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I just bought 3 cubic meters (abt. 105 cubic feet) of firewood (birch). Now I have carried it all in to the shed. It was hard work and my lumbago woke up and said "Hey buddy, I'm still here so be careful".
Anyway, feeling the warm fragrance of dry birch while I stacked the wood in the shed, I suddenly remembered my uncle John.
He emigrated in 1925 when he was 21 years of age. He worked as a farm hand, a lumber jack, tailor and carpenter. In 1971 he visited the old country, for the first and only time together with his wife Aino, who was born in the Carelian isthmus.
Uncle John spoke only Pedersöre dialect when he emigrated, When he returned he had almost forgot it, but he spoke English without any accent and Carelian Finnish dialect which he had learned from his wife. Aino being a housewife, who never worked outside the home, spoke pure Finglish.
When they visited us at our summer house in Jakobstad we took a stroll outside. The neighbor was burning birch in his fireplace. When uncle John felt the fragrance of the birch smoke he stopped, took his pipe out of his mouth and sniffed. He was silent for a few seconds. Then he smiled and said "björkvään" (birch wood). And then he got his old dialect back in a couple of days.
Isn't amazing what the "nose memory" can do? My uncle remembered his childhood language and I, in my turn, rememebered him and that magic moment 35 years ago. All that was needed was some birch.
Sune
Anyway, feeling the warm fragrance of dry birch while I stacked the wood in the shed, I suddenly remembered my uncle John.
He emigrated in 1925 when he was 21 years of age. He worked as a farm hand, a lumber jack, tailor and carpenter. In 1971 he visited the old country, for the first and only time together with his wife Aino, who was born in the Carelian isthmus.
Uncle John spoke only Pedersöre dialect when he emigrated, When he returned he had almost forgot it, but he spoke English without any accent and Carelian Finnish dialect which he had learned from his wife. Aino being a housewife, who never worked outside the home, spoke pure Finglish.
When they visited us at our summer house in Jakobstad we took a stroll outside. The neighbor was burning birch in his fireplace. When uncle John felt the fragrance of the birch smoke he stopped, took his pipe out of his mouth and sniffed. He was silent for a few seconds. Then he smiled and said "björkvään" (birch wood). And then he got his old dialect back in a couple of days.
Isn't amazing what the "nose memory" can do? My uncle remembered his childhood language and I, in my turn, rememebered him and that magic moment 35 years ago. All that was needed was some birch.
Sune
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