There are two small houses built under the huge mountain. Rain never reach them, the sun shines in through the windows only for a short time every day. The winders are long and dark. The houses are small. You must bend to enter through the door.
The only information I have about the houses is that they were built 200 years ago.
I find old houses uttery charming. Romantic. Seeing ony the bright sides of life.
I have dreamed up stories of this little farm. Stories about several generations living here.
I am not going to share any of those now, but I have a challenge for you dear readers. Use the comment section to let me and all the other readers know about your story of these two small houses. Who lived here? How was life? Meals? Clothing? Social life? Dreams?
I look forward to read your thoughts.
Photos: a small farm 30 minutes from my summer village
Copyright: text and photos Britt-Arnhild Wigum Lindland
