Clutter house

Treasure house!, I think when I look around in my new home where Gauti and I moved one week ago. Or no, rather clutter house! That's hard to decide for me. I make my way through an endless amount of stuff which is stored in shelves, cupboards and boxes. The house itself is cosy and in good condition. It is 50 m away from Gauti's family's home and is around 10 years old. It is the former home of Gauti's grandparents. His granddad died a few years ago and his grandma went into a retirement home shortly after that. Since then the house has been empty and lots of stuff has been accumulating in it. Most of the furniture is very old, almost ancient. The beds we are currently sleeping in look like they are 100 years old, the slatted frame made of planks which look like someone found them on the beach a very long time ago. (Oh, and some of them break away with a loud bang during the nights.) In the lavatory we found an old gramophone. In a very old cupboard which is only hold together by its own wryness we found several boxes with letters, postcards and presents from all over the world. Gauti's grandma was in a letter writing club and had a couple of pen friends in far-away places like Australia and Nepal. (Oh my, I love to dig through those precuious letters and cards!) A typecase with teaspoons from all over the world. In the living room I found a box with a brown bracelet made of man's hair. I thought it was quite ugly but Gauti's mom got all excited because it turned out to be an ancient family treasure which she wants to bring to a museum for age determination. And then the books! There are several hundred books in the house, the Icelandic sagas in several versions, Icelandic nature books, "Íbúatal" (which is the ancient "Icelandic facebook": books where every single person who lives on this island is listed with information where and when he is born, his family, his work(s), and so on), and more. There was also standing a weird machine in the kitchen which is supposed to kill all bacteria in the air.
Let the pictures tell for themselves:

The living room after I cleaned it today and threw out the clutter. Notice: no Icelandic home without a piece of selv-painted art on the wall! (I don't know who the painter is.)

Kitchen.

Ever wondered how to hunt a seal? Take a look into the book series "Icelandic maritime folkways" where seal hunting, seal dissambling, seabird egg collecting, and many more (brutal) techniques are explained with detailled illustrations. I left the book series in the shelv in case a war cuts us off from the rest of the world and we need to rely again on the old hunting techniques. You never know!

And if you ever need to build an ancient Icelandic rowing boat, here's a manual.

Clothes pegs and September landscapes.