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Do You Talk to Your Horse?

Do You Talk to Your Horse?

I believe that all of us who have horses talk to them in one way or another. It feels completely natural – we share our time, our daily lives, and often our emotions with them. Sometimes, it even feels like our horses truly understand us, doesn’t it?

But even though we constantly communicate with them, we actually speak two completely different languages. We humans think in words and logic, while horses think in images and feelings. So, even though we can teach them commands and routines, have you ever thought about how much you actually listen to your horse? How it expresses itself – and what it’s trying to tell you?

Many people might say: “Well, I keep my horse’s stall clean, I feed it at the right times, and I bring it inside when it wants.” But are those truly the horse’s own desires – or are they simply things we humans have decided it needs?

Horses Communicate in Images

Did you know that horses think in images? And that you can actually transfer images to your horse through your mind? This means that when you’re with your horse but your head is full of everyday worries – like what to cook for dinner, when to pick up the kids, or that your car is broken – your horse might pick up on the images you’re unconsciously sending.

That’s why it’s so important to be mentally present when working with your horse. If you focus on your horse and your connection, you’ll soon notice a change. Your horse can feel when you’re truly there – and when you’re just physically present but mentally somewhere else.

What Does Your Horse Want?

A common concern is: “But if my horse gets to decide, it won’t want to work!”

But have you really tested that? And if your horse doesn’t want to work – have you asked yourself why? Is it because it’s lazy, or is it because it doesn’t see any meaning in what you’re asking? Maybe the work feels uncomfortable or stressful, maybe there’s a physical issue, or maybe the horse simply hasn’t understood what you want.

Horses want to connect with us, but if we only take and never give, there won’t be any real cooperation. Eventually, the horse stops expressing its own needs and just does what we say because it’s easier. We might interpret that as the horse being obedient and well-behaved – but in reality, it has simply given up.

Listen to Your Horse

If your horse doesn’t want to work with you, take it as an opportunity to pause and truly feel the situation. Is it physically okay? Are there signs of pain or stiffness? Does it feel safe in its environment? Or has it perhaps learned that training is always repetitive or unpleasant?

By being more attentive to your horse’s signals, you can create a deeper and more meaningful relationship. When your horse feels seen and understood, it will want to cooperate – not because it has to, but because it wants to.

So, next time you’re with your horse, take a deep breath, let go of all other thoughts, and be fully present in the moment. Tune into your horse, listen to what it’s trying to tell you – and most importantly, have fun together!

Wintertime and Skiing with my Horse!

How Should One Interpret This?

For me, it has always been important to have fun in whatever I do! It hasn’t always worked out, but it’s always worth trying, right?

When I had my North Swedish stallion, Kosack, I used to invite my friends to the stable during winter when there was snow. Nearby, there were some great hills—ironically, in a village called Slätten, which means “the plains.” It was the most hilly plain I had ever seen!

My idea was simple: I would ride Kosack and pull my friends, two at a time, up the hill while they stood on skis. Then they could ski down at full speed. We basically became a living ski lift! It was a big hit—my friends loved not having to hike up the hill themselves.

But what about me? I wanted to ski too! So one day, when I was alone at the stable, I decided to try skijoring with Kosack. The only problem was: how do you do that when you’re alone?

I didn’t want to risk pulling on his mouth, so I came up with a plan. I used towing lines and a swingle tree, then tied a rope from the swingle tree to a belt I wore. To be safe, I added a quick-release so I could detach myself if needed.

With everything set, we headed down to a field. It wasn’t easy getting there—leading a horse, carrying skis, and dragging a swingle tree all at once was quite the challenge! But I was determined to make it work. I only had an old pair of cross-country skis with tricky bindings, but that wasn’t going to stop me.

Once we arrived, I parked Kosack, got into position behind him, and started strapping in. I had just managed to put on one ski when Kosack got a little impatient and took a few steps forward. BAM! I went face-first into the snow since I was still attached to the swingle tree.

Trying to get up in deep snow, bundled in thick winter clothes while holding onto the reins, was no easy task. But being as stubborn as I was, I gave it another go. I got both skis on and was just about to stand up—when Kosack took another few steps. BAM! Face-first again!

As I looked up, he turned his head back toward me. I swear, I could see him laughing!

Three times I fell, but on the fourth try, I finally made it. I took off, wobbly but triumphant. However, maneuvering the long skis was harder than I had expected, so I fell once more. But I refused to give up. Eventually, I got the hang of it and even managed to ski all the way back up the hill to the stable.

Can you guess how exhausted I was after all that effort? But I did it, and it was fun while it lasted!

On the picture Kosack as a 3 years old stallion in 1981.


The Tragic Fate of My Poor Glasses!

A Lifetime Struggle with Glasses

Everyone has their challenges, and mine has been my eyesight. I’ve been half-blind for most of my life, and as a kid, I was often called “four-eyes” in school. I got my first pair of glasses when I was eight—and I hated them. Not because I wasn’t grateful for being able to see, but with a -7 prescription in both eyes and astigmatism, my thick “bottle-bottom” lenses weren’t exactly flattering.

Back then, glasses were expensive. The lenses were partially covered by insurance, but the frames had to be paid for out of pocket. Since my eyesight kept changing as I grew, I needed new glasses every year. My parents accepted this, but they weren’t too happy when I needed more than one pair per year.

Horses and Glasses – A Bad Combination

As a child, I was constantly on the move (I probably would have been diagnosed with some attention disorder today), and glasses were always in the way—especially when I started riding horses. They got scratched, sat crooked, and fogged up every time it was cold or rainy.

When I turned 16, I was finally allowed to wear contact lenses. Soft lenses had just been introduced, and it felt like a revolution—a total game-changer!

But before that, I had my own “methods” for avoiding glasses, which often led to disaster.

The Great Catastrophe at Rudesjön

One summer, we were at our favorite swimming spot at Rudesjön. Large rocks stretched out into the water, allowing us to walk a bit before swimming to a small rock island further out, where we would sunbathe and dive into the deep water on one side.

One day, the water was a bit chilly, but I didn’t want to seem weak, so I jumped in and swam off—without thinking about my glasses still being on my face.

The moment I was underwater, I realized my mistake. When I surfaced, they were gone.

It was the middle of summer vacation, and getting a new pair wasn’t easy. I was devastated—spending the rest of the summer half-blind was not something I looked forward to.

My friend Eva-Lill tried helping me dive for them, but it was hopeless. The bottom was either rocky or covered in thick mud, and the water was so murky that we couldn’t see a thing.

When I got home and told my mom, I was completely discouraged. But shortly after, Eva-Lill’s father arrived on his bike—with a homemade “glasses rescuer”! He had bent the teeth of a leaf rake, attached it to a long handle, and suggested we try fishing for my glasses.

I didn’t have much hope, but after a while—miraculously—he fished them up! I had never been so happy to see my glasses again.

Short-Lived Happiness

My joy didn’t last long. Less than a week later, I left my glasses on the couch—and my unsuspecting brother sat on them. They snapped right in half.

With tape and glue (duct tape didn’t exist back then), we managed to fix them well enough. At least I could see again—for the time being.

But fate had more in store for my poor glasses.

The Riding Mishap That Sealed Their Fate

A few days later, I was out riding my beloved horse, Fatima. She was always energetic, and as we trotted down a narrow trail, I suddenly got a large pine branch straight in the face—knocking my glasses off… again.

Somehow, I managed to ride home without them. Then my mom and I went out searching. For some reason, she let me lead the way to show where I had lost them. That turned out to be a terrible idea.

Because suddenly, I heard a crunch under my foot.

I had stepped right on my glasses.

One lens was now shattered, and the frame was broken.

A Makeshift Solution

Now it was a real crisis. Trying to see with one eye while the other is blind makes you completely dizzy. We improvised—replacing the broken lens with a piece of cardboard and gluing the frame together again. It worked—barely.

A week later, my dad arrived with my old glasses from home so I could survive the rest of the summer. They weren’t perfect, but at least I could see—somewhat.

And so ended yet another chapter in the tragic life of my poor glasses.

The photo is of me and Fatima! Without saddel and without glasses:)

Stable First Aid Kit!

Have a Well-Stocked Stable First Aid Kit – Be Prepared for the Unexpected!

I’ve been following discussions on Facebook about how veterinary costs are skyrocketing, and I’ve also seen frustrated horse owners battling with insurance companies to get compensation when accidents happen. Owning a horse is expensive, and it becomes even more costly when something goes wrong.

You can’t completely prevent accidents – horses are animals and can get themselves into the strangest situations. However, you can do a lot to prepare, such as ensuring you have a safe stable, good fencing, and a well-stocked first aid kit.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t call the vet when necessary, but there’s a lot you can handle on your own. One example is looking at what your horse eats. I’ve often helped horse owners investigate the root causes of illnesses or injuries, and more often than not, it traces back to the diet. We’re sometimes too generous with our horses, giving them too much concentrated feed, vitamins, or minerals. Horses are fundamentally designed to move and graze – not to stand in stalls for long periods. Lack of exercise or social interaction can lead to excess energy, and that, in turn, can lead to accidents.

Of course, accidents can happen no matter what we do. When they do, being prepared is key. When we get a minor injury, like a cut or a sprain, we usually don’t rush to the doctor right away. Instead, we see if it gets better on its own, maybe bandage it, and wait. It’s similar with horses. Over the years, I’ve learned a lot and have taken care of many minor injuries myself, especially since calling a vet every time can become very expensive.

That said, I know how frustrating it can be when your first aid kit doesn’t have what you need. For instance, it’s incredibly tricky to get something to stay on a horse’s leg. Bandages often fall off, and if they do, the horse can trip over them or step on them, which can make things worse. I’ve sometimes used duct tape and gauze in emergencies – not ideal, but it works when you’re in a pinch.

Recently, I came across Martin Goodman from Rheva, who introduced me to a wound plaster designed specifically for horses. I was thrilled! Protecting wounds on horses that live outside has always been a challenge. In the past, there was a product called Socatyl – a salve that hardened once applied – but it’s no longer available. Most modern ointments just melt and run off before they can do any good.

Now, I have Rheva’s horse plaster in my first aid kit, and I feel much more confident. The best part is that it allows wounds to heal without anything rubbing or irritating them, which speeds up healing and prevents infections from flies or dirt.

It’s amazing to see new solutions like this being developed for horse owners. This plaster feels like a real breakthrough and a big step forward!

The picture shows my young horse, who was a master at walking into bushes and branches that didn’t move out of the way. Back then, I only had duct tape to work with, but now I’ll be much better prepared! 😊

When all you want to do is ride!

When All You Want to Do is Ride!

When I was a child, I spent most of my time looking for horses I could be with – and ideally ride. I had become friends with Bertil, who owned several horses. In addition to his own, he often took in horses for training or driving. He also had mares come to his stallion, and they would often stay on his pastures all summer to ensure they became pregnant.

This meant Bertil had paddocks scattered all over the place. This was in Blekinge, near the Småland border, an area with lots of forests and rocks. You had to make the most of the small patches of grass here and there.

That summer, Bertil had taken in a young stallion he was training to drive. Everyone who left their horses with Bertil usually said, “That girl can ride them a bit too, to get them used to it.” Naturally, I was more than happy to help! If the horses had already been worked a little in harness, it was rarely a problem to ride them as well.

Bertil had been working with the stallion for a while, and I had ridden him a few times. He was super calm and willing. Then Bertil decided the stallion could go out to pasture for a while to let what he’d learned sink in. The pasture was quite far from my home, but I didn’t see that as a problem. I had my legs to walk on and all the time in the world!

The stallion was turned out on a pasture on the other side of Rude Lake, where we used to swim. I had almost three kilometers to walk down to the lake. Once there, I would take a boat we kept by the shore and row across to the other side – quite a long way, actually. From the shore, it was only about 500 meters to the pasture.

I had borrowed a bridle so I could ride the stallion a little while he was out on the pasture. Riding him in the paddock worked fine. The stallion was friendly and came over to me when I arrived. I put on the bridle, found a rock to climb up on, and mounted. He accepted it all calmly, and I started to let him walk a bit in the paddock.

At first, everything went well, but he wasn’t fully trained yet, and soon he started heading off in his own direction. His pasture buddy, finding this very entertaining, suddenly began galloping around. The stallion decided to join in the fun, launching into a series of bucks that caught me completely off guard.

I flew off in a wide arc and landed on my back in a patch of nettles and blackberry bushes. Luckily, I missed the large rocks in the paddock – otherwise, it could have ended badly. I could barely move, but I managed to get to my feet eventually. I was sore all over and covered in stings from the nettles and scratches from the brambles.

But my first thought was still: I need to get the bridle off the stallion so he doesn’t hurt himself!

Fortunately, the horses had calmed down, and I managed to catch the stallion without too much trouble and remove the bridle. After that, I hobbled back to the boat, rowed across the lake, and walked the three kilometers home to our summer cottage – bruised and battered.

When my mom saw me, she immediately knew something was wrong. I had to convince her it wasn’t so bad. Imagine if she had forbidden me from riding again – that would have been a disaster!

Bertil never found out that I’d been thrown. I simply told him that maybe it was a good idea for the stallion to have a proper break while he was out on pasture. When the stallion returned, I rode him again, and it went much better when his pasture buddy wasn’t running loose beside us.

We riders are tough, and I often look back on how much I’ve endured for my love of horses. But it has always been worth it!

The photo is from the early 70s where I am riding a North Swedish Stallion Hamn. The saddel is from the arme and not very comfortable:)

Do Your Horses Have Mud Fever?

Do Your Horses Have Mud Fever?

Mud fever and scratches are very common in horses, especially if you live in a place with rainy and mild winters. I’ve lived in different places and have noticed a huge difference in how easily my horses got mud fever.

For 20 years, I lived in northern Skåne, Sweden, where we had major issues. It was a marshy area with frequent rain, and we had wetlands nearby. Even though we had large, beautiful pastures, the horses often stood by the gates, churning up the ground and ending up standing in mud up to their knees. When we built our paddock paradise, we poured a large concrete area where the horses had their feeding station. It was absolutely necessary; otherwise, they wouldn’t have had a dry place to stand.

Even though we did everything we could for the horses’ well-being, they often got mud fever. The weather made it so that their legs were almost always damp, which caused the mud fever to become a recurring issue – something that was challenging for both the horses and us.

What’s interesting is that when you ask others – veterinarians, farriers, or breeders – for advice on how to prevent mud fever, you’ll always get different answers. Some say you should wash the horses’ legs daily when you bring them in, while others say you shouldn’t touch their legs too much because scrubbing the skin can open it up to bacteria. You’re left to experiment and find what works best for your horses.

I think I’ve tried everything: mud fever ointments that turned into sticky layers collecting dirt; drying the legs; washing the legs – but what worked best for us was Blåsten or Virkon S.

I discovered that if you mix Blåsten with water and put it in a spray bottle, you can spray the horses’ legs daily, which helped keep the mud fever somewhat under control. At one point, I even had to sell a horse at a very low price because he couldn’t handle our pastures. His legs swelled up like telephone poles, and no treatment worked. Thankfully, he went to a better place where the ground was drier, with healthier soil bacteria than we had. Keeping horses indoors all the time isn’t a solution either – it stresses them out, and they need to move to maintain proper blood circulation in their legs.

Why Am I Writing About This Now?

Well, good things happen in life, and there are actually people researching ways to help horses with this issue. Some time ago, I came across a group of people who had developed a unique product for mud fever. I was very curious about it, and now that it has been tested and proven effective, I can confirm that it really works!

The best part is that I am now sponsored by FHORZE, the company behind this product, and I can help spread the word about how we can finally get rid of mud fever. I know that many people need this product, so I plan to host giveaways soon where you can win “Muggfri.”

I’m truly excited to present this product, which I believe will help people and horses all over the world.

I got a horse!

I Got a Horse!

It’s not that uncommon to get a horse, but as the saying goes: “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” This refers to the fact that gifted horses are often old, injured, or otherwise unwanted – usually more of an expense than a blessing. However, it’s quite rare to receive a healthy, young horse with a pedigree. Here’s the story of how I was gifted a magnificent Arabian horse – completely free of charge!

I was working as a saddler in Mörrum, staying busy sewing and repairing to make ends meet. It wasn’t just for me, but also for my horses, dog, and cat. That’s why I always appreciated it when someone recommended new customers to me.

One of my friends, Ove, was someone I had met during leatherwork courses I taught for AOF. He also rented stables from me for his trotting horses. One day, he suggested that I contact a man named Tom, who owned Arabian horses. Ove thought Tom might have some work for me.

I called Tom, and it turned out he was extremely busy but indeed had plenty of jobs for me. He asked if I could pick up the items that needed repair, as he didn’t have time to drop them off himself. I didn’t mind, so I went to Tom’s place and collected blankets and halters. Eventually, I also started getting orders for custom halters for his Arabians since the standard ones didn’t fit. Arabians have much smaller noses, and the foals couldn’t wear regular foal halters as they were way too big. Later, I even got to make show bridles, which I absolutely loved – crafting such fine items instead of patching up old harnesses with baling twine and wire!

Ove, who had a great sense of humor, was happy that I was getting so much work. But he joked that, since I was doing such an excellent job, I should ask Tom to give me a horse as part of our deals.

We laughed at the idea since Tom’s horses were incredibly fine and expensive.

One day, I was returning a batch of blankets to Tom. I was running a bit late, and we crossed paths on the road as he was heading out. We both stopped on either side of the road, and I got out to talk to him. I remember it was raining quite heavily. Tom instructed me on where to leave the blankets and complimented my quick repairs. After discussing the blankets, I jokingly said:
“Well, Ove thinks I should get a horse as part of the deal since I’ve been doing such great work!”

I laughed, but Tom looked serious.
“Oh, does he now? Then we’d better find you a horse. But I need to run now,” he said before driving off.

I stood there in the rain, jaw practically hitting the ground. Had I heard him correctly, or was he joking?

The next time we spoke, I had to ask him.
“Did you really mean it?”
“Of course,” he replied. “Come by on Saturday, and we’ll find you one!”

I was still skeptical but decided to go. I thought it would probably be a foal with some defect or a lame horse.

When I arrived, Tom pointed out a young colt that looked like it had grown too quickly and was a bit scruffy. But before I could say anything, he shook his head and pointed to another horse.
“No, it’s this one!”

There stood an absolutely stunning horse.
“That’s Argentina’s foal,” he said.

I didn’t know much about Arabians, but I did know that Argentina was a mare he had bought from Poland a few years earlier for a six-figure sum.

And that’s how I became the owner of an Arabian horse. I named him Mandoza, after Mendoza, the capital of Argentina.

In the picture, you can see Mandoza wearing one of the halters I made back then.

Christmas in Australia!

Christmas in Australia!

I am constantly seeking new adventures, and my biggest fear is being bored!
In 1980, I traveled to Australia to stay there for six months. I had met a couple who lived there when they visited Sweden. They had previously worked at High Chaparral, where I also worked, and they were visiting old friends. Of course, I had to ask them about life “Down Under,” and before I knew it, I had been invited to visit!

That’s not something you say to me without me taking it seriously! I started saving money, and after a year, I had enough for a plane ticket. It felt like an amazing opportunity, especially since traveling to Australia wasn’t very common back then. We stayed in touch, and soon, the plans for my trip to Australia were in full swing.

A lot happened during those six months, but today, I’ve chosen to tell you about Christmas, not about the horses, since it’s that time of year right now.

It was a Swedish couple I was visiting, so the Christmas traditions were almost the same as I was used to. What didn’t quite match, though, was the temperature. Christmas in Australia falls during summer, and it’s very warm. You might not think about it, but it’s quite hard to get into the Christmas spirit when summer is in full swing, the grass is green, and the sun is blazing high in the sky.

Willy and Rosie did their best with Swedish Christmas food, and in the morning, Willy came in with an axe and handed it to me.
“You can go out and find a Christmas tree,” he said.

That was probably the strangest feeling I’ve ever had—walking outside with an axe in 30-degree heat to find something that looked like a Christmas tree. The result can be seen in the picture. When I came back with a bush, they thought I had done an excellent job, and Willy made a stand for it.

We didn’t have much to decorate it with, but we improvised and found a few things to hang on it, including a Danish flag I had brought with me for some odd reason. 🙂

All our efforts were completely ruined when the cat decided it was fantastic that we had brought her a toy. She climbed all the way to the top of the “tree,” causing it to bend, and then she let go, scattering the decorations everywhere. We had to gather the remains and put them back on the tree.

As dusk fell, I heard bells and jingles outside. I should add that we were living about 8 kilometers from the nearest house, so imagine my surprise when a truck appeared with Santa Claus and clowns! It turned out to be a couple from a campground by the sea, about 20 kilometers away, who had a tradition of driving around and handing out small presents to everyone.

I had met them earlier; they had a small shop with fantastic sea-themed items I had never seen before. The clowns they brought along were two Danish guys camping there (apparently, Santa Claus in Australia has clowns with him) who thought it would be fun to join the ride and meet people. Imagine my surprise when I got to speak Danish on Christmas Eve in Australia!

We had a great time, but it was definitely the strangest Christmas Eve I have ever experienced.

Wången in Sweden!

Wången!

I’ve already told you about my meeting with Bertil when I was a child. He was so happy to find someone who could share his immense passion for horses, especially the Nordsvensk (North Swedish Horse), that he started taking me along to various events. There were local evaluations, driving competitions, and other gatherings, but if you were passionate about the Nordsvensk back then, there was one place that was the heart of it all for breeders: Wången. That was where the evaluations for 3- and 4-year-olds took place early in the spring, and people came from all over Sweden. Yes, even someone from Denmark!

Not only was I from “abroad,” but I was also a girl! There weren’t many girls who shared an interest in Nordsvensk horses at that time, so I was unusual in every way. I was allowed to go with Bertil all the way to Wången in Östersund, which meant a train journey of over 12 hours. Naturally, all the Nordsvensk enthusiasts traveled together, and they had a lot of fun on the way. They had prepared well with their flasks, and there wasn’t much sleeping – but there was a lot of laughter! By then, I was a bit older and even got to have a schnapps or two along the journey.

I remember when we arrived at Wången. We had barely slept, and when we got off the train, it almost felt like we were still moving.

At Wången, people gathered from all over the country, and the variety of dialects was incredible. I was Danish, but by that time, I could speak fluent Swedish. Since I had learned the language and how to listen, I often ended up translating for the men when they couldn’t understand each other! Things usually got better after a couple of schnapps, and ultimately, everyone agreed that the Nordsvensk was the finest horse to ever walk on four legs.

I remember one man from Dalarna who had a wonderful dialect and a gift for storytelling. He would sit and humorously reflect on how strange it was that the evaluation judges – often limping with canes, wearing glasses, and using hearing aids – could stand there and criticize these perfectly created horses, saying they were “too short in the back” or “a little pigeon-toed.” We laughed until tears rolled down our cheeks!

There were so many debates and opinions when one of the stallions wasn’t approved, and the pride that radiated from breeders and supporters when a stallion was approved was incredible.

I visited Wången three times, and each experience was amazing. My love for the Nordsvensk remains strong. I think they are wonderful, versatile horses. I’ve been a lucky owner of three of them, and I would love to have another one someday.

The picture is from Wången 1979 when one of the 3 years stallions is showed.

Winter Memories from my Childhood and Sweden.

Winter Memories from Sweden

Sometimes, our family would visit our summer cottage in Blekinge during the winter. We had time off between Christmas and New Year, and if we were lucky, there would be snow. Snow was rare in Denmark at that time of year, so we loved going to Sweden to ski. Sometimes, the lake would freeze over too, and we could go ice skating.

One Easter, the weather was absolutely fantastic. There was snow on the ground, but the sun was so warm that I decided to try skiing in my swimsuit. No sooner said than done! It was great fun – until I fell. Then my clothes were back on in no time! My parents were sitting outside having lunch and enjoying the sunshine. My dad thought it was very practical to stick the schnapps bottle in a snowdrift to keep it perfectly cold.

Another winter, when the whole family was there, Bertil wanted to surprise us with something special: a moonlit sleigh ride with his horse, Hamn. It’s a memory that still gives me goosebumps when I think about it. I so wish we had had mobile phones back then, so we could have filmed or at least taken photos, but it wasn’t possible with my little pocket camera.

That evening, the temperature was around minus 20 degrees. Snow weighed heavily on the branches of the pine trees, and the full moon cast a bluish light over the forest. The snow crunched under our boots as we walked, and when you breathed through your nose, the hairs froze into ice. We had to pull our scarves up over our faces to stop them from going completely numb.

Bertil came to pick us up in the sleigh, with Hamn harnessed and ready, and we each got a torch to light before the ride. The forest was completely still; the only sounds were the jingling of the sleigh bells and Hamn’s occasional snorting. We rode through the sparkling winter landscape to Bertil’s house, where his sister Nelly had prepared pea soup and warm punch. I remember that nothing had ever tasted so good – and even I got to try a little punch. It warmed us up perfectly for the ride home through the cold night.

Even then, I knew I was experiencing something unforgettable, something that would stay etched in my memory for the rest of my life. I’ve been on sleigh rides many times since, but never again by moonlight with torches. It was truly magical.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a good picture from that night – it was nearly impossible to take photos in the dark back then. Here is a picture of Hamn from another sleigh ride. We didn’t have mobile phones in those days, so you had to wait weeks to get your photos developed – and it was expensive too!