (with dad Will), cousin Carol Smith all spent time with him by his side before he died, peacefully.  (If I missed anyone, my apologies!)  Mark's wife Debbie and the kids will be coming in for the funeral.  He had fabulous care at Ebenezer Ridges and we are deeply indebted to Gloria and the rest of the the staff.  

 I know we “lost” him a few years ago in the conscious sense, but now that he is truly gone, our lives will be different.  I miss him already.

Bye Dad.  We love you.

Ken

Ken and Birdie Olson

Chuck and Jill Jacobson

Boras and Malmo

Ake & Swede Boys

Gunnal

 

With marvelous driving weather we made our way to Boras and a fine lunch with Ake.  He kindly invited Gunnal.  We were all delighted and surprised.  She looks the same.  Now she is working for community services and had to get back to work, so lunch and the visit was too short.   Of course, Ake was at his humorous and yet self-effacing best.  Before we met him at the familiar landmark MacDonald's, I asked him what color car he had.  “It’s black, but I will be riding a bike and wearing a flowered dress.”  He added, “You won’t miss me.”  We didn’t, dress or no dress.

Look for this restaurant...

...across from this park!

The visit in Malmo was too short as well.  We checked in, dropped off the car and went to the square to wander around and people-watch.  In the square the people watching was excellent. 




 Other than on the Tour de France, I don't think I have ever seen so many bikes crowded together in one place. 

Bike, bikes, bikes

An oldie but a goodie

 And the old buildings!  I should look so good when  am 500 years old. Just across the water, I am sure Malmo's near neighbor Garrison, I mean Copenhagen gets most of the visitors, with so much to see and do.  I suppose Malmo gets a mere side trip.  I would go back simply to see the old buildings.

Swede boys

On the way to the Central Station we passed this delivery truck.  The phrase is in Swedish and means, not what you think in English (and no matter how apt you might claim), "full speed."  It's idiomatic. Idio-something anyway.  We thought our grandsons would be impressed.





It was a low key ending to an awesome trip. Well, not quite the ending, of course.  We are on the plane now.  We still have customs to negotiate, a hop to MSP, and for Birdie and me a visit to see Francis.  But even the train to Copenhagen was a small adventure.  Of course, we are easily entertained!  After our last Scandinavian breakfast we still had time to make a little trip to the information office at the Central Station where we got our train tickets and time to walk around Malmo for a bit. Finally, we schlepped our luggage to the train station and went to the platform.  A couple of hours in CPH and here we are.

How do I end the blog?  Simply seems best. 

A fun time was had by all.  Happy fortieth anniversary to Chuck and Jill, Birdie and Ken.

The Mills

Mill Race

The Mills, yes, two mills.  What we have been thinking of as “The Mill” is actually “The New Mill,” if a hundred year old mill can be called new.  It is the “new” mill because there is an older version, which was the original.  All that is left is the foundation of the house and the millpond and race.   We climbed down into the millrace to see it.  This was an excursion up the ridge several kilometers far away from the “new “ mill.  It was enlightening to know where Grandpa Carl grew up and worked before he left to come to the US in 1900.  The new owner of the property is interesting too.  He is a retired Brit school photographer who spends winters in London and summers on the mill property with his wife and three small kids.  Quite a contrast!  No phones, limited electricity and a few visitors, mostly to see the mill.  Everyone seemed quite anxious to visit.    And we did!After the old mill visit, we picnicked at a romantic spot on the lake nestled in the forest up there on the ridge.  We had china and flatware and a tablecloth.  When Runo took Ulla there to propose, he brought the food, but neglected the other finery!

The new mill in ceramic

Next, on to the “New Mill.”  For the others it was a review.  For me it was a new experience.  (Oh, they were so snooty about it too!)  Me, I was amazed and awed!  There was a little old Tomten lady named Helia there who let us tour the place.  I am quite sure she cast a spell on us to make us feel so interested in this place.  Did you know Johan supplied electricity to the town running a generator with the mill! 

Helia

 After a rest back at the house, we ate another wonderful meal, this time at Olaf and Majken’s, with Madeline and Mattias.  Their boys, 9 and 11, were off at camp.  Roger was working and his daughter Victoria was ill with strep, so she and mom stayed home.  All the more dessert for me!  But we missed them. 

Madeline works for Blum, who supplies high quality hardware for kitchen cabinets, Carly.  The have automated openers and closures, too cool!

Madeline and Mattias, minus sons.

It was sweet sorrow leaving Brandstorp!  Such fun, yet all four of us were getting quite antsy to see our grandchildren.  At least during the trip, the children have become incidental to the grandchildren.

Brandstorp

Vattern

I am looking across at Lake Vattern.  We have been here before, but it was from the lake looking at shore.  There is an island across the lake, beautifully silouetted against a blue sky, contrasting the twinkling lights in the castle there last night. It isn’t a great photo, but you get the idea.  I am sitting in Runo Davidsson’s home and just down the road is the ancestral mill. This is the land of the Warolins.  Beyond that is Runo’s older brother Olaf and his wife Majken Davidsson.  They are the sons of Anna Warolin who married a Davidsson.

We arrived at this royal place about 4:30 PM after a long but pleasant drive from Falun.  The weather has turned lovely, with crisp blue sky and sunny warmth.  

Amelia

We followed the map Runo and Ulla gave us to the letter and parked in the drive.  For a moment when we got out of the car, there was silence.  Then a little blond girl (of course she was) appeared shyly down the drive.  We learned a few minutes later that this was Amelia.  Chuck said to her, “Is this the place we are supposed to be?”  She began shaking her head in the affirmative and excitedly exclaimed, “Yes!”  Then she turned and ran back down the driveway from us squealing joyfully as she ran, “I said ‘yes’ to the Americans!”

Runo's Family

Runo appeared immediately and greeted us too.  Ulla and Runo introduced us to Ann-Sofia and her daughters Rebecca and, of course, Amelia.  Soon Susanne, Runo’s other daughter came with her husband Peter and children Michaela and Vincent.  Rounding out the dinner group were Majken and Olaf Davidsson. 

Olaf and Majken

Fortunately there were enough English speakers to keep us from staring blankly and only smiling as we shook our heads in agreement.  Ann-Sofie teaches English and lived in Wisconsin for a year as an exchange student.  Any Minnesotan can her the Wisconsin accent instantly.  (No, of course not, Silly!)  The children played, the adults visited and we all ate very well, salmon, potatoes, salad and more.  And for dessert we had delicious vanilla ice cream with jordgubbar (strawberries) and whipped cream.  Top that!

Ken

Francis Degner, Birdie's Dad

Dad is not doing well.  Just before we left, he had a bad day, then seemed to get better.  That he may have done just for our convenience.  I am sure he would have done that if he is still capable of such things.  We left with some trepidation, but knowing we have no control over what happens.

Unbeknownst to us, the nursing home, so diligent and kind to Dad, started calling Jill and Chris with condition reports nearly as soon as we left.

Francis had a visit to the ER, where they discovered he had developed canker sores, thus a specific reason for him to stop eating.  So IV fluids at the nursing home seemed to be the best approach.  His weight is going down, but we hope he will last for our goodbyes.

Birdie has shed so many tears in the last couple years and more on this trip, but with the certain knowledge that he knows how much she loves (and we all love) him.  She has been so devoted to seeing him and sometimes feeding him.  Best I can do is cut his hair and sometimes give him a good shave.  He will rest better in Salem next to Bunny and it won’t be long now.

Jill had a long-planned retreat, so Chris is in charge and visiting Grandpa with Carly and Gretchen.

Debbie is coming for the auction, July 11, so ironic to be so soon.

We thank all of you for your love and caring.

Birdie and Ken

Friday, Midsommer’s Eve

Thursday was a long drive from Stockholm to Umea.  (A Swede would know it is pronounced “oo-mee-oh” because of the mark above the 'a' that my computer can do, but the user doesn’t know how to.  Besides den, der iss no use for dat ting ven vee talk anyvay.)  But then, it is a long way.  We did not care!  We arrived with plenty of energy left to visit and talk smart.  I could only imagine the generation older htan us doing the same and us wondering what was so compelling!

The next morning, after a nice breakfast, it was off to Midsommer!  We went to a beautiful little local park where there was a little stage area by the Maypole.  Hmmm.  I don’t remember if a Maypole has a Midsommer-appropriate name. 

All the things you have imagined about Midsommer in Northern Sweden are true!  The people are all naked, dancing and cavorting around the Maypole.  It was really fun!  Oh, I see rereading that paragraph, I said “naked.”  I meant naked under their clothes.  Absolutely true!

There were two funny characters doing Swedish folk songs for the kids and some were recognizable like Itsy-Bitsy Spider (not the Little Richard version, for sure) and Hokey Pokey (renamed Honky Tonk – probably couldn’t satisfactorily translate “pokey”) and London Bridge is Falling Down (presumably the Swedes don’t care if the LB falls any more than American kids do).  Of course we sang along, just not loud enough so anyone would hear us.  Chuck and Jill made a nice Midsommer crown with the greens that had been provided for the kids.  I just pushed a little blonde haired girl down and took hers.  Was she mad!  Her dad was mad, but I yust pointed to da little voman and sed da first ting I could tink uff, “Jambo, asante sana!”  He stared at me blankly and pulled the little girl away, muttering something.  Only later did I realize I had said, “Hi. Thank you very much,” in Swahili.  But I tink he left ven bote uff da Norske Princessses stepped in.  I vass so scared, dey bote looked like Beach Angels!  He vass more scared so ran away!

We watched a group of Swedish folk dancers in regional garb.  Irene described them for us.  Heini and Irene used to do the same dancing.

Tina Koppelmen and partner Peter arrived at the celebration with Isabella.  Jonathon, 17, was off by himself, but after asserting his independence, appeared later at Mormor’s and Morfar’s house for dinner.  

We had a lunch prepared by Tina and Irene with help from Heini.  It sprinkled off and on, but we didn’t care!  We were having a great time.  We toured a lumber mill and marveled at the ingenuity.

At home, we all had a great time visiting, including the kids.  I am not sure if it ever did get dark, but it certainly wasn’t dark when we went to be after midnight.

Doors of Stockholm

One dozen of the thousands of doors we saw in Stockholm!!! JILL