| General Non-Fiction posted November 16, 2021 |
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Finnish Grandmother's Cottage.
Mummu's Cottage
by lauralumummu
I dreamt of her again last night! It was so wonderful to see her if only in a dream.
On Friday night we were all packed up, wearing our pajamas in the station wagon. There were four of us; Karen the oldest, me (Laura), Jack, and Joanne the baby. We picked up Mummu with all her belongings. When my dad saw her waiting on her porch, he would curse under his breath and complain about all the stuff she was bringing. My Mom would calm him down, and tell him we would fit it into the car somehow.
We fell asleep on the way, with no seatbelts in those days. My dream had brought back that feeling of joy and excitement. The school year was over. Holidays were beginning! We would spend two glorious months at the cottage.
Summers seemed much longer in those days. Mom and Dad would have to work in the city and we stayed at mummu's cottage by Lake Simcoe. We were looking forward to seeing the other kids that came every year. There was a small community of Finnish people that had their cottages on the same road. We would ride our bikes all day and go to places such as a field with an old apple orchard. We called it an "'apple fort.'' Climbing trees and eating the sour apples.
Other days we rode to a store a mile away we bought pop in bottles and played pinball games for hours. Sometimes we stayed at the lake swimming or sunbathing on the warm grass. Or we would sit in the shade reading comic books. My favorites were "Archie and Veronica" and "Dennis the Menace goes to Mexico."
Mummu worried about us but she prayed that God would keep us safe, knowing when we were hungry we would come home. In those days stranger danger wasn't an issue. Also, there were no such things as cell phones and she didn't have a landline so we couldn't keep in touch.
She was a great cook with her Finnish recipes. She never understood Canadian cooking. Mom would buy the groceries, telling Mummu they like chicken, steak, and pork chops, so that is what she made all in one pan. It all tasted the same, we ate it anyway. (Smirking to ourselves.)
The best dinners were her Finnish soups, beef or fish served with dark rye bread and butter. Breakfast was the best meal of the day! There was such an incredible aroma of her coffee percolating and the sweetness of Finnish pancakes with sugar sprinkled on top. Like crepes, so delicious, my brother always seemed to get the most.
Mummu's cottage wasn't like the cottages of today. There was no running water. We pumped water from our neighbor's well for drinking and cooking. It was cold and refreshing and had a metallic taste. She washed our clothes by hand outside in basins, using water from the rain barrel then rinsed them in the lake.
She heated water on the stove for washing dishes.
We washed in the lake and went to our neighbor's sauna. We had electricity by then, so we had two stoves. One was a wood stove that kept us warm on those cool nights. We had an outhouse attached to a tool shed that had a large red coca-cola cooler, where my grandfather kept his Red Cap ale. Beer wasn't allowed in the cottage. Surprisingly the smell from the outhouse was mild due to ashes from the wood stove and garden lime.
Mummu was an avid gardener and had a beautiful country garden full of wildflowers, peonies, and lilacs in the early summer. I can still recall that sweet aroma and hear the bees buzzing on those hot summer days.
She was quite a character and had a great sense of humor. I had hiccups one night that wouldn't stop so she accused me of stealing her jewelry. I was so upset the hiccups stopped and she laughed hysterically, that was her hiccup cure.
When she was older, she chased a raccoon with her broom out of the cottage. She broke her arm falling, as she was looking up at it in a tree.
In the evening she would play simple card games with us like Old Maid and Go Fish. She also loved Chinese Checkers.
There were deliveries to the cottage. Like milk in a bottle that had the cream at the top, the telegram newspaper, and the Open Window Bakery. I remember their blueberry buns as being especially good. But nothing compared to her homemade Pulla bread; a Finnish coffee bread made with yeast. Cinnamon and sugar were sprinkled on top. Pulla seemed to always be in the oven or there were braided loaves rising on the counter, covered with a damp tea towel.
Although we were quite a handful she never complained. She did say we drank a lot of milk. She had a strong faith, and kept her Bible by her bedside, and said prayers with us at bedtime. I remember hearing about God from her, at an early age, she sent us to a neighbor for Sunday school. We sat on a wooden swing and listened to Bible stories and sang songs like ''I will make you fishers of men.'' Then we had Freshie to drink and one candy.
Mummu was a big influence on my childhood, as she got older she couldn't go to her cottage as often. The last time I remember her staying there I was twenty. Eventually, she passed away and the cottage was sold. My parents bought a cottage on the lake close to there but it was never quite the same for me. Most of the Finns planned to retire to their cottages but their dreams were never realized as many died young and especially the men women rarely drove in those days so they had no way to get there. My grandfather built their cottage in the thirties but he died when I was ten.
I miss those wonderful carefree days but most of all, I miss mummu! I am so grateful for those idyllic summers and my sweet memories of her and the Lake Simcoe cottage.
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I dreamt of her again last night! It was so wonderful to see her if only in a dream.
On Friday night we were all packed up, wearing our pajamas in the station wagon. There were four of us; Karen the oldest, me (Laura), Jack, and Joanne the baby. We picked up Mummu with all her belongings. When my dad saw her waiting on her porch, he would curse under his breath and complain about all the stuff she was bringing. My Mom would calm him down, and tell him we would fit it into the car somehow.
We fell asleep on the way, with no seatbelts in those days. My dream had brought back that feeling of joy and excitement. The school year was over. Holidays were beginning! We would spend two glorious months at the cottage.
We fell asleep on the way, with no seatbelts in those days. My dream had brought back that feeling of joy and excitement. The school year was over. Holidays were beginning! We would spend two glorious months at the cottage.
Summers seemed much longer in those days. Mom and Dad would have to work in the city and we stayed at mummu's cottage by Lake Simcoe. We were looking forward to seeing the other kids that came every year. There was a small community of Finnish people that had their cottages on the same road. We would ride our bikes all day and go to places such as a field with an old apple orchard. We called it an "'apple fort.'' Climbing trees and eating the sour apples.
Other days we rode to a store a mile away we bought pop in bottles and played pinball games for hours. Sometimes we stayed at the lake swimming or sunbathing on the warm grass. Or we would sit in the shade reading comic books. My favorites were "Archie and Veronica" and "Dennis the Menace goes to Mexico."
Mummu worried about us but she prayed that God would keep us safe, knowing when we were hungry we would come home. In those days stranger danger wasn't an issue. Also, there were no such things as cell phones and she didn't have a landline so we couldn't keep in touch.
She was a great cook with her Finnish recipes. She never understood Canadian cooking. Mom would buy the groceries, telling Mummu they like chicken, steak, and pork chops, so that is what she made all in one pan. It all tasted the same, we ate it anyway. (Smirking to ourselves.)
The best dinners were her Finnish soups, beef or fish served with dark rye bread and butter. Breakfast was the best meal of the day! There was such an incredible aroma of her coffee percolating and the sweetness of Finnish pancakes with sugar sprinkled on top. Like crepes, so delicious, my brother always seemed to get the most.
Mummu's cottage wasn't like the cottages of today. There was no running water. We pumped water from our neighbor's well for drinking and cooking. It was cold and refreshing and had a metallic taste. She washed our clothes by hand outside in basins, using water from the rain barrel then rinsed them in the lake.
She heated water on the stove for washing dishes.
We washed in the lake and went to our neighbor's sauna. We had electricity by then, so we had two stoves. One was a wood stove that kept us warm on those cool nights. We had an outhouse attached to a tool shed that had a large red coca-cola cooler, where my grandfather kept his Red Cap ale. Beer wasn't allowed in the cottage. Surprisingly the smell from the outhouse was mild due to ashes from the wood stove and garden lime.
Mummu was an avid gardener and had a beautiful country garden full of wildflowers, peonies, and lilacs in the early summer. I can still recall that sweet aroma and hear the bees buzzing on those hot summer days.
She was quite a character and had a great sense of humor. I had hiccups one night that wouldn't stop so she accused me of stealing her jewelry. I was so upset the hiccups stopped and she laughed hysterically, that was her hiccup cure.
When she was older, she chased a raccoon with her broom out of the cottage. She broke her arm falling, as she was looking up at it in a tree.
In the evening she would play simple card games with us like Old Maid and Go Fish. She also loved Chinese Checkers.
There were deliveries to the cottage. Like milk in a bottle that had the cream at the top, the telegram newspaper, and the Open Window Bakery. I remember their blueberry buns as being especially good. But nothing compared to her homemade Pulla bread; a Finnish coffee bread made with yeast. Cinnamon and sugar were sprinkled on top. Pulla seemed to always be in the oven or there were braided loaves rising on the counter, covered with a damp tea towel.
She heated water on the stove for washing dishes.
We washed in the lake and went to our neighbor's sauna. We had electricity by then, so we had two stoves. One was a wood stove that kept us warm on those cool nights. We had an outhouse attached to a tool shed that had a large red coca-cola cooler, where my grandfather kept his Red Cap ale. Beer wasn't allowed in the cottage. Surprisingly the smell from the outhouse was mild due to ashes from the wood stove and garden lime.
Mummu was an avid gardener and had a beautiful country garden full of wildflowers, peonies, and lilacs in the early summer. I can still recall that sweet aroma and hear the bees buzzing on those hot summer days.
She was quite a character and had a great sense of humor. I had hiccups one night that wouldn't stop so she accused me of stealing her jewelry. I was so upset the hiccups stopped and she laughed hysterically, that was her hiccup cure.
When she was older, she chased a raccoon with her broom out of the cottage. She broke her arm falling, as she was looking up at it in a tree.
In the evening she would play simple card games with us like Old Maid and Go Fish. She also loved Chinese Checkers.
There were deliveries to the cottage. Like milk in a bottle that had the cream at the top, the telegram newspaper, and the Open Window Bakery. I remember their blueberry buns as being especially good. But nothing compared to her homemade Pulla bread; a Finnish coffee bread made with yeast. Cinnamon and sugar were sprinkled on top. Pulla seemed to always be in the oven or there were braided loaves rising on the counter, covered with a damp tea towel.
Although we were quite a handful she never complained. She did say we drank a lot of milk. She had a strong faith, and kept her Bible by her bedside, and said prayers with us at bedtime. I remember hearing about God from her, at an early age, she sent us to a neighbor for Sunday school. We sat on a wooden swing and listened to Bible stories and sang songs like ''I will make you fishers of men.'' Then we had Freshie to drink and one candy.
Mummu was a big influence on my childhood, as she got older she couldn't go to her cottage as often. The last time I remember her staying there I was twenty. Eventually, she passed away and the cottage was sold. My parents bought a cottage on the lake close to there but it was never quite the same for me. Most of the Finns planned to retire to their cottages but their dreams were never realized as many died young and especially the men women rarely drove in those days so they had no way to get there. My grandfather built their cottage in the thirties but he died when I was ten.
I miss those wonderful carefree days but most of all, I miss mummu! I am so grateful for those idyllic summers and my sweet memories of her and the Lake Simcoe cottage.
 Recognized |
#7 November 2021 |
My Finnish grandmother had a big influence on my life, I miss her and love her and can hardly wait to see her again in Heaven one day. Picture of me on the hammock and Karen, (my sister passed away in 2017) friends and my grandfather back of the cottage, front cottage us, Mummu's at the very bottom.
Senja Maria Juhola, was her name. She died in 1982.
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and 2 member cents. Senja Maria Juhola, was her name. She died in 1982.
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