Connecting

Hi again dear folks,

Göran's son #1 Oscar with family (The Oscarson's)

Time to tell you the story of the friendship between a concert pianist and my secretary. Back in 1949 the pianist married Alton, my granddaughter Amanda's son. They lived in Canada, but sometime in the 60's they went to Sweden to visit their relatives. My secretary's husband was one of them, only a young boy living in Hovdinge. A photo was taken of his uncle and the visitors and that photograph was found by my secretary 40 years later.

Trying to sort out who these people were was a bit tricky. The sister in the family remembered the place where the visitors came from as she had been given a book about British Colombia. After a while she also remembered their second name. With the help of her earlier research my secretary begun to understand how they were all connected, with me as their origin (with a little help from my wife and the Lord Almighty).

Searching the internet resulted in a notification on the Radville Guestbook in 2005 and three months later there was an e-mail adressed to Hovdinge. The missing lady was now in her nineties but capable of using new technology, most interested in knowing about the genealogy of her children. Even wanting to pay a visit again!





So in the Summer of 2007 she came and my descendants from both side of the Atlantic met to enjoy eachothers company at the farm of Hovdinge. E-mails continued to be written and friendship was developed. Therefore, thanks to the most helpful son of the hosts in California were my secretary was spending Christmas 2008, she was also able to pay the visit back to the Canadian lady, moving as a snowbird to Palm Desert in wintertime.




With love to you all,

Göran Danielsson.

Pickled Cucumber and Swedish Pancakes

Hi again,

Goran's daughter #3, Maria with family.



My secretary was much obliged to be welcome to share Christmas 2008 at the home of my youngest daughter Maria's descendants Jim and his Rosaly in Orange County. Jim's mother was Margaret and his grandmother's name was Ellen, the daughter of my youngest Maria. Alongside warm fellowship with the extended family she was offered pickled cucumber, swedish pancakes and other traditions prooving that the Swedish heritage was still treasured. A special treat was their homemade "polkagrisar", with ginger taste completetly irresistable if you ask me, heavenly delivered of course.


Disneyland on the very day before Christmas! All glory to the hosts managing such a treat! Rollercoasters, the Christmas Parade which was one of the kind, snow from above making all eyes go sparkling, at least until discovering it was foam. A good try though and the street sweeper told my folks that the Christmas tree was not for real either, a plastic one replacing the annual cost of £20 000 to import a proper tree from Canada.
Really, there is only one Magic Kingdom and it is up here where I belong! But nevertheless, it was a magnificent experience for my secretary and her kids and so was spending Christmas with hospitable relatives.


With love from your ancestor, Göran Danielsson, looking down on you, smiling. Wishing pickled cucumber would be heavenly delivered too!

Snuff box in Sacramento

Hi there family,

You might be wondering what in the world is happening up here! Well, let me tell you that nothing disturbing is going on in these heavenly places where I reside. But down on earth where you are living your short lives there was an earthquake in southern Sweden in December 2008, the first there in about fifty or a hundred years time, and in California there was snow stopping the air planes just about the same time. Just when my secretary was taking a leave to visit the kids of my sons and daughters to celebrate her 50th birthday! She was not to be stopped by force majeure, no way, and rather snow, than earthquakes! But she is busy, you know, always.

One of you readers actually got her going blogging again, for which I thank you.

Göran's son #1 Oscar with family (The Oscarson's)

Well, my secretary was to my great pleasure extremely well taken care of by my great grandkid Billie and her Pat living in the area of Sacramento. Billie's mum was Helen and her grandpa was my son Göran, calling himself John. My secretary has told me how remarkably patient her hosts were with her, her getting a flu coughing away endlessly. They even fed the homeless with the rest of a huge birthday cake. They allowed my secretary to look into private photo albums and above is a picture of my son Oscar in fur and his wife Lina. A proof of their worldly dignity I guess.

One of the pleasures of life in those days was having a pinch of snuff. I was not aware of my son having such a habit, myself preferring a smoking pipe. But my dear descendant in Vacaville has taken good care not only of my secretary but of the earthly goods of my son Oscar. Ladies and Gentlemen, my secretary proudly presents his snuff box:



Until next time, be blessed.

With much concern your ancestor Göran Danielsson.