Sveinnbirkir's Amazing Tumblr Blog

My name is Sveinn Birkir, which makes this my amazing tumblr blog, where I collect interesting images and (mostly) useless information from all across the Internet. I

This is also my visual scrapbook for my birthyear, 1976. Click on the 1976 tag to see all posts in that series.

If you are looking for the Spotify mixteip exchange entry it is here

If you have copyright concerns or complaints, please email me. Otherwise, enjoy!

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5 Dec 09

Slippurinn (via sveinnbirkir)

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4 Dec 09

pallih (via sveinnbirkir)

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Funny. I grew up around these same parts, and this photo pretty much looks exactly like every farm in the area. Many of these farmhouses were built from the same blueprint, issued by some governmental advisory board. I remember this scene all too well.

stuffparty:

Hofteigur í Jökuldal

For some reason I said some things about where I’m from in a chat with the guys over at Photophlow and it lead me to see if I could find a photo of the old farmhouse at grandfather’s farm. I didn’t, but I was shocked to see this very familiar photo pop up. I had no idea dad’s sister-in-law had a Picasa account but I’m very pleased that she does and uploaded this photo. So, that’s where my father is from.

The old farmhouse would be a bit further up from the one pictured but I think it was mostly ruins by the time I was a boy. My father was born in the old house (now, I’m rather vague on all this, so I hope I’m not getting anything wrong) in 1948 (well, I am certain of my dad’s date of birth). The interesting bit is that it was a turf house (this might help you with visualisation).

A bit more than sixty years ago, that’s it. All of dad’s siblings have university degrees and while my dad doesn’t have one he does train other pilots to fly Jumbo jets. I find that progress so remarkable. Although I don’t think a lot of people lived in turf houses sixty years ago in Iceland it wasn’t that unusual. The Industrial Revolution was, after all, pretty much a 20th century thing in Iceland. That I only need to go back one generation to arrive at a turf house is mind boggling.

I’m lying in bed with my banged-up PowerBook, blogging this wirelessly to be instantly accessible to millions. My grandfather milked his own cow, and although he already had a tractor then, he resisted my father’s urgings to get a four-by-four into the late sixties, I think.

I guess that’s my strongest connection back now: Stubbornness.

Edit:
There is one thing I’ll have to add. My grandfather worked hard on land improvements for his farm and he even built a hydroelectric power plant to supply his home with electricity. All of a sudden I really want to go back there for a visit. Just to look at the old places I remember from childhood.