Translation:
1782 a little girl is born, and she's named Stina. She will become my great great great great great grandmother. In the birth records it says she's born in the parish of Norn, in the house Norrby. July 29, 2017, we drive down to Norn to see what the village looks like.
We talk to a couple of ladies at the local museum, but none of them know where Norrby were. I buy a couple of leaflets about the village history, and we drive to Zackristorp, which is a short way away. That's where Stina's husband was born. I browse through the leaflets a bit, and in one of them I find the information that Norrby's name later got changed to Bromsens. We drive along the forest roads, and manages to find a sign that points into the forest. And there: in the middle of the forest, we find the ruins of the house where Stina was born. It's an amazing feeling, it's like the air got electric, and the ruins welcomed me home.
Wow what an adventure. That had to be so exiting to find the house ruins. I love how you displayed the journey and the softness that was needed for such a special moment.
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