RUBY IN THE WHITE TOWN

When Norwegians talk about convoy, there's but one thing in their mind. The unarmed civil ships that went from America (Canada mostly) with vital war equipment through 5 long years during WW 2. Every 9th man died, the others were injured for life.I have nursed many survivors. Their stories deserve to be written in gold.This North Sea Cup is held in their memory. From Skudenes, voted Norway's summer town #1. http://www.convoycup.com/
Skudesnes, a former tall ship town is situated on the island just south of us. The old town still is like it was built in last half of the 1800. People still live in the white houses, and the red sea houses still are used for storage buildings.
It's a slow town, good for inhabitants and tourists.
We stroll along the narrow streets at least once a year. Best time to be there is when it's rose blossom time.
It has indeed been a good year for the roses.
This garden pavilion always makes me dream.
Narrow streets for pedestrians only makes summer days a thrill.
More roses.
The park is where people gather for all festive occasions. The lady of the Park, an ancient tall ship figurehead, is guarding the place and keeping outlook over the harbor.

This house is for sale. I've dreamed to have it for a summerhouse, but people deserve to have inhabitants living there all year.
A fire post, vital to the fragile old wooden houses.
Doesn't take much fantasy to understand that handicrafts are for sale in this shop.
Outside our favorite cafe, selling only homemade, fresh confectionery. Yours truly may be spotted in the right hand corner of the window.
I made this picture to honor Ralph. So far I've never been inside the aviation gallery.
Serina is negotiating with the sellers in this ambulant antiquemarked. Most of the porcelain and faience are Norwegian made by factories no longer existing. No need to say I have a huge collection. That's also why I can't have a dishwasher. The laze is bound to crackle in a machine. I use mine everyday and find it worth while to wash up by hand.
Have a wondeful summer still, everybody.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

MY SEPIA ROSE

The Rose

Some say love, it is a river
that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
an endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
and you it's only seed.
It's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give,
and the soul afraid of dyin'
that never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been to long,
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong,
just remember in the winter
far beneath the winter snows
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose.

Hosted by Mary, the teach
Learn more about Sepia Scenes here.

MIDSUMMER JOYS

Serina fronting her first work ever as a tiler. She bought, carried, dug and laid the stone tiles between Mom's flower beds.
Celebrating my mother's 84th birthday outside the old mountain hut. Brother Kel eating cake and fresh strawberries, my mother wearing a new summer hat, gift from Serina.
Other gifts, subscription on daily newspaper and weekly magazine with lots of x words, 8 sacks of earth and manure. All according to her wish list.
The Dubliners, named after James Joyce's short stories, held a wonderful concert on the keys in our town. I clapped hands and sung along, as did the rest of the audience.
Afternoon coffee in our upper garden.

In grandmother's garden. The two are really good friends. Serina has found wild strawberries.
Serina making tea from False Jasemine.
Gunnar's great shot from Cross Hill.
Serina and I met Lina Kristine at a Kaizers rock consert. Wow. Was it great. We sat back in a big tent. Had to stand on the tables to see the band and clap our hands to the heavy beats from the oil barrel.
Sundown at Stone Mountain where the troll Alfred lives.
Hiker girls picked their St Hans bouquet. Seven different wildflowers under your pillow will tell who you are going to marry.
Turid learned to bind a flower wreath. Somehow the children in Haugesund didn't do that.
Now they do. Serina and all her friends loved wearing flower wreaths.
Midsummer night is a big celebration in Norway. Every neighborhood has its own bonfire to frighten the witches on their way to Blocksberg.
My mother and Serina really made them frightened as they almost set fire to the whole garden...
The night is called St.Hans Eve , a celebration of John the Baptist. Hans = Johannes = John = Jean= Jo = Juan= Jan= Jon= ....
Turid gathered the gang to inaugurate their new living room with a view. Liv posing in the oriel.
Midsummer midnight sundown in Gunnar's glasses.
Fronting the beautiful "False Jasmine".

Dear Fellow Bloggers, I should at least comment on all the sweet greetings. I am truly encouraged and happy to stay in contact with each and everyone of you. Your well wishes and prayers are highly appreciated. To quote my dear, late uncle Leif, "I am by high courage." I will at least be posting some pictures in the near future. We have been doing a bit of traveling, concerting, celebrating midsummer and my mother's birthday. For two weeks we've been having South European summer temperatures. We have been walked barefoot all day, been relaxing at the beach and enjoyed the flowers and bird life in our garden. Soon it will be time for harvesting. I already have started making Black Elder flower juice. I have delivered all your nice congratulations to my mother. She's quite overwhelmed. Particularly by the wonderful posts Terry made her. I've had my right forearm in a bandage with a steel bow to keep the hand fixated. I've done a plenty of reading, and that's a wonderful thing. So many blessings this summer. Since both Gunnar and I can not use our hands for work for the time being, we've hired Serina to paint our house. She'll be starting soon. She has been with my mother for three weeks doing gardening, even tiling a path, wood chopping and chauffeur work. She needs a job, we need help. The good Lord is holding his hands over us. I was at facebook this spring, for a couple of weeks only, mainly to keep contact with relatives. (They are numerous like a rain forest, Serina says.) It wasn't my cup of tea. Too hectic and to many to relate to, just superficially. I was actually relieved when I signed off.
I love my Blogger friends though,and will try to stay updated.

Yours Felisol.

MOUSE WRIST

mouse wrist or mose hand usually comes from using one's arm wrong when using the pc mouse.
with my for ever ruined right hand, (after a double osteoporosis breakage ten years ago),
i should not overdo anything. that means fighting against my nature. i spray painted two chairs this week, and that did the final trick. my right hand doubled its size and must be bandaged to be stabilized.
the tiny bones are all in a mess like a bunch of mikado sticks.
serina is home and we are fine. 4 trope nights in a row(more than 20 celsius degrees by midnights)
we leave for sauda in a couple of days to celebrate my mom's 84th birthday.
may this day be our, mine and yours, best day.
from felisol

OUT OF FUNCTION

I've got a "mouse" wrist.
Will return when it's healed.
Yours Felisol

RUBY TRAVELING DREAMS

Summertime is travel season....

It used to be when we were working and our daughter lived at home....
Now we are free to enjoy the wonderful Norwegian blond summer nights and have our daughter home for holidays.
When the days are growing shorter and colder and Serina has left for college, then we can prolong the summer in Southern Europe.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

RUBY WROOOMS

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

Flee market in the club of Classic Cars.
For four generations on both sides of the family two and four wheelers have engaged and intrigued all family members.

This very Chrysler 300 1961 once was the "Directors Car" at Union Carbide's Sauda factory. There were three chauffeurs with nothing else to do than drive company cars.
Some cars it was, green colored windows, the roar of the motor echoed in the narrow valley, when the chauffeur came home for dinner.
And the fins,ai, ai what a mighty shark.
Serina used to have a Corvette similar to this for her Barbie car. Gunnar is the master of curves, angles, light and and..
My baby has a weak spot for the Ducati. Luckily her father says NO.
I'm willingly posing with the Plymouth.
It's younger and in better shape than me, though we both can be marketed as vintage.

JUNE BY NIGHT

It's June nights in Norway. The blond nights where the darkness never quite wins over the light. We came from my mother's in Sauda last week. The time was 1 a.m.
In driving by, Gunnar spotted the fog over Toskatjoenn. No blitz was necessary. Pure magic!

MY FAVORITE SEPIA

Your heart seems so silent.
Why do you breathe so low,
why do you breathe so low?


Hosted by Mary, the teach
Learn more about Sepia Scenes here.

RUBY GARDEN JOYS

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

It's rhododendron time in our garden
And poppy time too.
Serina has finished her studies for this semester and is now demonstrating ball playing as well as the lilacs, bell bush and the ever growing clematis.
Close up on the bell bush.
I wrote to Saija, we are fighting the thermometer. Since it often shows 50 Fahrenheit degrees, or less, I bring an old eiderdown to keep me warm.
Gunnar has become "The apostle of high spirits" in his Tai Chi group. You can see how it works.
Serina relaxing in our hammock. "Oh, Mamma, I've got freckles!" A wonderful heritage from Gunnar's beautiful, redhaired mother.
The Italian copy of Vogue is perfect for dessert.
Guess I should have saved this for "window Pictures" Our basement window reflecting our garden.

HOME IS WHERE MY ROOTS ARE

I want to go home and watch a sundown on Jaeren,
Down by the sea, where the waves beat against the shore,
'cause behind the brim of sea, far out in the atmosphere,
She will color the sky red with flame and fire.
My mother on her beloved Jaeren while the sun is coloring the sky with flame and fire.
Picture by Gunnar, who also chauffeured her on two Jaeren trips, while my dad was paralyzed from brain hemorrhage.

THEN PLAY ON

Some shots from the broad range of music, vital in our lives.

If music be the food of love, then play on.
William Shakespeare.
From my beloved Sunday School. Yours truly playing guitar, back, third from the left. There was a pinoplayer as well in this joyful assembly.
My mother playing the same guitar just a few years ago. I'm holding her written song book from the 1930ies.
My mother is longing back to her scenery of her birthplace. In the washing basement she has painted a song about her beloved Jaeren.
Serina always attended a ten-sing choir. Lots of fun and lots of work behind their annual shows.
This time they had been allowed to write their own roles. Serina's natural choice was Tinkerbell.
She seems to be a little shy as Drama Queen s acting out.
No 17th of May without the musicians.
Serina cried at her 5th 17th of May celebration. "Oh, what about the flags? Whet about the music sheets of the musicians."
God had mercy. he let the rain stop during the parade.
Salvation Army's band is always walking in front of the school were Gunnar was a teacher and Serina a student.
Serina posing with her favorite rock band. She was interviewed on the local radio, being a "blood fan".
In the crypt of St. Patric Church, Dublin. Original music to Händel's Messiah.
The story , the wonder of how Händel came to write Messiah, and the way it was first performed in Dublin with great help of Dean Jonathan Swift, is one of the most moving "true stories" I know of.
Arena,Verona,Italy 2001. The great Verdi Jubilee, we attended The Nabucco. Va pensiero or The Hebrew Choir still makes my tears flow.
Back then, a warm summer's night with a full moon and the public holding candles.
I know of no word to describe the magic beauty.
Serina, 13, waiting at the Café L'Arena before the concert.
Eleven friends went to London to celebrate the 110th birthday of Turid and Björn.
We all like jazz and went to the 100 club in Oxford Street.
Elisabeth and Haakan of course knew the band from Herring jazz back home.
Bob Dylan in concert, Oslo 2009. A civilized audience were charmed by "His Bobness" playing old and new stuff. The legend on his never ending tour. Go see him while you can!
Aunt Sigrid and her choir in The Church Of Our Savior, Haugesund 2008.

Sinead O'Connor in Vikedal 2008. She was pure Irish magic.
Serina and her cousin Kristine Maria rehearsing flute and piano. Kristine Maria is an educated piano teacher today.

Young Serina admiring dad's instruments, and the Vox in particular.

Serina managed to get an empty petrol barrel from her idols, The Kaizer's Orchestra. It should be played the way she does. With worker's gloves, a crowbar and a gas mask.
In Sauda Church last Christmas. Nothing is dearer than the old Christmas carols, sung together.
Bo Dylan on an outdoor concert in Stavanger last summer. Did the old man rock!
He shook the entire football stadium.
Serina and I walking home after attending a Midsummer night's Dream at Royal Festival Hall, February 2005.
My Cousin Björn Ljung, sun of my late uncle Leif is a poet and a teacher. He wrote a beautiful poem about The Two Old Ones and dedicated it to my father's memory in the local paper.
Jonas Fjeld composed a melody for it and while watching over his father dying in Haugesund Hospital, Björn wrote a refrain for the poem.
This spring Jonas Fjeld and The Chatham County Line from N.C. played in Haugesund Concert Hall. Gunnar and I were invited along with my cousin and his wife. If there ever was a moment of eternity was when they played Björn's song.
Who haven't fallen in love with Mikis Theodorakis and his music. especially Zorba The Greek.
Serina and I fell flat on a Greek restaurant, Serina being 6 years. Later we went to Crete and heard the music of Theodorakis all over the island. In Sauda, the little tiny factory town deep in the Boknafjord we heard Theodorakis live for two years in a row. The Easter of 96 and 97 the composer and conductor himself performed in Melting Hall 3 for 1200 people. Gunnar, Serina and I were there, tucked in scarves, mittens and thick jackets. An experience for life and further on.

Theodorakis dirige Theodorakis à Sauda

RUBY ANTIQUE

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

The Baldishol Tapestry (http://www.drakt.org/Baldishol.html)is the oldest made in Norway. Woven in the 12th century. The month April and May is depicted. The original is in a glass mounter in Art and Craft Museum of Oslo. We said hello to it, visiting our capital for the Dylan concert. The copy is embroidered by my mother some 35-40 years ago. Hangs in our living room. Another is in my birth-home. Very good memories attatched to these two guys. I found this picture taken by Gunnar some six years ago. My Dad is drinking water and my Mom has evidently been making food..in my home.
I guess she'd made a staple of her delicious waffles.
Up left is the picture she embroidered.
My Dad died two years ago June first.
I miss him so.

ANNIE'S PRAYER HEADING

THE WILL OF GOD WILL NEVER TAKE YOU
WHERE THE GRACE OF GOD WILL NOT PROTECT YOU.

CONSTANCE'S PRAYER

We pray for what we WANT,
but God we ask You to give us what we NEED!

RUBY WONDERS BY GOD & GUNNAR

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today. Don't forget to wish her happy birthday.

With me being the constant gardener, there's not much time for PC or photography these days.
With the help from God and Gunnar I have some nice garden pictures to serve for this Tuesday.
The tulips are already history for this year.
Some wonder they are though. Three packets of bulbs remain laying of the terrace till February had even started sprouting when they were put in earth.
The red and the lilac rhododendrons are setting our spirits on fire just now. South west of Norway is rhododendron climate. Mild winters and moist springs.
In the background the poppies are lurking while the scarlet rhododendron is whispering good night.
Some late bloomers on the terrace.
Even our Christ Thorn is full of blossoms. Never understand why we don't have the red berries in autumn.
The fur don't have much red in its flower, but is a part of the garden picture.
The Prince Apple tree is promising this year. Hope the bumblebees will soon arrive. I'd love some red apples this fall.
Yours truly admiring the blood beech south east in the garden.
Resting on a red chair under the Swede Apple tree.
God's own summer curtains are covering the windows of our living room. The clematis.


The clematis has worked its way around the corner up on the terrace.
The bell bush is also springing out these days.

I'll let Dylan and Springsteen sing to congratulate Dylan with birthday May 24th and teach Mary with hers May 25th.

RUBY MEN

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

Last weekend I attended a school jubilee. 40 years since nursery school. Gunnar as always was my companion and chauffeur. We made a trip to The Old Vicarage. Lots of interesting modern art displayed in the two old barns.
I found Gunnar on the barn-bridge totally absorbed by the view...of a rescue car!
Gunnar has taught me that photo is about curves, angles, light and if possible; action.
One unhappy spectator. How did he manage to drive the car sideways up the barn bridge?
Could the Falcon rescuer manage to tug the car around that narrow corner. Actually, I don't know. The man in orange decided he had to un-hook the truck and try once more from behind. I predicted a never ending story, only suited for enthusiasts.

I returned to the exhibition, and said hello to vehicles suitable for younger men in this farmer district.

RUBY GUITARS

Ars longa vita brevis.
I took about 20 pictures with manual camera handling.
Sunlight, overexposure, sharpness, oh,my!
I ended up with this fragment of my forty years old guitar and her sharp comrade.

I look at you all see the love there thats sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps
I dont know why nobody told you how to unfold your love
I dont know how someone controlled you
They bought and sold you.

I look at the world and I notice its turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps
I dont know how you were diverted
You were perverted too
I dont know how you were inverted
No one alerted you.

I look at you all see the love there thats sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
Look at you all . . .
Still my guitar gently weeps.
George Harrison.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

RUBY SPRING DUST

Husband Gunnar is teaching me to use natural sunlight adding depth, shadows and life to a picture.
Alas I forgot my mother's dust theorem;
"Spring reveals all your hidden sins."

Found this little poem to comfort me..and hopefully you.

Little Cosmic Dust Poem
John Haines

Out of the debris of dying stars
this rain of particles
that waters the waste with brightness..

The sea-wave of atoms hurrying home,
collapse of the giant
unstable guest who cannot stay.

The sun's heart reddens and expands,
his mighty aspiration is lasting,
as the shell of his substance
one day will be white with frost.

In the radiant field of Orion
great hordes of stars are forming.
just as we see every night,
fiery and faithful to the end.

Out of the cold and fleeing dust
that is never and always,
the silence and waste to come.

This arm, this hand,
my voice, your face, this love.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

RUBY TUESDAY SPRING

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

Spring to me is first and foremost picking White Anemones. I'm getting reports from family and friends when and where the first ones are spotted.
My mother even once came with an old fashioned milk bucket filled with White Anemones once I lay sick in bed. This Easter Serina brought home a tiny delicate bouquet of Anemones. The flowers are best found by a brooch and under shady trees. Yesterday I found a lot where one had chopped down a whole hillside of old pines. Prices are good for lumber these days.
May red knitted swaeter is from a firm called Oleannna.
Ole Bull, a violinist from last 19th century had a romantic dream of creating a Norwegian state in the USA. Since his first name was Ole, the state was to be named Oleanna. Giant fiasco though.
The knitwear factory is success. Most Norwegian/Americans buy one or two for use over there. That's also the Ruby for this Tuesday.
Sorry about the lousy cellphone quality.

Our most famous composer Edvard Grieg has made a wonderful homage to the spring.
I'd like to share it with you.

SEPIA PEACE

"She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impair'd the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

In spite of being 100% subjective, mother & photographer, I am bold enough to claim Lord Byron’s poem for this pic.

SEPIA SCENES IS HOSTED BY TEACH MARY

Learn more about Sepia Scenes here.
Get The Code

What big cat are you?

You Are a Snow Leopard

You have learned that you must rely on yourself, and yourself alone, to live a happy life. You are understand the world better than most people you know. You are very perceptive and intuitive. You need lots of space to think. If you don't get the space you need, you're likely to bite someone's head off. Because you are so thoughtful and solitary, people find you to be intense and mysterious. You're even seen as intimidating. What Big Cat Are You? DOUBLE CLOCK ON THE LINE ABOVE TO TAKE THE TEST We've had a good laugh and some interesting discussions, I dare say. Had never thought upon myself like this, but..they might be right.

I FEEL, THEREFORE I BELIEVE I THINK

Je pence, doce je suis, the philosopher Descartes proclaimed.
I've lately learned that people misinterprets feeling for thinking.
Our local newspaper "Haugesunds Avis" leads the way.

We are all appalled by the pictures from Gaza. In detail presented children being massacred.
That the Hispolla is cowardly hiding among civilians, is barely mentioned.
Nor the fact that they have been shooting rockets at Israel for 8 years.

We are shown crying mothers and dead children.
We cry too.

In Afghanistan Norwegian soldiers together with Americans have been killing civilians for years now.
Besides costing us an incredibly amount of money, mainly paid to the war industry, nobody really knows what or why Norwegian soldiers are fighting in Afghanistan.

We never get to see any picture.
We don't feel anything, therefore we don't think anything either.
The censorship is efficiently upheld.
We never even see a picture from a funeral of a dead Norwegian soldier.
So we simply don't think of the hardships young men are enduring in a foreign country.
We need to be informed preferably in pictures or film to be moved, shaken, appalled.
How many civilians lives have been "unintentionally" taken in Afghanistan?
We'll probably never know.
Neither will any bother to ask.

In the Gaza conflict we were flooded by pictures from that three months military intervention at the Gaza strip.
Nobody writing about the history leading up to the tragedy. Of our common guilt.
Just a violent cry for a crucifixion of the Israeli nation.
A local politician called the Israeli army one of the mightiest armies in the world.
There's 7,6 million inhabitants in Israel.

Our brains have been mismanaged with great skill.
Who's gonna give us license to think?

PAASKE- EASTER IN RUBY

Church Of Our Savior. Photo Serina
Norwegian Easter Morning is first Sunday after first full moon after the vernal equinox. This year April 12th. Last Sunday the celebration begun with Palm Sunday. This is called the silent week. Schools have vacation and shops are closed Tuesday, Friday and Monday.
Gunnar and I went to the National Gallery in Oslo where Munch's Shriek is displayed. Somehow it reminds me of Good Friday, by us called Long Friday. If you have heard Ian Gillan cry out on Jesus Christ Superstar, you'll understand why.
Time for contemplation and vacation. Darling daughter is home!
Traditionally lamb is the food for paaske (Norwegian translation from Hebrew). Serina asked for Tandoori Chicken. It's steaming while Gunnar is out at the airport, picking her up.
Church concert this year; The Savior by father of the famous Lloyd Webbers, William.

We always hope for a small Serina air.
Paaske also is candies in an egg, Serina's already almost empty, games and reading. In Norway crime is the must of Easter reading. Long, long tradition. Psychologists say it has to do with the nature of Easter gospel; lying, deceiving, covering up and murder.
Salvation and resurrection not included.
We have a box of Easter decoration in the attic. Hubby Gunnar wasn't able to locate it among the zillion others.
I found this cock in a drawer. He's placed among basel, rosemary and lemon balm.
Hopefully we'll take a trip to Sauda as well.
That will be a topic for next Tuesday.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

SPRING CELEBRATION

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

The magic folly of spring is sweeping over us.
The sun beats the dark by 13,6 hours to 11,6, and it will go on and on till the nights become blond again.
"Blond on blond" to quote Dylan.
I've been out hunting down the spring today.
This is what I found:
In Norway people go skiing and skating till late April.
Nice hobby for masochists.(Never thought that I should be a sports photographer, not even in the junior league!)
Football, the real one, is no leisure game.
It's more important than life and death, a famous English coach said.
Footballers come crawling out as soon as the snow is gone.
We were a trip at Norway's eastside this week.
From the plane we saw the landscape covered in a white coat of snow, except from the regularly green"stamps", the grass covered football stadiums.
Pope John Paul II said:"Of all the unnecessities of the world, football is the most important."
Personally I find football overrated, overpaid and totally blown out of proportions in the minds of media and average people.
Except for this single red team called Fire from Bergen.
I sing their songs, I watch their games on the telli, and if Gunnar's broken nose heals well, I hope we can see them live this season.


Emily Dickinson
A little madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King,
But God be with the Clown —
Who ponders this tremendous scene —
This whole Experiment of Green —
As if it were his own!

THE NAMING OF A CAT

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

My first name was not often used within my birth family. To my parents I was "Kitten"or "Kit", to my only sibling, younger bro' Kel, I was "Kitten Meow" with an emphasis on meow. Till we got a wonderful gray and white kitten of our own. Then a brand new cat-language evolved, and I became Felisol/Fel /Whel.
Till this day that's how my brother names me.
One might wonder if that's related to my choleric nature. I certainly do not climb the trees anymore.
Only seldom use my claws to scratch.
However, I still purr when being cuddled.
And I love to go hunting at night!

The Naming of Cats

TS Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter, It isn't just one of your holiday games; You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES. First of all, there's the name that the family use daily, Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James, Such as Victor or Jonathan, or George or Bill Bailey - All of them sensible everyday names. There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter, Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames: Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter - But all of them sensible everyday names. But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular, A name that's peculiar, and more dignified, Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular, Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride? Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum, Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat, Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum - Names that never belong to more than one cat. But above and beyond there's still one name left over, And that is the name that you never will guess; The name that no human research can discover - But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess. When you notice a cat in profound meditation, The reason, I tell you, is always the same: His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name: His ineffable effable Effanineffable Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

SPRING IN NORWAY

This wonder garden is situated in our neighborhood.
Iam lucky just to stand outside the wall and admire this horn of plenty.
Wish you were here .

ST.PATRICK IN ST.STEPHEN'S GREEN

http://workofthepoet.blogspot.com teach Mary is hosting this meme.
Sunny day in St. Stephen's Green, April 1981.
The young fellow lying on the grass telling me the thousand stories of Ireland; from St. Patrick year 461 till Bobby Sands dying in the Maze prison just as we were speaking.
He so cleverly told me about St. Patrick, and the way he used the Shamrock to convince the pagan Irish about the Holy Trinity, I felt it might have happened yesterday.
I fell in love with this magic Emerald Isle, and her men, who all have kissed the Stone of Blarney.
And I've got this longing to once more return .
The Lake Isle of Innisfree
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

2. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

3. I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

William Butler Yeats.

FOR SOMEONE SPECIAL

Fra mamma

SONG OF MY HEART

Don't we all love the songs of Fanny Cosby.
I listened through a lot on YouTube to find the right mood from the hymns from my childhood.
As there are no aunt Aase or Sven Odland outtakes, these will have to do the trick.

YOU DID NOT KNOW; OR DID YOU?

Which Grand Designs House Are You?

You are the Peckham Space Pod!

You're ingenious and just a little bit mad

Your practical, can-do attitude and ingenuity mean that the Peckham Space Pod is your ultimate Grand Design. This compact, clever design speaks volumes for your common sense, high intelligence and problem-solving ability. You also have taste that, while not always popular with the mainstream, is undeniably unique and 'you'. more!

Hi, Debbie. Instead of following up your meme, for which I actually don't have the capacity, I'll at least show you one side of myself I wasn't really conscious about. I follow the TV program Grand Designs by British Kevin McCloud with enthusiasm and great interest.

I could not resist taking this test as I stumbled over it at the internet.
The house I ended up with was the least pretentious of them all.
I like it though.
I also like to have a good laugh at my own cost.

Here is Gunnar's result. A little over my league. Together we are dynamite.

Bold and strong of opinion, the Yorkshire Castle is your dream Grand Design because it reflects all of these qualities and more. You are highly intelligent, well-educated and value the lessons of history highly. Your respect for quality and timeless design is reflected in this project, as is your sensitivity to the preservation of history.