From A. H. Tammsaare, “Truth and Justice I” (p. 24)
At first, Andres had to chase away all thoughts of the distant future, for ahead lay the bleak reality: dilapidated and rundown buildings, starting with the main house and ending with the cattle barns. The worst problem was with the chambers, which were only habitable in the summer. In winter, one had to squeeze into the main room, where in the corner stood a rubber-sealed stove like an elephant. In front of the oven mouth was a hearth with hooks for hanging pots, and a niche for firewood in the oven corner.
Sassi-Jaani Farm (open)
From V. Saar, “Ukuaru” (p. 54)
The wagon now rattles over the field ridge, approaching the river and the new cattle barn at Keldriauk with its tall stone foundation. We must quickly pass this much-maligned place to retreat deeper into the forest. The buildings at Keldriauk are beautiful—more so than at any other Mägede farm. The main house stands apart, its yellow cladding visible from afar. Perhaps it's even freshly painted for the wedding day?
Härjapea Farm (open)
From O. Luts, “Summer” (p. 146)
Across the street is a shop with a green sign, where no one is invited, enticed, or promised lower prices. Yet the store is packed with people, with a queue stretching into the street. In front of the store paces a sword-bearing man with an important stride. Toots, in his mind, begins to sing along to his steps: "Prepare, my soul, prepare..."
Lau Village Store (open)
From A. H. Tammsaare, “Truth and Justice I” (p. 176)
After court, the neighbors went to the inn. What wasn’t said in one setting could freely be discussed in the other. Conversation flowed better by the vodka glass than before the judge, for here one needn’t listen to the other side; everyone could shout as loud as they liked. That made things clearer, as each heard only their own opinion.
Kolu Inn (open)
From J. Liiv, “With You and Without You” – “Our Room Has a Black Ceiling”
Our room has a black ceiling,
black with smoke and soot,
with spider webs and cockroaches too,
it has seen much sorrow.
It has heard so many cries,
so much arguing and pain.
Oh Lord, have mercy!
Our ceiling is chained with grief—
if only it could speak.
Köstriaseme Farm (open)
From J. Jaik, “The Prophecy of the Rainman” (p. 13)
The mill had a third flaw, though it never affected the flour’s quality. In summer, the river often dried up. Though the miller patched the dam in the evening, only a trickle had collected by morning. The mill could run until noon at best, then stopped, heedless of coaxing. The owner climbed through the roof hatch onto the dam platform and saw the river was gone—only a black toad and two desperate burbots flailed in the muddy riverbed.
Kahala Watermill
From J. Jaik, “The Cunning Smith and the Devil” (p. 199)
Old belief has it that blacksmiths can never get rich, even if they earn well. That’s because, long ago, a smith forged the nail that fastened Christ to the cross. Hence, blacksmiths are destined to face hardships and misfortunes in life.
From H. Jõgisalu & L. Tihkan, “Tales from Old Läänemaa” – “Sweat Money” (p. 88)
Blacksmiths were vital in both manors and villages. Skilled artisans, they could even shoe a flea if needed. They forged all kinds of tools and necessities—scythes, sickles, plowshares, nails, fishing hooks, and needles. They shoed horses and repaired wagons and sleighs. Some even riveted steam boilers and built threshing machines and locomobiles. Though this came later, blacksmithing itself is an ancient and respected craft in Estonia and beyond.
Blacksmith’s Forge at Sepa Farm
From J. Liiv, “With You and Without You” – “Sea” (p. 99)
In front of our door, the sea of grain waves,
up and down it rolls—
a field of rye like a sea,
its waves shaped by wind, sun, and shadows.
Here I sway, in golden waves,
before our yard gate.
Even father, mother, and sister
stand watching at the fence.
This is my golden home,
my home beside the Estonian sea.
Above me, the Estonian sky so blue,
and the sun of Estonia shines warm and clear.
Jüri-Jaagu Farm (Seaside Gate)
From M. Traat, “Pommer’s Garden” (p. 6)
The school monitor rings the bell in the classroom. It's newly purchased, like the five-ruble bomb-shaped wall clock Pommer had to bargain for at the municipal office. When it comes to clocks, Jaagusilla school has no shortage—all of them showing Tsarist times.
Kuie School (open)
From H. Jõgisalu & L. Tihkan, “Tales from Old Läänemaa” – “The Windmill’s Song” (p. 16)
On a high base by the rocky, juniper-strewn seaside pasture of Väljamäe stood a small windmill. Sea breezes spun its sails so they rose and fell, singing their song:
“Whir-clack-clack,
whir-clack-clack!”
The sails didn’t spin alone—they drove the millstones and joined in the thundering chorus.
Ülendi Windmill
From H. Jõgisalu & L. Tihkan, “Tales from Old Läänemaa” – “Fence Posts” (p. 134)
There was always much work with fences. They had to be constantly repaired and renewed, as unruly animals often broke them. Angry bulls lifted sections with their horns, and pigs squeezed through the gaps. Then, there was nothing to do but grab an axe and start mending. In spring, hundreds of meters of new fencing sometimes had to be built.
Fences all over the museum
From L. Tungal, “Potato, Cow and Cosmonaut” (p. 20)
“Is a farm the same as a house?” asked Irja.
“Not exactly,” replied Aunt Leida. “A farm includes the main house, barn, and garden, and sometimes even a granary and sauna.”
“What animals live in the granary?”
“Mice,” laughed Aunt Leida. “Animals aren’t kept there. It’s where food is stored. In the old days, grain was kept in granaries, but now people buy bread from the store and have no need for one.”
Kolga and Roosta Granaries
From L. Tigane, “Grandma’s House” – “Grandma’s Well” (p. 27)
Grandma’s well stood in the middle of the yard. Looking inside, you could see fieldstones lining the wall. To draw water, a bucket was lowered on a long stick with a nail on the end. There were also wooden supports about knee-high for a child—without them, the water-fetchers might easily fall in.