A way of spending time together

TEXT: HELENA SÖDERQVIST  PHOTO: MARIA OBED

Originally, they didn't plan on renovating. There was no time for that. But Conny fell in love, and passion is anything but rational.

Ard lived in the Netherlands and worked in Paris. Conny lived and worked in Arvika. She looked for a home for them both in Västvärmland and then discussed the situation from afar with her long-range commuter of a husband.

"There were two things I wanted. The house had to be situated by a lake, and I didn't want to do any renovating."

Ard laughs and doesn't look in the least bit disgruntled about the fact that his requirements weren't met nine years ago. And even though he wasn't there, he's absolutely certain of what happened when Conny walked into Åsen in Mölnerud.

"She didn't see all the work. She saw a vision. And she'd already made up her mind before she even mailed me the photos. I know this for a fact!"

Preserved original

The red Värmland farmhouse on the ridge in the heart of the village had never undergone any extensive renovation, so the original building was still there underneath the tired old surface, and with that came opportunities.

"Sure, there was a lot to do. But I brought an experienced carpenter here with me to look around. He reckoned we'd get most of the work done in summer and be in by autumn."

And that was what actually happened. The old farm, dating back to 1859, was restored bit by bit with the help of skilled craftsmen.

"We're renovating together, it'll be our joint effort. It's a way of spending time with people, and it'll take as long as it takes," explains Conny.

The associations whirl around as she talks about egg tempera and linseed oil. It's easy to be both impressed and fascinated by her knowledge and her decisiveness. Turning words into actions. Not just talking about the dream, but actually making it come true.

"You have to search, read, learn. My interest is what drives me. What I want and what I think is important can actually be implemented."

Of course, cost is a factor, but prices are being kept down by them doing some of the work themselves.

Save, not demolish

The farm's storage buildings are also included in their desire to preserve what was created by previous generations. And there are plenty of them. Ard puts on a pair of big Dutch clogs to show us the earth cellar. It's been recently restored and is fully usable.

The cowshed is situated along the road to the village, to the north. This outbuilding, 19 metres long, is pretty ramshackle and in need of a massive amount of renovation.

"This is the next big job on the list, and it'll take us months to finish."

Here, the building has to be saved. Not demolished.

Unites generations

Ard shuffles on through the farm in his big shoes, towards the barn and provision shed. And the shingle roof. The thousands of spruce shingles which he made by hand and which took weeks to lay. They'll protect the building for at least a century, and they themselves are a tale of years gone by and years to come. It's around here, in the opinion of Ard and Conny, that we see the whole point of constantly improving and preserving. Living sustainably and in harmony with the people who used to live here and the people who'll live here in years to come.

"Not just buying new things and consuming."

For Ard, the farm is a life project which unites generations. He's found his cultural roots here, gained social affiliation and feels completely at home in the heart of this Värmland village.

"Now this is our history as well. We've decided to live our lives here. This is a decision we'll never come to regret," they say.