The house next to ours is having another house built beside it. That’s to say a new house is being built on the same block as an old house. I assume the new one will replace the old one which, eventually, will become an out building. Most Swedish houses have at least one out building. Maybe they started off, originally, as the main house. It’s possible.
Anyway, the house next door has big, bright, permanently on, floodlights. I don’t know why. It’s not like they work at night. It only bothers us when we look out the bedroom window really but I do wonder why. Perhaps it’s to keep the moose away.
For whatever reason, it’s going to get increasingly annoying as more leaves fall, rendering the trees more or less see through.
Speaking of leaves and trees, we went to Coffee Island again this morning. The woman serving remembered Mirinda and asked how many words she was up to now. “83,” She proudly proclaimed. She also explained that she was using an app which told her how many and it wasn’t like she was counting.
The approach to the island, via the park around Tyresö Slott, was littered with golden leaves as the trees shook off their summer clothes, leaving themselves bare and spindly before the oncoming winter. Which seems somewhat topsy-turvy, if you think about it.
In an unrelated incident, I managed to buy something from the new Swedish Amazon this morning. I needed a printer. Anyway, after the last debacle, I decided to try doing it in Sweden. It all worked fine but the address here has an accent over one of the letters in the street name and the address wouldn’t be accepted without it. All I had to do was cut and paste but it was interesting to note how important the little ‘o’ is.
But, back on the island.
After a lovely brunch we took the girls for a walk along the path to the Prince’s Villa, noticing on the way how many people seemed to be out and about. Of course, it was All Saints Day when families visit their dead relatives so that’s possibly why although we like to think that they come out every Sunday to make the most of the snow free weather.
The glory of Tyresö Slott is not reflected in the Prince’s Villa. In fact, the villa looks like an out building that was used for storing the gardening tools. Maybe the Prince was a bit of a Monty Don when he wasn’t going about his princely duties.
To one side of the villa is a small orchard now completely free of fruit. (When I say ‘to one side’ I mean about 200 metres away.) We noticed little triangular messages hanging from the branches.
One thing Mirinda has learned in her Swedish language lessons is that to change a sentence from yes to no, you just add the word ‘inte’. For instance, if you wanted someone to pick fruit from a tree, you’d write: Plocka frukt tack. If you were God, however, you’d write:
Carrying on the mythological theme, we then walked over to the church which sits just the other side of the car park which separates it from the palace.
The church (I haven’t been able to find who it is dedicated to or even if Swedish churches are dedicated to anyone) is very popular with Swedes because of its location. While it’s remarkably well sited for photographs with the palace in one direction and woodland in the others, you also can’t see any modern buildings.
Presumably that wasn’t the case when it was inaugurated in 1641. The palace would have been modern at the time. In fact, the church was designed by the same person who re-designed the palace. Baron Gabriel Gustafsson Oxenstierna was his name. In fact, the church was inaugurated with his burial.
One of the first things I said on seeing the church was how squat the tower was. Not knowing any other Swedish churches, I assumed this was how they were all built. However, this particular church had a fire in 1790 which saw the top half of the tower burned away. This included the spire which was, no doubt, impressive.
The locals put the fire out and a patch up job was performed. Tenders were put out but the cost to rebuild the tower to its original height were too expensive so a new roof was made and the spire was no more. Seems like God wasn’t that bothered.
As we left the locked up church (Mirinda posited that it was locked because too many people might collect in the church on All Saints Day) we headed back to Max via the palace. Where we were pleasantly waylaid in a restaurant.
Mirinda was reading the menu in the window when a lady popped her head out and said we were welcome to come in, with the dogs, if we so wanted. When she said we could just have drinks if we wanted, we were sold.
Don’t be fooled by the photo above. Behind me there were tables full of families.
I had a rather lovely IPA while Mirinda enjoyed a coffee.
A Sunday trip to Tyresö Slott could become a bit of a tradition while we live where we currently live. It will be interesting to see how many other people do the same as the weather continues to deteriorate.
In passing…
I see that there’s to be a new Lockdown in the UK. I also see that the strange habit of buying all the toilet paper in the country has re-occurred. Why? Did all of them not see what was written about their stupidity last time?
It’s times like this that I am so glad to be in a normal country where people only buy toilet paper as and when they need it.
Today, this happened
There was once a sort of standard joke concerning young boys finding a copy of the National Geographic and discovering the joy of naked women within the pages. Clearly this was well before the Internet. In fact, the first time naked breasts were shown within the Nat Geo (as it’s called these days) was today. In 1896.
The first issue of the magazine was published on September 22, 1888, nine months after the society was founded. For the first few issues it was a scholarly journal but then it went to anyone willing to subscribe or buy a copy.
Alexander Graham Bell (he of the telephone) was the President of the Society at one stage. It was during his time as President that the magazine featured lots more photographs as well as text. A lot of the old stalwart and stodgy members were not convinced about the photographs. They felt the magazine went from being serious to frivolous.
Mind you, in 1982, the whole photographic emphasis was wrapped in controversy when the February issue featured an altered image of the Giza pyramids on the cover.
These days, they are still known for the quality of their photographs as well as the geographic articles. They are also mostly owned by Disney. There has been a number of racial issues over the past 20 years but the quality is still there.
Sadly, I haven’t been able to find the name of the woman but here’s her famous breasts.
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