Early Spring Fleemarket

Some way Ukraine has become the country people in this region of Norway consider their responsibility. Several organizations and private persons gather money for our starving, freezing, poor neighbors. Nobody can help all, everybody can help one.  Fleemarkets are a poplar way of raising money.

mSerina and I went to a fleemarket this Saturday on a nearby island, Bokn. People there are famous for their collective spirit. They are mostly fishermen, oil rig workers or farmers, that means they are used to take responsibility for their neighbors in more than one way.

We are in between seasons. Ice in the salt sea, and flowers in the sunny hillsides.

There should be some red on the roofs, but I doubt you can spot them. I used my iPone cam on this trip.Three islands with bridges and two deep under water tunnels ( about 300 meeter below water) are  connecting our town southwards.

Houses for fisher boats and tourists by the shore.
  

Old, weatherbeaten roof.

Ancient civilization, a garden with an old pavilion, orchard and the first snowdrops.

 

 Serina resting after the "gold rush" .

 

The apex of the day, meeting the first snow drops of the year .

Home again displaying the catch of the day. A red latern, a vase, six trolls, a dozen books, Kosta Boda crystal, Pilgrim jewelry and other handy things for the home. Thank God; for the first meeting with the spring. 
 
Photo  © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Mother's Day and Shrovetide

Last Sunday was Shrovetide or Lent Sunday  celebrated.
Birch shrubs are decorated with colored feathers and green leaf shoots eventually burst out after a week in our hot kitchen. They are made and sold every year by elderly women 70 - 80 years of age. Gunnar's mother used to make them, and we buy some bunches every year in memory of her.

The second Sunday of February is Mother's Day in Norway. This was the first Mother's Day when my Mom wasn't here.I actually didn't look that much forwards to the celebration. But Serina did. She had prepared the most beautiful breakfast when I came into the kitchen. The white Wedgewood porcelain was decorated with a flower my mother once made of silver strings and pantyhose fabrics.
Strawberries are my favorite. 

 The table was wonderfully decorated, almost made for Ruby Tuesday.

 Since our car has been out of function the last three weeks there was no way Serina could buy anything but groceries. 
My card was made on her iPad. "Happy Mother's Day. Today the waffle hearts shall beat." Wasn't that a sweet promise?
We had a great celebration. Some naps in between delicious dinner and coffee, but the "day" lasted till 2 hours passed midnight. 

 Besides waiting upon me in every possible way, my daughter had also thought out a present from the colonial store. Irish beer. I hadn't tasted it since the two of us toured Ireland in May. It really was a taste of Ireland. There are still some left in fridge!!

 
Photo  © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Songs my mother taught me # 9

Air, snow and a carpet beater.

 Since my mother didn't have a washing machine or a vacuum cleaner when I was a very active and curious toddler, she had to think before throwing clothes to wash.
She had different ways of stain removing based upon the origin of the stain. Her thumb-finger rule was, always be quick to remove a stain. Don't let it fasten. Try cold water, no soap, first, except from fat, which can only be removed by hot water. Be sure to check out what the fabric can take from soap, heat e.t.c. If you don't know, make a try on a place where it can not be seen, if you should fail. A newspaper or even better a blotting-paper and a hot iron will suck up stains from candlelights. If you let the stain soak for awhile (over night) it will be easier to remove. Never, ever soak wool, it will shrink.(Thanks Mrs. Mac.)
My mother would always hang a used garment out for venting, even if it wasn't stained. Clothes and bed linens were "blowing in the wind" every day, summer and winter.  

Heavier items, like carpets and cushions were thrown into snow and beaten with a carpet beater, while they were dragged around in the white, snowy garden. They were turned and tossed and I remember my Dad had to carry them into the house, when he came home from the office. The arm chairs got a similar treatment on the veranda outside our living-room. No vacuumer could replace the snow and the beater. The chairs were eventually moved into my brother's room. We got to keep our rooms long after we left home. My parents would insure us, we were always welcome home, often bringing guests as well. The arm chairs were upholstered at least four times. Here sort of in between redressing.
Serina and I are busy wrapping Christmas gifts while bro Kel is in his favourite position, reading.

  

  Gunnar and I have help washing our home due to disabilities. They do not do carpet or cushion beating though. We still have to manage that piece on our own. It's actually frightening to see how much dust is left even after vacuuming.

Not much snow, but it does the job for the plaid and cushions.

Songs my Mother taught me # 8

I shot this picture almost two years ago.Gunnar was about to shovel snow from the veranda, my mother meant she could manage that herself.
My mother had been severely ill several times after nursing my father for five year. She had a stroke, had a severe heart failure, broke an arm and a hip and she had anxiety attacks. Even so she loved staying at home, there was her place on earth. Nurses came four times a day, she didn't like it, but that was the price she had to pay to live among the things she had created. The nurses didn't always understand her, but my mother demanded the right to be herself. She spoke the dialect of her birthplace, she had her Christian belief and her Bible would always lie on the coffee table. " I am a simple farmer girl, I love to dig in the garden, to watch things grow, and I like a good laughter, " she would tell the doctor, when he advised her to take it easy.
I think she's having a great time in heaven, being allowed to help out in God's own garden.
Perhaps she's exchanged some words with old Shakespeare too.She sure lived the way he preached.

"This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell, my blessing season this in thee!"


Photo  © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Gunnar & Shakespeare

 

SONNET 18

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
William Shakespeare.

This old picture of Gunnar made my life shine this week.
Only Father Shakespeare's got the words to fill in .

Songs my Mother taught me # 7

 When my mother married and had children shortly after WW2, there were shortage of almost every thing in Norway. For five years house, clothes and food supplies had been forced shipped from Norway to Germany, leaving us with crumbs and ration cards. Housewives were busy lining up in stores when special offers were on the market. My father had priority, because he worked in an office where he had to wear a suit, a white collar shirt and a tie. I remember my mother bought him suits with two trousers, so they would last longer. When the trousers were too worn, she snip them back to pieces, wash and iron the fabric and turn the fabric inside out. Thus she had material for clothes to my brother and me. Recycling was a must and not only a virtue.
My ski suit had red checkered fabric on the collar and the pockets. I thought I was very well dressed. My brother got an overcoat from my mother's old old winter jacket and had home knitted, thick tights made from  and old jumper. The trick with wool yarn was to range up the knitting, then wash it gently and let it dry around the long side of some newspapers. This way it would stretch out again.
My grandmother had 18 grandchildren in Norway to whome she knitted caps, scarves and mittens for Christmas. The sons in law got long, gray socks. My brother is wearing a grandmother cap on this picture.
 

 

My mother never stopped her handicraft labor. She would always have two or three projects waiting beside her armchair. She embroidered national costumes, bunads,which would last almost forever. Serina has a Hardanger bunad with pearl embroidered breast cloths, belt and purse. She used the same items from when she was four till the age of 12, one short and one long skirt, shirt and apron included. Now Serina has inherited my mother's bunad and also have one my mother made for her confirmation. I have had my bunad with lots of silver from my youth. This way we have dresses for Christmas, weddings, confirmations and May 17th celebration. Indeed a worthwhile investment.

Normally we ship at least 8 garbage bags filled with clothes to charity every year. I guess we have done so this year already. Nevertheless Serina is attending a sewing class just now, in order to recycle some of her grandmother's old garments. She's doing it from love and not from need. I think it's a wonderful way to honor and continue my mother's heritage.

Photo  © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Songs my Mother taught me # 6

Bicarbonate of soda, baking soda, (Natron)

" How do I use thee?
I can`t count the ways…
You scrub my tub, pre-soak my clothes
Freshen my fridge, won`t scratch stoves;
Eat odors in sneakers and diaper pails
Soothe bites and burns to stop kids` wails.
All this without harming our earth,
You give far more than my money`s worth." 
- Jane Fraser, Picton, Canada

The best waffles are made with baking soda, flour, sugar and sour cream.
My mother's recipe.

2 cups of thick sour cream
1/2 cup of sugar
A pinch of vanilla
2 eggs
A hint ( in Norwegian a knife's point) of salt
2 -3 table spoons of melted butter
Flour or spelt to make the batter thick enough, I'd say 3 or 4 cups
1 tea spoon of baking soda.
Let the  batter rest for 30 minutes so that the baking soda may work. 
If the batter is too thick add some lukewarm water, not milk.

The first thing my Mom did when recovering after her first brain stroke was making me waffles. She knew, it's the one thing I can't resist.

My Mom taught me to use baking soda (Natron) to get whiter teeth.
Just yesterday I found the same advice on the Internet.
Too much stomach acid is neutralized by baking soda.
It helps faster, more efficient and has little side effects  .
The expensive ones Gunnar were prescribed were not half as good, and had severe side effects.

My Mom in her last weeks on earth would over and over again ask for Natron for her gastritis. They gave her pills with none effect whatsoever. I bought a package of baking soda. The pains vanished.
My Mom had used baking soda for years and years. Our doctor says the salt in bicarbonate may bind water in the body. My Mom never had a problem with that. 

ME patients often have a slow digestion. Baking soda helps.
Why is it not more often recommended by doctors? My suggestion is, it is probably too cheap for the pharmacy giants.

Just now, when trying to find a good answer to Laureen, I found this Wikipedia article. Many pros and a few cons.
Read it.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sodium_bicarbonate

Carpe Ruby Diem

Buildings talk. They tell a history of times gone by, of the people who lived there and also maybe, of thing's decay and death.
This little, red painted, worn shed has spoken to me since I first spotted it in a sharp bend on the road between my home in Haugesund and my paternal home in Sauda. The road is so narrow and the speed so high, we kind of never got the time to stop for taking a picture. It tormented me. It's evident that the old building, once housing cotters for the great farm nearby, can collapse any day.
In November the weather was awful as we were driving from home to home. The windshield wipers hardly were able to wash away the rain flood. We drove at snail pace, and I got to capture a shot of my little vulnerable building.

The red shed telling
tales of love and labor to
people passing by
 

Photo  © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher


.

Somgs my Mother taught me # 5

Sleeping time
"I can endure anything if I only can sleep,"my Mom used to say. 
"There's a lot of healing in a good night's sleep," went another of her sayings.
In spite of that, we are a family where the females are affected by insomnia.
"Never think going to bed with cold feet", was rule # 1. 

Warm socks are a good solution. Mom making socks for the entire family Christmas 2011. She used left over yearn and would always knit the heels with double thread.

Hot water bottle, electric mattress heater, or even better; a soft adjustable electric blanket makes the bed inviting.
That is definitely a must. The bed must be a relaxing, welcoming place to be. Soft pillows, a thick feather duvet, a bottle of water, reading glasses and a pile of good books. For harsh nights I have added my own remedy; Astrid Lindgren's videos. They mellow my mind and focus thoughts on happy memories.

 The sleep of the righteous after a long day's work.

My parents would also ALWAYS  read one or two prayers and a homemade one, summing up the day and place it all in the hands of the Lord.
They had a book from which they read one or two chapters before we went to sleep.We got to choose the books.
In Norway in the early fifties there was housing shortage. That meant that we had tenants living upstairs like everyone else in the valley. 
That was a good thing to me. I shared bedroom with my brother till I was 7, and we really had a good time singing, guessing riddles and making noice in general before falling to sleep. 
People need people. I've always pitied babies being placed in a room of their own. Especially when the parents are telling not to go and look after when a baby cry." He's just being difficult, wanting  to get up". 
Goodness, gracious me, little children are not monsters. If they cry, they have needs, and should not be taught, that crying doesn't help.

My Mother taught me that. She practiced learning by doing.
Good routines before bedtime are a must both for adults and children.
No TV or homework the last hour before bedtime. A light meal with a mug of hot chocolate or milk & honey to drink.
Tidying up, folding the day away, half an hour on the bath, circling down to the bed.
Then the songs, the lullabies.  
Funny thing is, in Norway many choose on of the famliar lullabies for funerals too. They are so comforting.

 

This was one of my mother's favorite bed time songs.

Songs my Mother taught me # 4

The more I reflect I see how influenced I am by the many little details my mother taught me, nor by preaching, but by doing.
Nowadays we can buy fresh flowers imported from all over the world 12 months a year. When I grew up most store flowers were grown in Norwegian greenhouses. January was a rather naked month, the Christmas decorations were boxed away and outdoors snow and naked trees as long as the eye could see.
"Now I go outdoors and fetch the spring indoors," my Mom would say, wading in the snow towards the Forsythia shrubs.
Then, as a yearly, smiling refrain; " the only specie to blossom on a naked twig."  
January first is the day I fight the frost to harvest some Forsythia twigs for me and my friends.A week after the first buds and a few blossoms sprung.
I have spring in my kitchen!

Photo and poem © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Songs my Mother taught me #3

Here we go around a juniper bush is a Christmas feast song where the children are singing about laundry. So do we do when we wash our cloths, rinse our cloths, hand up our cloths, roll our cloth, iron our cloth, wash our floor and go to church and home again.
Laundry was supposed to be done Monday morning, or late Sunday evening really. My mother was constant about keeping the Sunday holy, but before bedtime Sunday night she would put very dirty clothes to soaking the night over, likewise the whitewash to cook the night over. Next day she would scrub by hand every single item and put them over in rinse tanks, 3 at least, before hanging it out to dry in open air. 

 My mother had two children in 15 months and an endless row of diapers.
There was no folding, there were stretching, rolling and ironing. 
Except for wool of course.
My mother taught me how to handle wool. Later on when we too had washing machine and dry tumbler, she would never, ever put wool in a machine. Even the bought wool under wear was washed by hand. Why??

 Till her last year at home my mother preferred drying under open air to tumbler. She fell, of course, but that did not stop her.

Wool is both strong and delicate at the same time. If you wash it in say, warm water and rinse it in cold water, which will happen in a machine, it will inevitably shrink. Wool must be washed and rinsed in the same lukewarm temperature.
If you shrub, rub or centrifugate a wool jumper it will shrink, get knotty and out of shape.

Outside the home where I grew up in my red sweater.

After you have gently crushed and squeezed the wool garment, clean in mild, liquid soap or shampoo,rinse it at least three times in water of the same temperature. Never use fabric softener, but you may need a teaspoon of 7% vinegar if you are afraid the colors will bleed.
Then find a bath towel, lay e,t,c, the pullover on  the towel, fold and roll it hard till its about dry. Especially jumpers should be dried lying. If you hang them, they tend to go out of shape. When dry, you may steam iron gently with a cloth between the iron and the jumper.
Some yearn says the are mashinewashable, believe me, they are not. Some machines claim to have a wool program. Believe me, it doesn't work.
How can I be so persistent? Because I didn't listen to my mother and ruined beautiful, home knitted garments.
Even at the home where my mother spent her last months they managed to ruin a beautiful, bought 500 dollars jacket of wool and silk. In a machine.
I've chosen to illustrate my point by showing a red jumper my mother knitted to me when I was two years old.

Mr. Nisse likes reading. Like me he's fond of John Cowart's books. And the sweater is still red. 

I used it till I grew out of it, then I passed it to toddler Serina and some years thereafter the youlenisse (Santa Claus Norwegian style) was dressed up in the same sweater.
He's still going strong. the jumper had 60 years jubilee this winter.

Since the jumper is red I also sign this up for Ruby Tuesday 2. 

 Photo and poem © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Songs my Mother taught me #2

My mother actually came to my birthplace, Sauda, to help out a friend. There she fell in love with my father, married and settled down. They loved each other dearly all of their days, but there was a but. My mother never really adjusted to the strange scenery of Sauda, situated at the end of a narrow fjord, surrounded by steep mountains. She would always long home to Jaeren, where sea and sky are meeting, where she could dream of The Land of Elves by sunset time.

 I want to go home and see a sundown at Jaeren
 
My mother loved the color blue, blue sky, blue sea, blue flowers, blue clothes.. and she had the most wonderful blue eyes.

Drink drinks of cold water

Once she decided that her gray brick walled washroom needed some color. She jumped on her cycle and bought a beautiful, expensive, blue mural painting. The work was finished before my father came home from work, and the result was rather dark and gloomy.
I guess we all laughed at her, but that didn't stop my mother.

Under the tap crane, Be prepared.
 With white paint and a old brush she painted songs, birds, flowers and funny verse and thus made her washroom both funny and so very personal. Gunnar saw the art in her work and shot lots of photos with his old camera.

 Innocent as doves
Gunnar made us stop laughing and see what a brave, creative soul my mother really was. we were used to her painting elaborate flowers and birds on fine china. I guess she took us by surprise, and she won.

 Up under the roof. "Seagull just tell what you see."

While decorating the room, she never spoke a word. We were busy outside in the bright summer garden.

 Jesus in the wash cellar  
Naivism at it's best. Honest and made in a hurry. I love it.

 Look at the birds, they do not harvest.

What did I learn? If you fail, don't give up, be brave and smile to the world and the world will be smiling back. 

Songs my Mother taught me # 1

The idea to this blog theme came from Mrs. Mac. She's a Unikum in so many ways, especially what household, cooking, gardening, nature, education and other crafts are concerned.Often, when reading her articles, I remember, this is how my mother used to do it.
I've decided, my Mom's skills are too many and too special to be forgotten, so I've set out to make some posts to honor her.
Most of the pictures in these blogs are made by husband Gunnar, daughter Serina or myself.
This picture is taken in the home where I grew up and my mother lived till 9 months before she died, December 13th 2012.
I'm holding her hand written songbook, where her Christian songs were written down. She used to sing and play guitar in the church choir from the age of 14.
Here's one of her favorites.

 

Last Rubyday of the the year 2012

Fine feathered friends
singing
"Baby it's cold outside" 
on our Christmas table.
Happy New Year my Ruby Tuesday Friends.

Photo and poem © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

End of a season

 The Christmas tree basket is weaved by my mother.
December has come to an end.This been has been a special, memorable, painful and joyful month to our little family.I am usually strict that Advent celebration shall not take place until December first. This year I made an exception. My Mom was longing for and looking forwards to Christmas from the end of September. She was ill and had several antibiotics cures this autumn, but as soon as she was out of bed, she started knitting socks for the nurses at the home where she spent her last days.She madded plans for gifts, food and clothing for the big coming feast. At the end of November we decorated her room with a little Christmas tree, candles, red embroidered tablecloths, poinsettias ( Christmas Stars in Norway), youlenisse and angels.She was thrilled. By my birthday the eighth, we returned to decorate the home in Sauda for a great Christmas celebration, the tree, dinner and coffee table were laid and all the old, familiar decorations, the manger, the lights and wreaths, star in the window and advent candles were there, even food supplies was provided. My Mom was all smile and joy as we returned to Haugesund. The next day we got the news, she'd had a new brain stroke and wasn't expected to live much longer. We waked for five days, they were rough for her and us, till she was let in the Pearly Gate, and everything in the room was idle peace. The day of St. Lucia was my Mom's homecoming day. The next day my aunt, my Mom's SIL, was buried and we somehow got the strength to attend the beautiful ceremony. December 17th we always visit and decorate the graves in Haugesund where Gunnar's family are buried. His Dad was born hundred years ago, December 17th 1912. Then back to Sauda in snow and storm, for Mom's quiet funeral December 19th. That was Mom's wish and we had to honor that. 

We returned to Haugesund to celebrate Gunnar's birthday, December 22nd. Serina made it a memorable day. I'm still not sure how we managed to buy Christmas presents, but we made it. Not many cards sent this year, though.
I was determined to present Norwegian Christmas Carols this Advent, one each day, and that somehow kept me going. In Serina's Advent calendar were simple riddles written in French, and one small gift hidden every day.We both had fun doing that. French is kind of a "new" language to Serina.The Little Christmas Eve, the 23rd, we returned to Sauda followed by a new storm. We celebrated Christmas with brother Kel. 

Everything was prepared on before hand, therefore we had a wonderful time surrounded by happy memories and memorabilia from my parents. We even attended three major church concert in Haugesund this Advents, the tickets were reserved in November.
We have experienced that the Lord has led us through dire landscape, opened doors and provided strength we did not posses in ourself.
The minister in the Church of Sauda was of great comfort and blessing, even smile and laughter.
Words from Jesaiah have proven to be true.  45:2 "I will go before you
    and will level the mountains^[a];
I will break down gates of bronze
    and cut through bars of iron.
³ I will give you hidden treasures,
    riches stored in secret places,
so that you may know that I am the Lord,
    the God of Israel, who summons you by name."