When we had a festive dinner when I was growing up, festive because of company or someone's birthday, we always served a drink with the meal. It was called Dricka. That word also means 'to drink'. It was non alcoholic and it looked like beer. It was delicious. We had to walk from one end of our village to the other. The place had large wooden gates and it was almost impossible to open them if you were under ten years old. The buildings inside the gate were old and arranged the way farms were arranged in the olden days. To the right was the family building, opposite was the building for the animals, horses and cows and such and between these was the barn here hay and equipment was kept. Then the farmer owned ground outside of the village for grazing. There were several of these old farms inside the village and the reason for the heavy gates was protection from the Danes when the Swedes and the Danes decided to have WAR.
The woman who owned this farm and who lived on the income from the Dricka never changed in the years when I had to go to buy her wares. She was dressed in boots and men's work pants and a long apron which was more stained as the years went on.She had arranged to sell her dricka in the building across from he home. We had to bring a pail to carry it home. She had a counter and she would put her hands on the counter (they were as red as beets ),bend over slightly and say "What will it be today?" I don't know what else she sold but probably something that had become alcoholic. Her nose was always running and she had no tissue and she did not use her hand but her tongue was busy. I don't know what her name was but we called her Froken something.
The teacher in the last two years of standard education paid for by the government lived next door to this dricka person. There was no space between the teacher's house and the farm and the other side of the farm had a house up tight next door. I don't remember who lived there but it must have been difficult to live so close to the fly inspiring place so close by.
If you continued in the direction you were going, only a few more houses, and where the road bent, there was Niagara Cafe and a few feet from that you could bend over a wall and see Niagara Falls. I would always sneak over and try to see how much water was passing over the falls as high as about two bricks on top of each other. In summer time sometimes you could not see the trickle. And then I would return and do my errand.