WHEN GRANDMA GOT "KRUMKAKE" ROLLER (WAFER ROLLER)

(This is primarily a google translation).

Finns "krumkake" roller. Drawing by Find Bringsjord

"Grandma in new house" was born in 1867 and belonged to a time when neither celebrated confirmations or birthdays. The only time she was celebrated was when she married Louis Abrahamsen in 1890. When grandmother in 1952 filled 85 years, I believed it was time to change this.

I knew what she wanted, for she had shown when we were down and tasted her krumkaker (wafer?) last July. The cone-shaped tree she shaped krumkakene around, then so eaten up by marten that it had split into two. Grandma wafer biscuits were the world's best, and now she would get new Krumkake rolls designed by me. She'd probably jump in the rocking chair when she was surprised with the world's finest birthday gift.

I took out the ax that had the name "Finn" nicely engraved in the shaft; the one that I had received from Thorhild and Arthur last July and which I had used for limbing trees last winter when we "guys" were the woodcutting in Kvassekleiva. Then we had to find a nice birchwood plank and pointed it to the chopping block. It went smoothly slash to the conical part of the roller, worse was to have carved out a suit customs shaft in the thick end. Then had to use a saw, and it was heavy to handle.

Coincidentally, my father came past and then made everything out for the best. He was also kind and lent me his sharp knife. The result was a smooth and fine Krumkake roller, albeit slightly shorter than planned; when it was difficult to get into a symmetrical point. The tree got some dark brown spots here and there when it was not inevitable that I cut my finger, but my mother washed away the worst with when I came into the kitchen, put the plaster on the wounded finger and took out nice wrapping from last Christmas.

Fine should be, so grandma gift was wrapped in American Christmas paper and wrapped around a cord of dark blue woolen thread. Then I snuck a detour so that no twin brother Kjell would hang on, down to the "new house" between the old road and the new post road, where I knocked and were admitted.

 With great seriousness I congratulated grandmother with 95th anniversary (10 years for a lot), and with a manly guy, I handed her a gift in today's occasion.
Grandma did not know whether to laugh or cry, but she was touched, so it poured against the latter. But such feelings she could not deleted reference to a boy, so she went into the kitchen and took the coffee pot, which by smell in the house must have stood and cooked on wood stove from early morning, poured a cup of gunpowder strong coffee and poured on some cream she skimmed off the top of a milk bowl. Then she took the coffee cup into the living room, took out a blue bowl of sugar cubes from kråskapet (corner cupboard), sat down in the rocking chair close to the edge of the table and poured coffee from the cup gently down to the cooling in the small under bowl.

Then she lifted in lap her yungest grandson, and we began to loosen the red christmaspaper round gift. "What can now be?" Wondered grandmother. Since I was sitting with my back to her I could not see if she was pleasantly surprised, but she did enough there, she said it was just such Krumkake rolls she had long gone to the desired ones. Then I got a kind of hug and allowed to dip sugar cubes in her bowl coffee.

 Grandma and Me

It was warm and peaceful in the small living room, and hot and well in Grandma caught, so we sat and rocked in the chair her. I think maybe grandmother sat there and dreamed away to his younger days, when everything was good and grandfather Ludvig was home from the sea and she lull their children to sleep at night, for now I heard that she hummed in a rather monotonous and soporific lullaby . As verse was repeated and repeated decreased words into and song took shape. It was as follows:

Live, live the little?

Yes, he does so!

Take off your shoe

and milk the cow

and give the little to drink.

Slowly floundered I got up and took for a new sugar cube. "What are you singing about, Grandma?"

"Oh, it's an old legend about a young farm queen Ingri and the little prince of her," Grandma said.

"Be so kind as and tell me", Grandma," I prayed with thin and beautiful voice. Grandma poured the rest of the coffee in the bowl, sat nestled in the rocking chair, and began to tell: "For many, many years ago there lived a beautiful young girl named Ingri here in Bringsjord ...»

Sequel follows in the next blog: THE LEGEND ABOUT INGRIS CRADLE SONG

This blog page is printed in the
newspaper Lister 14th March 2015