It's Friday evening, I've spent today wandering Gamla Stan (the old city), am now back at Doris's place (she's the family friend who drew the short straw and welcomed me to crash at her place for a few days), and am now thinking that before I get into Stockholm and all the pics I've been taking of it, I should bid adieu, or better yet farval, to Orebro. And while I may be saying cheerio (look at all the ways you can say this, I almost feel like a von Trapp tyke), I'm not yet saying bye to my family. A) Doris is like family to my cousins here, so just add water and I've got some instant family. But B) I've a couple of my cousins and their kids are coming in over the weekend and early next week, so you haven't heard the last of them yet.
Orebro though is now a distant memory. Well, not really, I was there yesterday morning, and my brain doesn't suck that much. Yet.
I'm going to keep this entry relatively short. Okay, screw the relative part, it'll be short. So here's the recap on how the last few days in Orebro went.
Wednesday was the last full day in Orebro, and was pretty quiet. Minus of course the nyckelharpa concert that my aunt and I went to on Wednesday afternoon. Okay, for everyone but Charles who for whatever reason owns one of these, a nyckelharpa is the frankenstein of bowed instruments. Take a violin, no, take some 'roid abusing viola, add a whole lotta extra drone strings, bolt a bunch of I guess you could loosely call them keys onto it's neck, add a guitar strap, sling it over your neck and grab the nearest baby bow, and dar, you've got yourself a nyckelharpa.
Perhaps a picture would help.
Ah crap, I can't access the pictures I took. Doris gave me her computer to use for stuff as she uses a wireless fob for internet access, and I can't readily get to the pics I posted on Drive. Ah well, next time. Promise. Or go look it up, but I will be posting pictures.
Now, the main thing to note is that it sounds awesome. A really lovely instrument. Maybe it was the traditional folk tunes being played, but I get the feeling that they could have been playing AC/DC on this thing and it still would have had that nice Renaissance charm.
Origins of this beast of a stringed instrument? Apparently no one knows, though they date back at least as far as 1530, as there are apparently carvings of angels holding them. Harps weren't enough it would seem. My first guess would have been that the creator of such an abomination of an instrument would have been burned at the stake for weighing as much as a duck, but if the angels are okay by them, then perhaps not. All that said, the origin story may be out there somewhere, I haven't gone looking for it. I'm just taking the word of the nice man who played the thing and then was decent enough to answer all my questions. And I had many. I won't retell them here though.
Perhaps a radioactive harpsichord bit a viola. Ya, that would make sense. I wonder if it can also spin catgut any size?
I digress, and I said I wasn't going to do that this time.
Wednesday evening my cousins, aunt, uncle, and I went off to play adventure golf. This is the same golf that Noah and Jake went to the Friday evening when Joseph and I were expanding our knowledge of local beer. And you know what? I don't suck at mini-golf nearly as much as I do at bowling. Mind you, there's a mini-golf course across from the office I worked in for about 12 years, and we did have a number of important meetings there each summer. So I guess I'm allowed to not suck at mini-golf. Not that I'm very good mind you, but I was better then everyone else, and that's what really matters. Right? Right.
I'm sure I'm gonna hear about that one.
And Thursday morning we got up and came to Stockholm. By we I mean my cousin Joseph who was heading to the airport and heading for Hong Kong, and my Aunt Karen, who was kind enough to drive me the rest of the way, and help me get acquainted with the public transit system in Stockholm. Which I might say, is very nice. But I'll talk about that another time.
So yes, farewell to Orebro. I am very thankful for the time there, for myself, and for Noah and Jake. Time getting to know family you don't get to see too often is always nice. But they're also really wonderful, supportive people, and I think being in that environment made it easier for Noah and Jake to make the right decisions for themselves, and allowed me to do the same. So I am very thankful for that.
And of course, with family there, it's never really farewell to Orebro. Jake has already said that he will be back, and whether it's with him or at a different time, I know I will be too.
I still need to see the castle afterall.
Oh, one last thing. So, I usually don't know what to title these entries until I've written them, and this time was no exception. But when the title came to me I was reminded of something that I thought was really funny that we saw in Maine when we were driving home from Nova Scotia. I keep forgetting to mention it. Or perhaps I did and don't remember. Either way, here goes.
So we're driving along the highway somewhere in Maine, and we pass this pink sort of shack building place, only bigger than a shack, but kinda looking like one. This store was one of these places where you can drop off all of your empties - cans, bottles, and whatnots - and collect the deposit for them. The stores name was Nickelback Redemption Center.
Hanna, Alberta should make a note.
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