Ferienerinnerungen an Schweinersdorf - Geschichten_en_v3

Schweinersdorf Holiday Memories

Sometimes, during the holidays, I stayed for a few days in Schweinersdorf. Once, even during the school year, because I was allowed to ride the school bus, which stopped up there at the „Moar" farm. Life in the village was different from ours at home. At the crack of dawn, the rooster began to crow, and because the farm is so close to the church, I woke up every time the bell in the clocktower was struck. In the bedroom, it was terribly cold. I was not accustomed to that, because at home,we had central heating in every room. In addition, under the bed was a chamber pot. At home we had toilets both upstairs and down. Every evening I took a hot water bottle to bed. During the day there was a large pot of hot water on the wood stove and the water bottles were filled nightly in sequence. We were then tucked in with our hot water bottles under thick duvets. There were so many duvets on the beds that once you were in, you couldn't see out over the top.

I was always an avid reader, and in my childhood had devoured the stories of ''Hanni and Nanni'' and Dolly books. These were a series of books by Enid Blyton, about young girls who lived in boarding schools. In the beginning, they didn't want to go there, of course, but over time, they felt quite comfortable there, and got into all kinds of mischief. There was always mention of midnight parties at the boarding schools. The girls had hidden all sorts of delicacies in their closets and then celebrated at midnight dormitory parties with their friends. I had often told my cousins about them, and we held our own midnight parties. The pantry in the village of Schweinersdorf was always well-stocked and thus we had some of the same items they were able to hide in their closets, and we found it terribly exciting to get up at night and to organize a secret party!

The children were already integrated to the farm life, but when I was there, we had plenty of time to play outside. In the garden were two old school desks that had been thrown out. They were of one piece, i.e, the chairs and the table were firmly joined together, and on the table was a sharpener compartment with a lid, and grooves for pens. There, we enjoyed playing school. From the garden, you could also reach the neighbor's property or the roof of the chicken shed, from which we were able to pluck ripe fruit from the pear tree that grew in the barnyard. Actually, I do not think we were allowed to climb onto the roof without supervision, but we still did it. The one place we were never allowed to go was the bull's pen in the barn. We greatly respected him, as he was not safe to be around. Once a bull pinned Uncle Schoß up against the wall, and in doing so, broke his ribs. I remember that!

In the other garden up behind the farm there were a chestnut and a walnut tree, from which we gathered nuts. But the fresh walnuts tasted bitter. Right behind the farm gate to the upper garden, we had built a fort on the top floor of the wood shed. We had to climb up a ladder to get in, and then we sat together and talked and played and made plans. We covered the floor with old carpets. Stools and bricks were used for seats, and in the back we could look out at the neighbors through the broken wooden slats and climb out. Crossing the upper garden and climbing through the fence, we stood in the lane near the big lime tree and the old school house. Across the street was Grandfather's and Uncle Schoß's orchard. They grew apples, plums and pears. The apples were transported for several years to the Cathedral Hill in Freising. The apple juice was pressed there. For many years we came home to enjoy the best apple juice in Schweinersdorf.

When the horse ''Fox'' was still alive, we used to bring snacks on horseback to Uncle Schoß when he was working in the hop fields. I'm not sure if I sat on him, because I was getting really anxious about such large animals. Anyway, we were sitting in a threesome on the powerful, broad back of the 'Fox'', a Southern German draft horse, fox-colored with a bright mane and a white blaze: a paragon of patience and kindness. We needed no saddle or bridle, a rope was enough. In any case, once ''Fox'' slipped on the wet grass, and we fell downhill. We tumbled together with the horse. Thank God, no one was really hurt. Monika only whined a bit because she had somehow found her foot underneath the horse. But I think the shock was greater than the pain. We had great fun when we went with Uncle Schoß and Grandfather in the front loader out to the fields or to the hop plantation. The cargo area could be tipped forward and we always screamed and cried with delight when the driver acted as if he would dump us!

When the sow was brought to the boar, or animals slaughtered, we were not allowed to watch. Because we were so curious, however, we secretly watched from the games room on the balcony. When a cow calved, we watched the show and saw the calf being pulled. It was always a very exciting and thrilling experience. We also gathered the eggs. Mary didn't like to do this, because when she was a small child, a rooster once flew up onto her head. Ever since then, she has hated chickens. She was even afraid of my parakeet, as he once wanted to land on her head. I thought that was funny.

Every now and then we were sent to the back door of the pub to pick up some "Regensburg" sausages, a pint of beer or some snacks. I also went with my cousins to the shoemaker in Sixthaselbach. Also, there was a small general store in Schweinersdorf, called the „Mesner" which refers to his church job as "sacristan". We often spent our pennies, nickels and dimes there on sweets or small toys out of large, screw-topped jars. At the parsonage, there was even a library - that was really just an old cupboard full of ancient books. We once borrowed an ''etiquette'' book there. I remember because it said that girls and women should not wear trousers.
The cook and housekeeper was a pretty superstitious person and believed in ghosts and spirits. So we had some fun and hid in the church while she was there. We yelled, ''Buhuuu,'' and frightened her with shouts and noises. She took refuge in the sacristy and stammered on about ghosts. The next day she then told everyone in the village. We just snickered and didn't let on.


Written down in October, 2012 by Irmi Schaffer, born Wiesheu (*1961), Moosburg
Translation by Maximilian Grötsch and Peggy Chong

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