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nike2422.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hetalia2012-02-07 11:12 pm
nike2422.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2012-02-07 11:12 pm
[Fanfic] Side Trip
Title: Side Trip
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nike2422
Rating: G
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Finland, Sealand and Sweden
Warnings: None
Summary: While traveling through Northern Michigan, a quick side trip brings a pleasant surprise.
Older Stuff
“Dad! When are we going to see this bridge?” Sealand whined again from the back seat of the car. They had been on the road for hours since they left Frankenmuth.
“We'll see it soon.” Sweden replied, seemingly unfazed by the boy in the back continuously asking “Are we there yet?” questions. He looked over at Finland in the passenger seat, worried because he looked like he was about to throw up.
Finland lay back in the seat, a sheen of perspiration on his face. He had eaten way too much of that enormous chicken dinner they served in the town intentionally designed to look like a very tacky Bavaria. They were running late on this trip due to him though; when Finland saw Bronner’s Christmas Store on their way into Frankenmuth, he had to stop and see the enormous warehouse-like store filled with room after room with every Christmas decoration imaginable. It was heaven.
“Not goin to throw up, are ya?” Sweden asked him, looking more worried.
“Eh? No, I’m fine.” He answered, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe off his face. It wasn’t a very warm spring day, but he still felt uncomfortable. He lifted himself up higher in the seat when he saw they were coming to a town named Cadillac. He immediately liked the large lake, and grinned when he saw a sign next to the road that indicated frequent bear crossings for the next seven miles. Finland did a quick calculation in his head for the kilometers and grinned. He liked this part of America, the further north they traveled.
Sealand was completely bored by the miles of pine and birch trees on either side of the car, only broken up by an occasional house or obvious campsite. “What are we going to see again? This is boring!”
“W’re goin to a town called K’leva.” Sweden answered, looking at the folded map between his and Finland’s seats.
“And why are we going there? Is there anything cool there?”
“Kaleva is a Finnish name.” Finland looked over the seat at Sealand. “I want to see it.”
They crossed a bridge with a sign stating the bridge went over the Manistee River. After about 5 more minutes they came to a crossroads. In the distance was a water tower painted light blue with KALEVA in bright yellow paint on the side. There was also a sign indicating they had reached their destination.
Sealand looked at the sign as they passed it. “Bottle house, what’s a bottle house?”
“I have no idea, maybe we can find out?” Finland smiled back at him. He was very curious to see this house now too.
Sweden drove toward the center of town. Finland couldn’t help but grin at the street names on the signs as they passed them … Tavi, Tapio, Kauko, Aura, Osmo … They turned onto Wuoski Street and discovered the main business district of the town. There wasn’t much, a post office, a building with a historical marker next to it that indicated the town had been founded by Finnish immigrants in 1900; there was an art gallery and a grocery store with KALEVA MEATS on the front in big red letters.
A sign ahead on the corner announced they had arrived at the bottle house museum. As Sweden stopped the car they all looked at it.
Sealand frowned at the house. “Happy home, why would someone want that on the front of the house?”
Sweden and Finland both stared at it, until it finally dawned on Finland that the house was made out of bottles. “Do you see that, Sweden?”
“I do,” he answered, slowly pulling around to the small parking lot along the side of the house.
Sealand’s mouth gaped open when Sweden parked. “Wait … the house is made out of bottles? That’s why it’s called the bottle house?” As soon as Sweden shut off the engine the boy jumped out of the car and ran over to the side of the house. Putting his hand on one of the bottles, he looked over his shoulder at them. “Mom, Dad! Come see this!”
Finland’s face burned bright red. He got out of the car and walked up to the house. “Sealand! Please don’t call me Mom!” He looked closely at the bottles, noting the name on the bottom of them.
“Most of em say K’leva on em.” Sweden mentioned out loud, also looking closely at the bottles in the wall.
“This one says Faygo, Detroit Michigan!” Sealand shouted, looking at the larger green bottle. “What’s a quart?”
Finland had wandered to the front of the house, looking at the words HAPPY HOME on either side of the front door. He found a curved, oblong amber colored bottle with the name Hiram Walker, Canada on the bottom that was part of a letter H. With a small smile on his face, Finland next made his way over to the two historical markers in front of the house.
Sweden came up beside him and looked at the markers. “Sixty thousand bottles.”
“That’s a lot of bottles!” Sealand exclaimed, running up to Sweden and looking at the markers too. “Where did he get them all?”
“According to this, the builder owned the company that made them.” Finland glanced at the smaller plaque next to the larger one; it stated the house had been placed on the National Register of Historic Places.
“Can we go inside? M- Finland?” Sealand asked.
“Yes, of course.” He was already heading toward the front door. Sealand and Sweden followed.
Inside they found a cozy home with hardwood floors and wood panel walls filled with antiques and some more information about the family. Finland learned that the house had been the result of the owner not wanting to throw away bottles that were broken and unusable for bottling soft drinks, he instead used them to build the house. The information explained that the Finnish idea of sisu was involved in the idea to build the house out of bottles.
From the room in the front Finland moved toward the back into the kitchen. This room was filled with more antiques, including a beautiful cast iron stove and kitchen tools from the past. Finland noticed a wall decorated with plates that had Finnish expressions painted on them. He smiled at them, happy to see something from his country so far away. He read the expression on one and grinned at Sealand. “Here is something you need to learn.”
Sweden nodded his head in agreement. “Thats so true.”
Sealand looked at the plate, “What does it mean? It doesn’t take long?”
“It means stop asking every five minutes if we’re there yet, or when will we see the bridge.”
“Oh.” Sealand replied sheepishly, because Finland’s words had made other visitors in the room chuckle and glance at them.
Before they left, Finland bought a few postcards. Sweden and Sealand had already left and stood outside waiting on the sidewalk.
“Want t’ get goin?” Sweden asked Finland when he emerged from the bottle house.
“Sure, let’s do that. We still need to cross the big bridge.” Finland said as he turned and gave the house one last look.
“YAY!” Sealand shouted, running to the car and waiting for Finland and Sweden to unlock it.
When they were in the car and on their way back to the highway, Sweden pointed to a sign along the road. “There’s a town here called Dublin.”
“Dublin? Really?” Finland smiled and shook his head. “And there’s a Paris not far from here too.”
Sealand grinned from the back seat. “You can travel the world in a day around here.”
Finland caught movement in the trees and saw a mother black bear with two cubs, moving through the forest. “You can see a lot when you take the time to notice.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Note: A short fic written as a Christmas gift for a friend. Google Kaleva, Michigan to learn more about the history of this little town and the amazing bottle house.
Author:
nike2422Rating: G
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Finland, Sealand and Sweden
Warnings: None
Summary: While traveling through Northern Michigan, a quick side trip brings a pleasant surprise.
Older Stuff
“Dad! When are we going to see this bridge?” Sealand whined again from the back seat of the car. They had been on the road for hours since they left Frankenmuth.
“We'll see it soon.” Sweden replied, seemingly unfazed by the boy in the back continuously asking “Are we there yet?” questions. He looked over at Finland in the passenger seat, worried because he looked like he was about to throw up.
Finland lay back in the seat, a sheen of perspiration on his face. He had eaten way too much of that enormous chicken dinner they served in the town intentionally designed to look like a very tacky Bavaria. They were running late on this trip due to him though; when Finland saw Bronner’s Christmas Store on their way into Frankenmuth, he had to stop and see the enormous warehouse-like store filled with room after room with every Christmas decoration imaginable. It was heaven.
“Not goin to throw up, are ya?” Sweden asked him, looking more worried.
“Eh? No, I’m fine.” He answered, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe off his face. It wasn’t a very warm spring day, but he still felt uncomfortable. He lifted himself up higher in the seat when he saw they were coming to a town named Cadillac. He immediately liked the large lake, and grinned when he saw a sign next to the road that indicated frequent bear crossings for the next seven miles. Finland did a quick calculation in his head for the kilometers and grinned. He liked this part of America, the further north they traveled.
Sealand was completely bored by the miles of pine and birch trees on either side of the car, only broken up by an occasional house or obvious campsite. “What are we going to see again? This is boring!”
“W’re goin to a town called K’leva.” Sweden answered, looking at the folded map between his and Finland’s seats.
“And why are we going there? Is there anything cool there?”
“Kaleva is a Finnish name.” Finland looked over the seat at Sealand. “I want to see it.”
They crossed a bridge with a sign stating the bridge went over the Manistee River. After about 5 more minutes they came to a crossroads. In the distance was a water tower painted light blue with KALEVA in bright yellow paint on the side. There was also a sign indicating they had reached their destination.
Sealand looked at the sign as they passed it. “Bottle house, what’s a bottle house?”
“I have no idea, maybe we can find out?” Finland smiled back at him. He was very curious to see this house now too.
Sweden drove toward the center of town. Finland couldn’t help but grin at the street names on the signs as they passed them … Tavi, Tapio, Kauko, Aura, Osmo … They turned onto Wuoski Street and discovered the main business district of the town. There wasn’t much, a post office, a building with a historical marker next to it that indicated the town had been founded by Finnish immigrants in 1900; there was an art gallery and a grocery store with KALEVA MEATS on the front in big red letters.
A sign ahead on the corner announced they had arrived at the bottle house museum. As Sweden stopped the car they all looked at it.
Sealand frowned at the house. “Happy home, why would someone want that on the front of the house?”
Sweden and Finland both stared at it, until it finally dawned on Finland that the house was made out of bottles. “Do you see that, Sweden?”
“I do,” he answered, slowly pulling around to the small parking lot along the side of the house.
Sealand’s mouth gaped open when Sweden parked. “Wait … the house is made out of bottles? That’s why it’s called the bottle house?” As soon as Sweden shut off the engine the boy jumped out of the car and ran over to the side of the house. Putting his hand on one of the bottles, he looked over his shoulder at them. “Mom, Dad! Come see this!”
Finland’s face burned bright red. He got out of the car and walked up to the house. “Sealand! Please don’t call me Mom!” He looked closely at the bottles, noting the name on the bottom of them.
“Most of em say K’leva on em.” Sweden mentioned out loud, also looking closely at the bottles in the wall.
“This one says Faygo, Detroit Michigan!” Sealand shouted, looking at the larger green bottle. “What’s a quart?”
Finland had wandered to the front of the house, looking at the words HAPPY HOME on either side of the front door. He found a curved, oblong amber colored bottle with the name Hiram Walker, Canada on the bottom that was part of a letter H. With a small smile on his face, Finland next made his way over to the two historical markers in front of the house.
Sweden came up beside him and looked at the markers. “Sixty thousand bottles.”
“That’s a lot of bottles!” Sealand exclaimed, running up to Sweden and looking at the markers too. “Where did he get them all?”
“According to this, the builder owned the company that made them.” Finland glanced at the smaller plaque next to the larger one; it stated the house had been placed on the National Register of Historic Places.
“Can we go inside? M- Finland?” Sealand asked.
“Yes, of course.” He was already heading toward the front door. Sealand and Sweden followed.
Inside they found a cozy home with hardwood floors and wood panel walls filled with antiques and some more information about the family. Finland learned that the house had been the result of the owner not wanting to throw away bottles that were broken and unusable for bottling soft drinks, he instead used them to build the house. The information explained that the Finnish idea of sisu was involved in the idea to build the house out of bottles.
From the room in the front Finland moved toward the back into the kitchen. This room was filled with more antiques, including a beautiful cast iron stove and kitchen tools from the past. Finland noticed a wall decorated with plates that had Finnish expressions painted on them. He smiled at them, happy to see something from his country so far away. He read the expression on one and grinned at Sealand. “Here is something you need to learn.”
Sweden nodded his head in agreement. “Thats so true.”
Sealand looked at the plate, “What does it mean? It doesn’t take long?”
“It means stop asking every five minutes if we’re there yet, or when will we see the bridge.”
“Oh.” Sealand replied sheepishly, because Finland’s words had made other visitors in the room chuckle and glance at them.
Before they left, Finland bought a few postcards. Sweden and Sealand had already left and stood outside waiting on the sidewalk.
“Want t’ get goin?” Sweden asked Finland when he emerged from the bottle house.
“Sure, let’s do that. We still need to cross the big bridge.” Finland said as he turned and gave the house one last look.
“YAY!” Sealand shouted, running to the car and waiting for Finland and Sweden to unlock it.
When they were in the car and on their way back to the highway, Sweden pointed to a sign along the road. “There’s a town here called Dublin.”
“Dublin? Really?” Finland smiled and shook his head. “And there’s a Paris not far from here too.”
Sealand grinned from the back seat. “You can travel the world in a day around here.”
Finland caught movement in the trees and saw a mother black bear with two cubs, moving through the forest. “You can see a lot when you take the time to notice.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Note: A short fic written as a Christmas gift for a friend. Google Kaleva, Michigan to learn more about the history of this little town and the amazing bottle house.