The Old Home Town . . .

Yes, the old home town still looks the same.

Yesterday we celebrated Mother’s Day. In the afternoon we drove to both my husband’s mother’s grave which is here nearby and then also to my mother’s grave to put flowers on them. My mother is buried in Borgå/Porvoo, my old hometown. It is about 60 km from us. The weather was beautiful. I could not help but, once again, take a few photos of the church and the old river side storage buildings down by the river. The views are to me so familiar since childhood and school years. I grew up in a small village about 10 km from Borgå. If we needed to go to a doctor, pharmacy, buy new clothes etc we went by train to Borgå. After my first five school years in the village I went to school in Borgå. I went by train. From the train station we (I and other school children) daily walked, the about 1 km walk, over the bridge through the old town to the school. So the views, to me, are so dear and familiar.

 My geography/zoology/biology teacher lived in the yellow house with a balcony. She invited our class once for lemonade and buns.

My aunt lived in the yellow two stored house up on the hill.