The Summer House

This is the summer house. It’s tremendously old, over 200 years old. It used to belong to whoever owned or ran first the paper mill, then the ironworks/blacksmith and then again the flour mills that were all located right next to it by the stream. I especially love the big lawn that’s perfect for all sorts of poodle activities and chillaxing. This is me under my favourite apple tree.

People who paddle canoes on the stream must carry their canoes on our little road right past our garden, because of the small water power plant. Me and the neighbour’s Australian Shepherds usually greet them with a chorus of barking. Mum tries to distract me, usually to no avail. It’s a very important job, in my opinion.