My grandparents' old yellow, wooden cottage on top of a little hill, surrounded by fields, birch tree forest and more than a hundred-year-old, over grown spruce tree fence is like walking in to a different world, where time has stoped somehow leaving everything at its most beautiful state to repeat the oraganic circle of life with no interruptions from the world outside of the meadows and the green of its old world.
There, in the yellow cottage nothing is new but, yet again, everything feels so exciting because it's full of memories, some remembered and some forgotten, but always there for everyone to feel they weight. Old clothes, old films, old barn and storehouse, old funiture, old casettes and plates, old books and old windows to look out to the old yard. Even, the ever so flourishing garden plot feels like it's been there forever, feeding people of the cottage through times and keeping us alive with its golden potatoes, blood red tomatoes and emerald green cucumbers.
"Every summer we would go to the little, yellow cottage and drive through our neighbor's grain field in a little, yellow car to a shore of a pristine blue lake, where sand sparkles in gold and a family of swans lives amoungst a high, pale green grass."
Every summer we would go to the little, yellow cottage and drive through our neighbor's grain field in a little, yellow car to a shore of a pristine blue lake, where sand sparkles in gold and a family of swans lives amoungst a high, pale green grass. Then, we would watch tiny fishes as they try to take a bite out of our red painted toes while the water quietly ripples under the blue summer sky. And in the evening, we would eat creamy strawberry cake and take out our ruffled "little house on the prairie" dresses from dusty, leather suitcases and sit in front of an old television watching the Ingalls family's life on the hot prairie at six o'clock five days a week.
Sometimes we would sleep round the clock but, usually, sun would wake us up earlier, so we would still have time to eat breakfast in our granparents' bed and watch wind wave the room's white, lace curtains before the days work, which actually contained playing and swiming more than working. But other times, when grandmother asked, we would pic up bundles of little but long yellow flowers which then were dryed and hanged on the sealing so that the flowers would look straight to the floor. For some reason, this always felt strange to us but our granny said that "the flowers are there for decorations", so we took it as one of those things that only happens in our little, yellow cottage, such as having a neighbours' cat suddenly move into our cabin on a one summery evening.
"We would still believe a piece of chocolate cake
is a cure to all mishaps of life
and that a heart is still shaped like a heart
even though we knew it is just a bloody blob of meat."
Even when the water was pouring from the sky and a horrendous thounder storm wouldn't leave us alone, and when it was so dry that our well was almoust empty so that everyone was worried whether we would have enough water, we would still have fun. We would still believe a piece of chocolate cake is a cure to all mishaps of life and that a heart is still shaped like a heart even though we knew it is just a bloody blob of meat. Because, after the storm and the dryness there would be cold days and warm days, days to climb to the unsteady tree house, days to pic up little strawberries, days wear colorful hats, days to explore our dark attic and days to paint an old bike with finger paint...
Often, I feel like the little, yellow cottage was in many ways like our own "little house on the prairie". Like it wasn't just a series we would watch on tv, it was a life style that reguired a house in the middle of nowhere and two little people that were easily fooled into anything that had someting to do with dresses. And yet, mayde I was the only one dreaming it but surely everyone knew how special a place that yellow cottage was.
"...it was a life style
that required a house in the middle of nowhere
and two little people that were easily fooled into anything
that had someting to do with dresses."
And surely, this might be just a story, but I swear, we really did had handmade "little house on the prairie dresses" stored in old, dusty, leather suitcases.
Thank you so much for reading!
I hope you liked this more story like post.
Last but not least, a huge thank you to my cousin for taking these amazing pictures and my sister for filming behind the shoot videos as well as coaching me on modeling. This post wouldn't have been possible without your help!
Siiri
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