On the roadside, spied through the windscreen, not sure.
I had to satisfy my curiosity. A clue, a suggestion of treasure. I had to check.
Unkempt Grass, good sign, one of the boxes have seen better days, good sign
It would seem I am at the post box for Rundsoveski Farm. Well it is a nice day I thought I would stretch my legs and take a stroll down yonder lane.
OH! Hello, hardly a farm.
C'mon
Lets Mooch
Amongst all the clutter, neatly stored clothes, clothes hung on a washing line.
I can only think, home ownership, is not big in Estonia, collective farms, I guess similar to UK tithe farming.
Once the sitting tenant dies there is no urgency or need for extended family members to do anything with what remains.
Just walk away and leave others to clear the detritus of former lives lived.
I find that quite sad
The thought that maybe someone still lives here was quickly dispelled when I saw the bog........
.......and the single solitary tin of spam in the cupboard
"The Swordsman" a 1978 children's novel.
Lotto for the Baltic States, October 2007, loser.
Family memories I wonder where they all are now..........?
....well I guess Ida is in the box
Hell doth await your arrival Mr G.
