Saby gard

Lauren and I arrived at a family farm that my sister visited for a month in 1968. She has kept in touch with the Hannell family for all this time and they graciously offered to host us for a few days.

Our hosts were Goran, who was ten years old when Lindsey visited in 1968; his wife Catherine; and their daughters Frida and Sara. They were extremely generous and included us in all their family meals and parties with their close friends, which was doubly kind given that we were complete strangers who by our presence obligated them to speak English at a time when they might otherwise have gladly not. But they were all patient with us and quite funny. One good joke: a Swedish summer is defined as three weeks of bad skiing.

first meal with the Hannells on their porch overlooking their fields.  A moose crossed in the background  while we ate.

We happened to visit during the midsummer holiday. This is the biggest holiday in Sweden, when families and communities gather to celebrate with each other on the longest day of the year.  In a field outside the local church, we witnessed the raising of the maypole, which became the epicenter of a dance circle including an accordion player singing and playing Swedish songs which were familiar to everyone (except us). At this particular gathering there was also a baking competition, and in our honour the Hannell's oldest daughter created a cake with an American flag as its theme.

Goran and Catherine have an unusual ritual piling everyone  (9 of us in this case) into  a pickup with picnic supplies, then driving on bumpy dirt roads through their farm's pastures to a small raft sitting at the edge of an enormous bay, upon which was a single picnic table where we had our picnic. At this meal Lauren and I were introduced to the combination of a shot of schnapps, chased by a forkful of potato and pickled herring.  We will be shopping at Ikea for these items when we come home.

Sara surveys the raft from the taxi

Lauren, not generally fond of dogs, finds her best friend

a wonderful friend of the Hannells who rode this same bike in a 300 kilometer race in 15 hours, 30 years ago

On the porch outside their farm.

Just before leaving the farm for the last time

Catherine and Sara during our last meal together