Slide Show from Yorkshire, 1972

Among the old slides that I recently let a photography shop digitise for me were a few from my stay with an English family in Yorkshire in 1972, from mid June and into July. 

These photos are not included in my photo album from that trip, and I don't think I took any slides myself back then. So I think these must have been sent to me afterwards, from the family I was staying with.

Back in my very first year of blogging (2009, my blog then entitled The Island of the Voices) I blogged more extensively about this trip in a post which you can read here. 

Starting with a quote from that old blog post as introduction:

After my first year in 'senior high school', 16 going on 17, my parents apparently thought me mature enough to go off out into the world alone. They sent me on a sort of educational holiday to England, to stay for four weeks with a family in a small village [Wadworth] near Doncaster in Yorkshire.  This was not a family we knew beforehand. It was organized rather like an exchange student program, except that there was no "exchange". The family I went to stay with had a girl about my age – she was in the 5th form in a Comprehensive School. I visited her school with her, but she did not go back to Sweden with me. 

Mr A., if I memory serves me right, worked in the coal mines, or at least in some way for the coal mining company. Mrs A. worked part time at the local pub.  

This photo of me I think must be from somehwere on the outskirts of the village. 

Me and Lynne, the daughter of around my own age in the family I was staying with. Most weekdays I also went to school with her (in Edlington). 

Her little brother, Lyndon, whose room became mine for a few weeks while he had to move in with his mum and dad.

Mrs A. and "auntie Lizzie" in the living room.

A first attempt to identify this image with help of Google Image search told me that it was from some place down in Kent. As we definitely did not go to Kent, I tried again, and was then told it's Bridlington, in Yorkshire. That suggestion I'll accept, as it's a Yorkshire seaside town that we did visit. I think this must have been on a day when Lynne had exams in school - which explains both why she was not with us, and why I was not in school... 

The photo below is also from Bridlington. The elderly couple are "Uncle Jack" and "Auntie Lizzie". I had to go back to an old letter to recall details, but they were relatives visiting from Canada and staying with Mrs A's parents; and they accompanied us on more outings.

On another day, we went to York. I did not have to ask Google to identify the chathedral! This was probably a weekend visit, as Lynne was with us.

 

Here were are at an old abbey ruin. As there are several of those in Yorkshire, I consulted Google Image search again - and got a prompt answer that it's St Mary's Abbey Ruins in the York Museum Gardens. As we did go to York, that makes sense - and also helped me identify the next photo as being taken at the entrance to the Yorkshire Museum.

 

 

On another occasion, we visited the seaside town of Cleethorpes, which must be where this photo was taken. 

 

Linking to Sepia Saturday 818 

Window Ornaments

 

Today the February Sun drew my attention to another kind of "bling". I have two window ornaments made of horseshoe nails and glass. One (above) hangs in my study, and the other (below) in my bedroom. (Not easy to tell from the photos, but the one below is smaller, only about 1/3 of the size of the one above.)

I've been racking my brain to remember their history, but the details aren't really clear in my my memory any more. I think that both may have been bought on some family holiday trip in the south of Sweden in my early teens or so - and that orginally, one was kept by us/me while the other was given to my p. grandmother. One reason why the details are blurred in my memory now is probably that later on, my parents moved to live in my dad's childhood home - and I seem to have memories of both ornaments from different windows over time. The only thing I'm sure about now is that at least since 2014, they have both been residing with me! 

Faux Bling

 

The sun happened to shine on my "fake" jewellery on display on the side of a bookcase next to my wardrobes, and tempted me to snap a couple of photos. 

The word that first sprang to mind for me was "bling". But when checking up on it, "bling" seems to actually denote "expensive, ostentatious clothing and jewellery" - rather than cheap imitations that never in their life pretended to be anything else but just that...

I searched on, and found some more definitions:

• Costume Jewelry / Fashion Jewelry: The standard terms for items designed to complement outfits rather than serve as investment pieces.
• Trinkets: Small, inexpensive jewelry items or baubles.
• Faux Jewelry: Jewelry that mimics real, high-end pieces.
• Junk Jewelry: A derogatory term for very low-quality items.
• Base Metal Jewelry: Jewelry made from metals like brass, copper, or aluminum.

I give up. The items on display above are probably a mix of all that - unless perhaps some of them are so old now that they've become some sort of faux antiques? They're all made of materials like wood, glass beads, ceramics, leather and base metals, though... (The few pieces I have of possibly somewhat higher value are not hanging out on daily display.)

I wear very little jewellery at all except on special occasions - and special occasions these days are becoming rather rare! I look at these items every now and then and think that I should give most of them away to some charity shop, as I so rarely use them. The main reason that they're still hanging where they're hanging, though, is that a lot of them are still associated with memories. (And they aren't really in the way either...)

Black, White and Sepia

 

The sun went into hiding again on Tuesday, and after my excursion to the city centre on Monday, "me and my knee" were quite content to mostly just stay in and rest again. (Just a few extra steps outdoors in connection with taking out some rubbish to the bins.) Today, still grey, just below freezing point and with some extra wind-chill; but the streets dry and mostly free of snow and ice. After lunch I persuaded myself to go for a short walk over to the old cemetery and check out the conditions there.The major paths turned out clear of snow, and dry - but snow still lingering on graves and grass and minor paths. I snapped the four photos above to show you. I kept to the ice-free paths, and 20-25 minutes felt enough. 

Last week, I wrote a post about my impressions of the latest TV version of The Forsytes vs the classic one from 1967. Having found the 1967 one to still be ruling the memories of it in my own head, it hit me to check if perhaps the old one might be available on YouTube. And actually the whole series is available there - 26 episodes, and restored in HD (still in black & white of course). If you're interested to check it out, just type "the forsyte saga 1967" into the search box on YouTube. (Since Saturday I have watched four episodes so far, and intend to continue. Already in the very first episode it struck me how clear the introduction of the characters was right from start, compared to later versions. But again - maybe that's just because it fits with my memories!) 

Kitchen Gnomes (Part 2)

 

On the small wooden corner shelf in my kitchen you'll find my wooden gnomes. (The other items are there all year round.) The shelf itself belonged to my paternal grandmother, and once upon a time used to sit in her kitchen. 

The wooden house (a model of a kind of storehouse that used to be common in the north of Sweden) comes from my mum's side of the family (my maternal grandfather was from "up north") - and so does the little carved dog. The boat-like thing next to the house is a souvenir bought on a family trip up north in my early teens - a wooden cup, a traditional Sami kind of item. The little ceramic deer and the "nutty" squirrel were presents from friends some time in the past; and the little grey gnome I think was originally part of some Christmas flower arrangement. 

The two gnomes to the left on the middle shelf I remember buying when visiting a Christmas market in a friend's church back in my upper teens. And the grey one on the same shelf was a Christmas gift from a Swedish penfriend some 20+ years ago. 

A random collection of things, but with one thing in common: 
They're all bearers of memories of family and friends.

Autumn Decorations

 

My autumn (fall) decorations are rather modest compared to what I see on some American blogs - we don't have quite the same tradition here of filling our homes and gardens with ghosts and carved pumpkins this time of year.

An old chest in my living room is my main place of changing decorations with the seasons, though, and the orange candles + fake orange gladiouli have been there throughout October. The other day I added my two owls (which during summer live elsewhere). In the big one you can put a tea candle (nowadays I use battery ones for safety). That one I inherited from my mum. The small one is made of solid concrete (very heavy for its size!), and I bought that one a few years ago, because it reminded me so much of the bigger one!

Today Ginny's blog post reminded me that I actually also have a small scarecrow that  rarely gets to be on display. So I added that to the brown vase for the next week or so. 

 

As scarecrows go, it's not really very scary! 

 

 

If memory serves me right, I got the scarecrowfrom my friend Gunilla up in Karlstad on some occasion. We were close friends since our early 20s. In February it will sadly be three years since she died - shortly before her 70th birthday. (She had a lot of health problems all her life, but in spite of that also managed to spread a lot of joy.) 

 

Halloween in Sweden is primarily a holiday when people remember loved ones who passed away, and visit their graves to decorate them with winter wreaths and candles. I'm not sure I'll be walking even as far as to the nearby cemetery in the week to come - but memories can be honoured in other ways, without going anywhere at all. 

The One and Only Bottle of Wine

 

AI image by BING

Yorkshire Pudding's recent post entitled Temperance ended with a "How about you?" question. I put in a short reply there, but then also felt inspired to share a memory here on my own blog.

I was born into a teetotaller family. My maternal grandfather was chairman of a local branch of a Temperance organisation. My paternal grandmother's father was among the founders of a free church. My own parents weren't active members of any organisation or church, but there was never any alcohol in our house; nor was it ever served in any family context on either side of the family. For my own part, even in my youth I never felt tempted to start drinking alcohol either. I had enough friends with whom I had fun without any of us drinking anything stronger than tea - while on the other hand, I also came across a few  people with serious addiction problems.

The Wine Bottle story that popped to mind for me is this: 

Once, back in my teens, some time in the early 1970s, my parents had invited a business friend of my dad's + his wife for dinner; and they came bearing a gift: A bottle of wine. They probably felt some consternation when neither their bottle nor any other wine appeared on the table together with the food. But no drinks stronger than 2,25% apple cider were ever served in our house. 

However, my parents must also have felt a reluctance to just get rid of the wine later by opening the bottle and pouring it out. Instead, it was just stored away in the cellar. 

Just putting something away in the cellar and forgetting about it is of course not all that odd. (For one thing, my dad was always rather reluctant to throw anything away.) But it did feel odd when decades later, I discovered that wine bottle (still intact) sitting on a shelf in the cellar of the house they moved to some twenty years later (dad's childhood home, which they added to and moved into when he retired). They did actually get rid of quite a lot of other stuff in connection with moving... But for obscure reasons, not that bottle!

The 40+ years old bottle (still unopened) was still there in 2014 when my brother and I finally cleared out that house to sell it (after our parents had passed away). 

I too just left it on the shelf, to be dealt with (together with a lot of other odds and ends) by the antique dealer we hired for the final clearing of the house. 

For all I know, it may still be sitting unopened on a shelf in someone else's cellar.

 

Catching Up

 

I asked Bing Image Creator for "Two 70 year old women with short grey hair and wearing glasses, holding tea cups, sitting and chatting, in the style  of Matisse". None of these images really resemble neither me nor my friend very much at all - but I find the "Matisse" twist a refreshing change from the "cartoon" style that I've usually asked Bing for! :)

A friend of mine since nearly 50 years got in touch recently and said she'd be in my town for a few days, working. She's an optician by profession; retired since a few years, but substituting now and then. And the chain she used to work for has shops in various cities; so sometimes she makes it into a kind of "working holiday" to go and help out somewhere different than in her own home town, for a week or so. 

Anyway, this time her stay also included a work free Sunday. So I invited her to spend part of that day with me. She came to me for lunch, and as we had a lot to catch up on, she also stayed on for afternoon tea before she went back to her hotel.

We got to know one another in our early twenties up in Karlstad (where we both lived back then), via a church and a youth gospel choir there. Now we are both turning 70 in August. Hard to grasp!! 

The last time we met was a couple of years "before the pandemic". During the course of our conversation this afternoon we found ourselves using "before/after the pandemic" as a time marker so many times that it struck us both that covid really did bring about quite a few changes in people's social lives (both our own and other friends'). 

Over the last seven years or so, we have also both lost quite a few mutual old friends (although not actually to covid, I think). So there was a lot to reminisce about.

And as many times before in later years (whenever getting together with other old friends approaching 70), I was once again reminded of Simon & Garfunkel's song Old Friends/Bookends. Even if today was a summer Sunday, and we were sitting indoors rather than outdoors on a park bench (and it was definitely not cold outside either!)

Old friends
Old friends
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends
 

---

Can you imagine us
Years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange
To be seventy 


Old friends
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fears

Time it was
And what a time it was
It was . . .
A time of innocence
A time of confidences

Long ago . . . it must be . . .
I have a photograph
Preserve your memories
They're all that's left you

From 'Old Friends' by Paul Simon

Related posts:

Seeking Shadow (2020) 

Old Friends (2024)

Memories of Moving (2008)

17 years ago, in April 2008, I had been actively looking for a new flat (apartment) for about a year. My decision to move had been made even earlier, though - following early retirement in 2004 because of chronic neck/arm pain (including difficulties to carry things up/down stairs); and then, on top of that, in the summer of 2006, major surgery of other kind making things even more difficult for a while.

I knew what I wanted: A flat of about the same size as the one I had, but preferably with three rooms instead of two; in a building with a lift (elevator) (which we did not have where I lived); closer to the city centre, but not too noisy; and not situated on the top a steep hill... (I felt I had had enough of that, too, after 22 years.)

When I started looking for such a place, it proved easier said than done to find it, though.

But finally, at the end of April, 2008, one such flat, owned by the municipal housing company, was announced available on short notice (2 months rather than the usual 3). I went to have a look at the building from outside. The location seemed ok - away from the main road and traffic noise. The building was only three storeys high, but had a lift - and also a sturdy, "straight" staircase with handrails on both sides, instead of a narrow spiral one (as at my old place). Not on top of a steep hill, and closer to the city centre than my previous flat.

I returned home and registered my interest immediately; and the very next day I was able to go back and have a look inside. The previous tenants were a young family with two small children, who were going to move to a bigger flat; and the mum was home and showed me around. I asked if I could also take a few photos, and was allowed to do so.

The first thing that caught my eye when I entered the kitchen was the view from the window there. Below is the photo I took of the kitchen on that visit - 28 April, 2008. I loved the fact that there were trees outside, and the next building not too close. 

Looking out the same window yesterday and taking a mental walk down "Memory Lane", I then managed to also locate the kitchen window photo I took that day on an old photo CD:

28th April, 2008

The flat was available from 1 July, i.e. just two months away. Standard notice period here is 3 months, but I had counted on needing one month's "margin" for the move anyway (i.e. I was prepared to pay double rent for one month, rather than have to rely on others moving out and myself moving in on the same day). 

I liked the layout of the flat, too; and as soon as I got back home, I contacted the housing company's office. They said that as no one else had registred interest (probably because of the short notice), it was mine if I wanted it. I signed the contract at their office on 29th April, and also managed to give 3 months notice to my old landlord about moving, at the very last moment. (30th April is Walpurgis Night in Sweden, with offices usually closing early, if open at all.)

The next couple of months I remember as a frenzy of planning and fixing and packing. There were also some things that needed fixing in the new flat after the old tenants moved out, but before I moved in: like new wallpaper in most of the rooms. But I managed to negotiate with the landlord's office to get that done during the first three weeks in July; and on the 24th of that month, I moved in.

The day after the Big Move - 25th July, 2008

 

 I hired professional help with the major part of the packing and transport, and to get my furniture in "more or less" the right places on arrival in the new flat. But what I had not quite counted on was how then to deal with all the unpacking - with all the space between major furniture filled with "towers" of moving boxes too heavy for me to lift! (All my books, and whatnot...) Luckily, I did manage to get some help now and then from various friends with more physical strength than myself! (phew)

28th April, 2025

17 years later, I still love the view from my kitchen window. The trees outside have kept growing taller and taller; and in summer, greenery is pretty much all I see from my favourite spot at the kitchen table now. (And even in winter it's quite a nice view from there.)

Another Walk Down Memory Lane

"Saknar dig" = Miss you

Today, my thoughts go to a friend of mine who died two years ago - 28 January, 2023 - two weeks before her 70th birthday.

Her name was Gunilla, and she and I first met in the autumn of 1975, when we were both in our early twenties. I had just moved to Karlstad to attend secretarial college. I don't remember now if G was still studying as well, or already working as a preschool teacher. Anyway, we met through a mutual friend, a church situated only a few minutes walk from where I lived the first year, and a youth gospel choir in that church. I've never been a great singer; but that choir was really more about fellowship than perfection; and it was a great way to quickly make new friends in a new town. Some of them I'm still in touch with (more or less) 50 years later.  

I ended up living in Karlstad for 10½ years; and G remained one of my best friends throughout those years and beyond. 

In 2011 I summed her up like this in a blog post, in connection with a visit from her and her husband:  "Her whole life she has been under the pressure of a complicated set of health issues --- But she’s one of the most inspiring and positive people I know; always making the best out of every situation. She’s definitely a friend who has made a lasting and colourful imprint on my life."  

G + husband in 2011

Even from birth, G's body did not produce its own cortisol. She had serious allergies and asthma, and as a side effect of medication, she stopped growing when was around 8-9 years old or so. Later in life she also got problems with osteoporosis, and got increasingly dependent on her wheelchair.

When I got to know her in the mid 1970s, though, she lived on her own in a flat on the 1st floor (not ground floor), drove her own car (automatic transmission), and worked as a pre-school teacher, and later director.

In 1986 I moved to Borås. Not very long after that, G got married. We still kept in touch frequently, writing long letters to each other. We also visited each other now and then. Gradually, times came for both of us when for various health reasons we met less frequently, and even long letters eventually became a thing of the past. But we continued to stay in touch. 

The last years of her life, besides her husband she also depended on a daytime personal assistant (whom I never met). 

The last time we met was in the summer of 2022 - about six months before she died. That summer my brother (also living in Karlstad) drove down here and brought me back up there to stay with him for a week or so. One day I set aside for meeting with G + husband. It was a beautiful sunny day and we were able to have lunch at a restaurant close to where they lived, and sit outside. I also went back home with them for a while afterwards.

I kind of sensed then that it might be the last time we met (in this earthly life, anyway). The last time I spoke to her on the phone was some time around Christmas that year. And at the end of January, I got a message from her husband that she had passed away (in hospital). 

I'm thankful to have our sunny last meeting to look back on.

I have no photo of the two of us together from the early years, but below is one from 1995 (celebrating my 40th birthday), combined with one from that last meeting in 2022.

Remembering CJ

Yesterday,  jabblog had a post entitled Remembrance - a topic which happens to coincide with two remembrance days of my own this time of year. 

Last year, when I learned that my blogging and postcard-loving friend CJ in England (also known as John, or in blogging context as Scriptor Senex) had passed away, I wrote a memorial post based on postcards he sent me during our first year of postcard correspondence (2012). Those cards were only the first of many more to follow. I collected all of them all in chronolgical order in photo pockets in binders along the way, and also scanned them. So why not share a few more now that another year has passed... The ones below are from 2013, and represent some things we both liked. 

 

Books / Reading

Historical buildings, architecture, art...

(No 10 Downing Street, London)

Fairy tales and fantasy 

Postcrossing and Snail Mail...

Beautiful butterflies

 

 
Cute children's books illustrations

"(23rd October) I'm rather hoping that our larder does not look like this when we get back from holiday. We are now in a hotel near Hay-on-Wye, the bookshop capital of England/Wales. ---"

Liverpool Cathedral

... Oddities in unexpected places ...

"(6 November) If you ever visit Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral, you must look for the church mouse! It's on a memorial to the Earl of Derby, but even knowing it is there, it's very hard to spot. - Needless to say I chose this card because of our current visitors. It looks as though we have stemmed the tide and someone has given us a tip about keeping them out --- we'll see if it works."

Places he liked to visit, and revisit, like... 

Devon, where a daughter lived

"(May 2013) In a couple of weeks Jo and I will be going down to Helen and Ian's in Devon to cat-sit for a few days so they can have a little holiday..."

 

The isle of Lewis, where his brother GB (of the blog Eagleton Notes) lives...

... and closer to home, Wales...

"(Dec 2013) This Welsh cottage picture just abut sums up the sort of place I would love to live - not that it would be realistic..."

Jane Austen, Letter from December 24, 1798

"(18 Dec 2013) ... I'm excited at having just bought a box of Jane Austen quotations postcards..." 

* * *

PS. I've (alas!) never been to the Hebrides; but way back in my teens, on family holidays, I both visited London and travelled by car through England, Wales and mainland Scotland. So I have fond memories of my own of various British landscapes and famous places - besides all I've learned from books and TV and blogs (and postcards!) over the decades since then. 

Graduation Anniversary

 

Today is Graduation Day in our high schools / upper secondary schools here. Yesterday I noticed this lavishy decorated entrance at one of the buildings in my neighbourhood. (Decorations still up today.) Someone living there is celebrating "big"! :)

I have blogged about Swedish high school graduation traditions before. Today's local newspaper reminded us all that last years celebrations turned dramatic as a big fire broke out in the town centre - probably not caused by the celebrations as such, but it forced all the parading vehicles with celebrating (ex)students to take a different route than usual. (And the building where the fire was is still wrapped in plastic and undergoing major renovation.) You can read my blog post about that here. Last year the month of June was hot and dry. This year, so far, it's chilly and wet... Hopefully that means less risk of fires - but not so much fun for the students riding around town in open vehicles!

This year it's 50 years since my own high school graduation. Looking back through some more old graduation blog posts, I also found the collage below (photos from 7th June 1974; collage made in 2012). It was raining and rather chilly on my graduation day too.

I did not have a graduation party, as that same weekend I was leaving with my family for a three weeks holiday by car in the U.K. (Our last long trip together as a family.)

My photo album from that journey tells me that exactly 50 years ago today, 14 June 1974, I was at Devil's Bridge in Wales. (Link to a blog post of mine about that from 2021.)

...

Adding a link to Sepia Saturday 728