ICELAND'S TURF HOMES

It’s been a crazy weekend; two family birthdays and Mother’s Day complete with all the pomp and circumstance deserving of such momentous occasions.  Circumstances being what they were (mostly out of my control), I missed my Monday post.  Sorry to disappoint you!

I thought I’d follow this unprecedented event with more craziness.  This week will be a  walk down memory lane, posts that I wanted to share, but for one reason or  another they never happened.  I always have much more to say than I dare risk without my comment box filling up with laments: No, not another post on Salzburg; Is she ever going to move past Maui?  Okay, I know she lives in Illinois,  but really, I’ve seen and heard all I want to see and hear when it comes to the Land of Lincoln! Finish that basement and get on with your life/travel, or I’m getting on with my own life! 
 
So much food for thought; so little time.  

Voila! Your first tasty morsel in a smorgasbord of posts this week offers a tasty tidbit from the land of fire and ice.   

Tidbit is certainly the operative word when it comes to this particular turf home.  Yep, you heard right, turf home; soddies to the pioneers eking out a living in the Great Plains of North America a century ago.  Man's creativity is limited only by his imagination; and available resources, at least when it comes to shelter.  

What a cute little starter home!

This turf home housed a smorgasbord of people to keep the manor farm operational.

I know; the grass is not always greener even though it looks that way.  Iceland's turf homes are no match for Europe's castles or the Incas' Manchu Picchu.  But when you consider the  Inuit’s had their igloos, the Zulu their grass huts, the American Indians their teepees, there's no denying they all get high marks for resourcefulness given what they each had to work with.  And talk about going green! 
 
Iceland is the queen of green between her geothermal heat generated from sitting on the Mid-Atlantic ridge and all her hydroelectric power generated from an abundance of stunning waterfalls.   
 
Jimmy and I got to see Iceland up close and personal almost a year ago (plenty of posts in July 2012 for perusing if you missed it), but I’ve yet to close the book on this majestic island the size of Kentucky.  It’s just all too amazing and pristine and rugged, her people and beauty a constant source of inspiration.  Besides, with 22 hours of daylight to burn for the full ten days we were there, it stands to reason I’d have more pictures (and more to say) when it comes to the land of fire and ice.

This turf house called Laufas is located in the fertile coastline of the Eyjafjordur (the fjord of Eyja) near the cities of Grenivik and Akureyri in northern Iceland. 

This is just two of the four structures sitting side by side that were part of this parsonage.

Laufas has been a museum since 1948 and was last occupied in 1936.  Portions of the structure date back to 1840 when a priest and almost 30 other people called this place  home.  There is evidence of a church on the site since 1047, although the current church,  dedicated to St. Peter, was built in 1865. 

Colors just seem to be brighter and more intense in Iceland.

The manor was all things to all 30 people residing within her earthen walls back in 1840; it was hearth

Must have gotten quite smoky inside when cooking, although there were smoke holes for ventilation.

I bet they didn't have to mop the floors.

and home;

I could use this spot for inspiration.

Tea time. Where are the crumpets?

it was pantry, barn and

As the world churns.

Looks like a good spot for a few barn yard dances, too.

undoubtedly a bustling community,

This is as good as it gets. Pretty nice!

Not exactly a rainbow of colors when it came to clothing.

especially during the long winter months when daylight was as scarce as privacy.  Our crisp and clear summer day had delivered an abundance of daylight that had scattered into a brilliant displays of rich colors across Laufas from the ground up.   As I stepped into  the interior of the turf house the light melded into muddy gray shadows.

Don't have to worry about tracking in dirt or mud.

The bridal room (remember, this was a parsonage) did have the benefit of a window to provide a shaft of light and hope for the prospect of some joy in the never ending battle for existence in this beautiful albeit harsh environment. 

The view from the farm manor looking out across the fjord hinted at more of life's blessings,

as did this tiny cradle.

A child's surname in Iceland is the father's or mother's first name.

Faith was undoubtedly a big part of life at the parsonage. 

Prayer and the good book are often wonderful companions.

A narrow flight of stairs led to a loft for sleeping. 

No two-way street on these stairs.

Beds were tucked in under the eaves making for a cozy place to curl up and read with all that natural light.       

This mattress looked a bit lumpy. Of course, straw has a tendency to do that.

Most of the furnishings for the museum came from nearby farms.

I left Laufas with a deeper understanding and respect for the people of Iceland; and a renewed appreciation for just how beautiful and challenging the gift of life on this earth. 

Could that be a halo above this Icelandic woman's head? This is a parsonage.