Highly treasured rubbish

For years I thought my beloved dinner plate set from my earliest childhood had been thrown away. 
As far as I can remember this was my special set. The deep plate for porridge and the time I only used a spoon to eat. The flat came later, when I was able to use a fork and even knife and fork together.
Some development for a toddler. 

Image my joy and surprise as I, two years after my mother went to Heaven, was about to empty and clean up my mother's pantry in the basement. The shelves are almost 1 meter deep, and against the wall on the highest shelf stood the two pieces of my dinner set.
I cried from joy and good memories.My mother had taken care of my "heirlooms" and hidden them so that no one could throw them away.
They are worn, torn and rubbish to anyone but me. 

 

The set is produced in Norway. There were actually three stoneware factories in my home county. Now they're all close and the rest of the production shipped out to second class products in China. Even Wedgwood has done that. When I see these plates, I remember a happy family benched around the dinner table, sharing stories about how the day had been. I would complaint that the food was too hot. My Mom would open the window and say, "Food, food, get cold, so Elise can eat you." It worked every time.

I guess I haven't found much rubbish along my hunt, but heaps of good memories. Thanks for setting me off on this hunt, Roan.

I link with Rubbish with Roan. Visit her for more interesting finds.

 http://rubbishbyroan.blogspot.no/

Rubbish, but lined with gold

 

 The garden shed of my paternal home has a story of its own. It's older than I am, and has served multiple purposes before it ended up as a shabby storing place for lawn movers and old wooden skies.

I still have the hope that it may be saved for future generations.

 

Even though wood is the most common building material in Norway, and we have easy access to wood almost all over the country, there is also a long tradition for reusing building material. Our shed served originally as a double outdoor toilet (no water) for the church to which my parents belonged. It was torn down when indoor plumming was available in the early thirties. However, the material was not torn away, but reclaimed for a hen house by the family who built my  paternal home in 1945. Food was still sold with  rations cards even till the mid fifties, so keeping hen was an ordinary mean of food supply.

 

My parents moved in as the builders emigrated to America in 1951, and since then the house and the shed has belonged to the our family. My mother was not keen on keeping poultry, so the shed became a storage house, and later on, when I was able to play on my own, it became my playhouse. Since the house had two doors (one for men, theo other for women), my friends and I had two semidetached houses and years of fun playing with our dolls, using berries and veggies from the garden as "food" for our "families". 

I guess I played there until I was twelve. 

I was a lucky, happy child.

The flowers are still blooming this second day of September 2014, even though it's been some years now since my mother had her garden tools in the shed.

Standing outside thee door of the shed, I see my mother as in a dream, always busy, always caring.I hope the shed will get a new revival. It so deserves it. Thank you for wonderful memories.

Linking up with Roan in Rubbish Tuesday.
 http://rubbishbyroan.blogspot.no/

FOR THE GOOD TIMES

Happy Birthday to daughter Serina and brother Kel.
I'm giving you the good memories from birthday celebrations 16 years ago.
This particular year we celebrated three days in a row.
First with the small, close family, then with the school class and last with children from the neighborhood.
Most pictures were captured by Gunnar. I had the opportunity to take a few too.
Serina always was this smiling blue eyed girl, with lots of love and laughter.
Not a thing she would not do to please her mama.

Yeah. Over the sofa and down in the splits early birthday morning.

My mother used to help me out with baking cakes, but I think this one was ordered special for Serina from the confectioner.

Cousin Kristine Maria, bro Kel, whose birthday we celebrated the day before and my Mom, still wearing an apron.

Mia was a part of the extended family, her grandson, Alexander is born Feb. 26th,will be 18 tomorrow.

Somehow I cannot find aunt Lilly. She used to be the most faithful of all celebrators. Kel, Mom, Gunnar's brother Harald and sister Sigrid, and the happiest of them all; my dad.
Yesterday Kel celebrated with going to work, Serina shall be with her roomies in Ireland and we shall have cake with my mother. Great fun Skyping by midnight though.

Birthday wish
On your birthday
You are a king
No other day
Will ever bring
A chance to fly
Without wings
Feel as if
You are on a swing
Higher so much that
No one can think
Give your life
A new tinge
Of laughter, joy
Beam and bing
So what are
You waiting for
Come on sing
Happy Birthday to You

RUBY TRIAL AND ERROR

Gunnar found old negatives the other day. What fun to scroll down memory lane. Serina was just past 4 moth when the public health nurse told it was time to start feeding her porridge.
In Norway the public health nurse is involved with children's
upbringing from birth till 18 years. Mostly welcomed advices, but they also make house calls to each new born baby to see that the baby is properly cared for. We felt that "our" nurse was very supportive.

Spoon feeding Serina was not an easy issue. She wanted her milk bottle, period. She literally grabbed the little tea spoon in her own hand and insisted on being in control of her own porridge.

The aim was getting a half teaspoon full in her mouth.
The result was porridge in her eyes, fingers, my hair, hand and the sofa. In Norway there's an expression, "To take the spoon in one's own hand". Our daughter did that from the age of four month, and she never let go of it.

Pictures and scanning by Gunnar photo shopping by me.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SERINA

Serina is celebrating her twenty second birthday with cousin Kristine Maria in Oslo. They have been friends from the day Serina was born.
Kristine Maria was four then, and came to visit us at the hospital.
Aunt Sigrid, Serina, Kristine Maria and me dressed for "herring jazz" street parade.
Serina is chauffeured by dad Gunnar to a birthday party in the neighborhood.
They both enjoyed the ride.

Imogen Heap is the reason Serina and her cousin are celebrating together. They are attending a Heap concert tomorrow.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BROTHER KEL

My only sibling and baby brother, Kel,turns 59 today.
I sat up till midnight last night to call him on the phone, "happy birthday".
We usually start celebrating our days around midnight, that way the feast lasts longer.
Only 15 months younger than me, but I've always felt like big sister to him.
On the picture we are standing just outside our home. We are dressed in clothes our mother sewed of worn out clothes from her and my dad.
I never felt bad about wearing them, on the contrary.
After I was 20 I still would ask my mom to make me new dresses, even coats.(New fabric then, of course).
Here we are just home from Sunday school, waiting for our mother's homemade dinner, genuine 50th.
A bit of snow, just like now. Maybe it was around the time of little brother's birthday.
Take care, my very best brother, (and worst too, he'll add).
Thank you for the good times, for the games we played, for the late nights we shared, for the music, for travels, for the stories we wrote together, for always being so gentle to Serina.