Who’s Who?

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I got caught up in the family tree again this week (my own, not Donald Duck’s!), trying to sort out who is who… Visit recent posts in my blog Greetings from the Past if you’re interested in details. Or just keep on reading here.

I have quite a large collection now of old family photos from dad’s side of the family from the first half of the 1900s (not to mention my own lifetime). Some are multiple copies of the same photos though. The problem is that whether they were put into albums or frames or just kept in various boxes or envelopes, there are very few notes to tell who is who, or when and where. Add to this that family members often share some similar face features, and that my p.grandmother (born 1900) had eight siblings and half-siblings born between 1866 and 1902… A lot of guesswork involved!

A few years ago, before dad’s memory began to seriously fail him, I sat down with him a couple of times and went through one collection of old photos (which had belonged to one of grandma’s sisters, and which was already in my possession). Those I then put in an album together with the information I had. Which has been helpful. But… (you know there was a But coming, didn’t you?)…

… There is only one photo in which I am positive that both my grandmother’s two older brothers, Carl and Gustaf, who lived on the farm in the late 1920s, appear together. The question is: Who is who? I think even dad was not sure (after all, one of them died before dad was even born) or else I got it wrong when I wrote it down.

Recently at the House I found a portrait of one of them from back in his youth, though. And there was no doubt which brother and approximately when it was taken, because it was a studio portrait stamped Port Allegany, Pa; and it was Gustaf who emigrated and lived nine years in America in his youth.

      

Then when I compared that to photos from the late 1920s… it dawned on me that the man I had taken to be Carl (left) must be Gustaf, and the other way round.

So I have to reboot my brain… and rename some digital photos.

What finally convinced me was the photo below, which I can positively date to after Carl’s death (1928) because in the background is the house that my grandparents built in 1930:

My grandmother Sally is the one in the hat. Her mother Selma in the middle. To the right Sally’s younger brother Nils and his wife /fiancée. Sitting on the ground is their sister Hildur, and her husband /fiancé is the man standing to the left of Sally. Carl Gustaf sitting to the left, and now the only thing bothering me is who is that man bottom right, I don’t think he is family at all! My grandfather was behind the camera, I think.

(Sally, Nils and Hildur all got married in 1930. I may have the dates somewhere but never mind. They were either newly wed or soon to be married when this photo was taken.)

D for Drottningholm (ABC Wednesday)

All photos in this post are from either the Swedish Royal Court’s webpage or Wikimedia Commons.

The Drottningholm Palace (Drottningholms slott) is is one of Sweden's Royal Palaces and the private residence of the present royal family since 1981. It is located in Drottningholm (literally Queen’s islet) on the island Lovön in Mälaren on the outskirts of Stockholm.

Parts of the palace and grounds are open to the public.

Drottningholm is the most well-preserved royal castle built in the 1600s in Sweden and representative of all European architecture for the period.

Throughout the years the palace has changed and the royal personages who lived here have all left their mark on the palace's interiors – influenced by changes in style and fashion trends.

Hedvig Eleonora's state bedchamber was the heart of the state reception suite in the 1600s and was created by the country's foremost artists and craftsmen.

The Queen’s Library (private room) from 1760

The China Room from 1897, an exhibition room.

Since the reign of Johan III's in the late 1500s, there has been a palace garden at Drottningholm.

There is also an 18th century Theatre, still in use.
The Theatre auditorium remains unchanged since its completion in 1766.

Almost all of the equipment is original, and the stage is unusual for having a significantly greater depth than width. The operas are often performed by musicians wearing period costume, and the orchestra performs using period or copies of authentic instruments. Most productions demonstrate some of the possible stage effects using the original equipment.

The Chinese Pavilion (Kina slott) is from 1763-69.
The architecture is essentially rococo. It was intended to have an exotic character, containing Chinese elements which were then the highest fashion ▼

In 1991, UNESCO inscribed Drottningholm on the World Heritage list for the following reason: The ensemble of Drottningholm – palace, theatre, Chinese pavilion and gardens – is the best example of a royal residence built in the 18th century in Sweden and is representative of all European architecture of that period, heir to the influences exerted by the Chateau of Versailles on the construction of royal residences in western, central and northern Europe.

All photos in this post are from either the Swedish Royal Court’s webpage or Wikimedia Commons.

I have visited Drottningholm two or three times in the past but it was a long time ago now. I can’t remember if I was ever inside the castle; but I know I that have been inside the theatre (not attending a performance but on a guided tour) and the Chinese Pavillion.

This post is linked to ABC Wednesday

The Earth Moved…

Around 5 am on Monday morning (6 August 2012) a shallow earthquake of magnitude 4.4 with the epicenter below Kattegatt occurred off the south-west coast of Sweden. It was felt in both Sweden and Denmark and woke up a lot of people.

Earthquakes with a magnitude 3 occur almost every year in Sweden but earthquakes like this approx. every 10 years. It’s said to have lasted about 15 seconds. No damage has been reported.

In a village on the coast south of Halmstad, people first thought that a freight train must be derailing near the community. Others report that their first thought was  that a heavy truck must be passing by just outside their home, or something like that.

Today (Tuesday) my local newspaper informs me that the quake was felt by some even as far inland as in and around this town.

At that time of morning, if I felt the earth moving a little while I was asleep or half-asleep in bed, I guess my brain would have interpreted it as just another a train passing… Living close to a railway, I’m used to heavy freight trains shaking the ground a little a few times a day (and night).

A reminder that in a global perspective, our little corner of the world is still, after all, rather quiet and secure.

The Beginning of the End

… or perhaps the other way round?

I never know quite where to start, I still don’t see The End (even if I think it’s getting closer) - and just like both the Edwards brothers (GB and CJ) said this week, all too often “I keep meaning to” … only to find myself doing something else instead…

Can someone tell me what happened to July, I see to my astonishment that we’re almost a week into August already, and no idea how that happened?! I still have things to blog about from the few ‘touristing’ daytrips my brother and I made a couple of weeks ago. Now he’s been and gone a second time and his holiday is over; and so is mine - if I count as holiday the five weeks summer break from going to the rehab pool on regular hours twice a week. (They open again tomorrow. I’ve no complaints about that, mind. Even if it makes my time less flexible, hopefully it will help to keep aching joints and muscles more flexible…)

Last week I spent two days out at the House on my own, emptying wardrobes and continuing my raids in the kitchen cupboards and various drawers etc.

As those were two of the most summery days we’ve had this summer, this may sound like a masochist way of spending them. But that’s really also the best kind of weather for me to be able to go out to the House on my own and get anything done. It can even feel like a good thing on such a day to get up early and take the bus out of town and away from the (presumed) heat of midday in town…

I had the back door to the garden open and kept to “downstairs” work so that I could easily pop outside for a break every now and then.

And I took a camping chair to the very back of the garden so that I could sit and enjoy a view no one has seen for years…. We asked our “gardener” to do an extra job for us this summer, before we sell:

Makes us almost want to keep the place now!

But even if there is some nostalgia involved, the dominant feeling when the day finally comes will probably be relief. Hopefully we’re talking months rather than years ahead now. (The house is not officially up for sale yet but we have a presumptive buyer with whom we’re keeping in touch, and if all goes well maybe we won’t have to look further.)

My brother came down again this past week, and if last time we did more touristing than work, this time it was more work than holiday. I lost count of how many sacks Per ended up driving to the recycling centre…

Did I tell you dad’s motto?

(from dad’s notice board – as if he needed the reminder!)

Every time I’ve spent a day or two out there, I end up throwing away things at home as well when I get back. Partly to make room for things I take home with me (see the first photo) and partly as some kind of magic ritual perhaps. (“I shall not become my parents…”)

This week we continued with dad’s study upstairs and mum’s study/sewing room. Just as I was beginning to think that it seemed as though mum at least must have been a bit more radical about getting rid of old papers at some point in the past… oops, we found a big old box tucked in under a bed… full of old notebooks, diaries, letters… Bridges of Madison County, anyone?? 

The content in that box seemed to be from before mum started dating dad, though. Much to our relief (if also some bewilderment!), most of the notebooks also turned out to just be old schoolbooks. I saved one or two as samples, but felt no hesitation about throwing away the rest. But… there were also some diaries…

What does one do with one’s mother’s diaries?

My own teenage diaries (not that I ever kept one on a regular basis) I got rid of years ago. I had no idea that mum had kept hers – not sure I even ever knew she wrote them. Even less do I know if she would have wanted me to read them or not.

Hesitatingly, I took her teenage diaries home with me and ended up browsing through them yesterday afternoon. I decided to keep only the first one, written when she was 14 (1944). It has some some fun little doodles in it, references to family names I recognize, and lists of books she got for Christmas and her birthday, things like that. The later diaries proved less interesting from family history perspective, so I “let them go”.

In my hall stands a heavy moving-box full of mum’s photo albums from the mid 1970’s onward; i.e. from after I moved away from home. They’re the loose leaf kind so I’m hoping to eventually be able to reduce them to perhaps one binder to save/scan… (Optimistic?)

We also found more documents from dad’s side of the family this week, like the original deeds from when my grandfather first bought the piece of land upon which the house was built, back in 1930; and inventories of the estates after grandma’s half-siblings (those who wrote and collected the old postcards. I hope I’ll be able to devote more time to blog on about them and other family history after we’ve sold the house).

On top of all the “paperwork” we also made some (more) decisions about what we want to keep of china and glassware and such… And so, to make room for old coffee cups and tea cups and side plates, I’ve had to spend the rest of the weekend reorganizing my kitchen cupboards!

So if you haven’t seen me around in Blogland much, now you know why.

Sometimes I read a few blogs on my Android phone without leaving comments though; so I may not be quite as absent as I seem! ♥

BTT : Picking and Choosing

Two questions from Booking Through Thursday this week, about selecting your books.

Pooch asks: Overall, what factor most influences your choice of your next read?

Sefcug asks: What is it that makes you want to read a book by an author you have never read before?

Good questions, but not easy to answer. My choice of my next read could be influenced by anything, really. What mood I happen to be in. If someone mentioned a certain book recently. What happens to catch my eye when I visit the library or bookshop. I don’t keep a “to read” list except perhaps vaguely in my head.

As for what makes me want to read a book by an author I’ve never read before… That too might be a review in the newspaper, a recommendation from a friend, a discussion between readers with different opinions about it (so that I want to form my own opinion) or just a cover or title catching my attention and the blurb sounding promising. 

Right now, for example, I’m listening (in Swedish translation) to an audio book: The Dream by Harry Bernstein. Never heard of it before I borrowed it at the libary last week. Basically I think I was looking for something, anything that was not a murder mystery.

Now when I look him up, I find that this is his second autobiographical novel and that he published the first one at age 96. He lived to be 101, with three successful books behind him; and the fourth will be published posthumously in 2012.

Never too late, it seems!