Some of you might be familiar with the books I have written on my Swedish heritage. Others might not. If that is the case, let me update you on my writings.
Only a few years ago, I worked on a series about the Hansson family - primarily Astrid, Lucia, and Christin. These stories are complete and should be available on Amazon soon. (Astrid's story is already available). These stories cover Swedes living in America and making a home for themselves on new soil, learning a new language, and conquering the difficulties that arise.
But since I told their stories, I moved on to start telling of the American Gold Rush in California. You may have read my blog and heard things about that story. Well, it's been told... that is to say, it's a very big file on my computer. But I don't think I'm quite through with the Gold Rush, and neither am I through with Swedish fiction. In my most recent story, I am endeavoring to do both.
In my story on the Gold Rush, I worked to tell about the Hydraulic Mining that happened in North Bloomfield. I haven't ventured so far from North Bloomfield just yet, but I have traveled about a "day's journey" to Grass Valley and Nevada City to tell the story of a family who owns an underground mine there. But not just about that family, but about one of the girls who works for them in their household.
I really hesitate to say much more than that... but I am excited to someday show you this story and take you back in time to the turn of the century and show you about life then for an affluent family in the days of mining and their servants and employees.
And so, I'm going to leave you with a song... a very melancholy one, but maybe later I can explain it's relevance.
When I was on my eighteenth year
There were a beautiful boy that I
Him I wanted to own forever.
But this my thought was soon to
There was anouther girl who was put into his arms.
likens to a rosy flower.
Though I have treasured my father and mother
as well as siblings and friends who have loved me here
surpasses them all
Thank you for being my sole consolation
you for all the times I’ve rested on your chest.
In heaven shall we be