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
I cannot resist a good challenge. When Leoraimplied that I probably could not make the same Photoshop choices twice, I simply had to try once more to improve another wrecked picture. The bleak January sky and gray sea made my take of our harbor skyline dull and blur. What made the change is an artistic filter called poster edges. The lighthouse guarding the sailing entrance from the west, gave inspiration to the well known words from Psalm 119. (Hebrew Bible). I wish you all a peaceful week end.
As good housewives we are trained to take care of the leftovers and use them as intelligently and colorfully we possibly can. Be it dinner, fabric or yarn. Patchwork, the great American folk art, is made of leftovers. When photographing I have been quick to delete my mischiefs. Today I was out in our garden to capture the first snow drops. This picture went off by accident. I had some minutes left and thought I'd fiddle with it in Photoshop before erasing it.
1 Chor. 1:27 But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. 28 God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, 29 so that no one may boast before him.
The romantic favourite poet from my youth, Yeats, wrote many a soul wrecking, heartbreaking verse. Although he was an Irish Nobel prize winner, he's listed as English in the Oxford Pocketbook of English Verse. The nationalist writing rebel, lover of wild Lady Gregory, co-founder of the Abbey Theatre, now resting under Ben Bulben. He set words to the one thing people should not do to each other.
But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. I have faced all kinds of illness, poverty, deaths, losses, scattered hopes for oh, so many years. I'm still here. A weak spot though, having my dreams mocked; how small, inferior and childish they may seem. Get off my cloud! I admit I'm being human and vulnerable. If I replace the word Jew with the word Christian, I can make Shylock's words in his speech to the Doge in Venice to mine.
Shylock: I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, do we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. (The Merchant Of Venice Act 3, scene 1, 58-68)
So, I'm human. I don't like to write about that. I try to do like Abraham: count stars when the sky is dark. To not see how many descendants I shall have, but simply to get things in perspective. Most of the time that is very effective. After all I have been more blessed than 90 % of the world's population. Some times I have to admit, I'm blind to that, because so have most of my equals. My dear brother sometimes compares me to Lucy in the Peanuts. He may have a vague point there.
Lucy: We critical people are always being criticized!( Charles Schultz)
I've had some weird experiences after my two cataract operations this year. No, I don't have a 20 - 20 sight, but a 14- 9 is a vast improvement. Not only do I see better, I sit and walk differently too. Being my old grumpy self, I ask, why wasn't this done years ago? No use in looking back. I need stretching forwards. I need to enjoy the holy moments of peace even more.
"Every beauty which is seen here by persons of perception resembles more than anything else that celestial source from which we all are come." Michelangelo
I used to say, "I can read anything, if I only get it close enough. The small print in my Bible was a piece of cake. Now I have to adjust my eyes as well as my movements and my brain, where all movements begins, according to my physiotherapist. The other day I just needed a word of comfort. I looked up randomly in my Bible (which is not recommended) and as I started spelling word by word, the familiar text got a new and extended meaning. I laughed from joy.
Psalm 139
For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.
1 You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. 2 You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. 3 You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. 4 Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. 5 You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. 6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.
I am not the only one seen. My mother in hospital, my brother bedridden from migraine, Serina in Dublin, Gunnar by my side, Ruby and Amrita who just lost their mothers, my dear Dad Golden, Nathan, Lidia with all her responsibilities, Debbie and Sonja, they are all seen and equally cared for by our common creator, God Almighty! Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand. I can unload, indeed, I can rest, little ant that I am.
Christmas is over and all the disturbing clutter boxed away in the attic. Amidala is trying out "various positions" at any available space. Our dining tables are definitely off limit and she accepts that, at least when we are present.
Well, here she enjoyed peace and quiet on the chest of drawers in the hallway, and I came with my disturbing camera. Even though I don't use flash light, there are some small lights indicating that the camera is about to click. Not funny having ones cat dreams enlightened. Most of them are about successful, sinister night hunting, if I'm right. I usually am... Being right is my prerogative, since I can talk, and my destiny, since I say so much that should rather remain a secret.
For a split second after I knew I had trodden into a hilarious cat dream, my attention was to my camera and how to shoot her upcoming reactions. Too late. Boom, crash, my old heirloom, the mini chandelier with crystal prisms was crushed and several of the dangling toys broken . To this day I have not had the strength to try fixing it.
Amidala jumped down from her dreaming place and looked very annoyed, as if I was to blame. And maybe she was partly true.
Gattina from cats on Tuesday is hosting this meme. Visit her.
February came with snow and frost. Amidala is bored. She likes to be where the going gets rough. She also likes to play with Serina, but Serina is gone, Amidala knows, she's checking her room every day. I made her a place in the window, where she could look out in the garden. Her air tells; she's bored.
As we sat in the kitchen eating our dinner, we heard a crash and and bump. The crash was Amidala killing my nice glass bird up to the left, hanging in a yellow silk ribbon. (Gift from my dear friend Christa.) The bump was killer queen jumping down from the bookshelf without disturbing any of the other glass items on display.
Later that night she simply lay down on my key board, simply denying me to write another letter. Enough is enough. I did however not reward her terror attack, I sent her downstairs to Gunnar. Sunday night she was her old peaceful self again. She kept me company till four in the morning watching Super Bowl.
Gattina from cats on Tuesday is hosting this meme. Visit her.
Picture, My Mom on Sola beach, taken by Gunnar Jac.
Today I'm writing my blog post # 500. I'd like it to be special, a gift from me to you. I remember a sermon telling we should live and die in Romans eight. I tried to find an out-take that could summon it all up, but I found no verse to exclude.
Romans 8
1There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.
2For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.
3For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh:
4That the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.
5For they that are after the flesh do mind the things of the flesh; but they that are after the Spirit the things of the Spirit.
6For to be carnally minded is death; but to be spiritually minded is life and peace.
7Because the carnal mind is enmity against God: for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be.
8So then they that are in the flesh cannot please God.
9But ye are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God dwell in you. Now if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his.
10And if Christ be in you, the body is dead because of sin; but the Spirit is life because of righteousness.
11But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwell in you, he that raised up Christ from the dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth in you.
12Therefore, brethren, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live after the flesh.
13For if ye live after the flesh, ye shall die: but if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live.
14For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God.
15For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.
16The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God:
17And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together.
18For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.
19For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God.
20For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath subjected the same in hope,
21Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.
22For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.
23And not only they, but ourselves also, which have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body.
24For we are saved by hope: but hope that is seen is not hope: for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for?
25But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.
26Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.
27And he that searcheth the hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit, because he maketh intercession for the saints according to the will of God.
28And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.
29For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brethren.
30Moreover whom he did predestinate, them he also called: and whom he called, them he also justified: and whom he justified, them he also glorified.
31What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?
32He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?
33Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth.
34Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.
35Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
36As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.
37Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.
38For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
39Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Every Grain of Sand
Bob Dylan
In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed There's a dyin' voice within me reaching out somewhere, Toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair.
Don't have the inclination to look back on any mistake, Like Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must break. In the fury of the moment I can see the Master's hand In every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand.
Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear, Like criminals, they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer. The sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay.
I gaze into the doorway of temptation's angry flame And every time I pass that way I always hear my name. Then onward in my journey I come to understand That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.
I have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night In the violence of a summer's dream, in the chill of a wintry light, In the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space, In the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.
I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea Sometimes I turn, there's someone there, other times it's only me. I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.
I admit that the first month of this year has felt like climbing a steep mountain with no oxygen left.The worst things aren't the works that can be done, but the growing problems that only God in his grace can help solving. I'm happy to tell that this day we finally can see some light in the tunnel, and also that He has been there all the time, even when we could not see Him.
What did I do apart from praying, phoning dozens of officials, travelling to and from through blizzards e.t.c.? I comfort shopped. On the local internet buy & sell I bid for items we didn't really need, but I fancied them as well as the auction thrill. Gunnar must be the angel of the year. He has driven me around the town to collect my trophies, not saying a bad word about we needing to use our money more wisely. The red radio to the left is almost equal to Gunnar's old iconic Norwegian made radio from the early fifties. Now we have two. The analogue ground net is to be closed down next year or so, but we'll still have the icons.
This Swedish produced telephone from 1954, called Cobra is also a worldwide known icon. Dell managed to keep it off the American market for some years, but it was simply too good to be ignored. The Americans called it the Ericophone after the Ericsson telephone company. I have wanted one for a long time and now it's decorating our kitchen table.
Serina told us she had sent a little comfort thing from Dublin. I simply could not imagine what that might be. The Hobbit arrived Saturday, so now we can continue our loud readings, even after Serina has brought her copy with her to Ireland. Wasn't that a nice gesture?
Thank God for Skype. Even my mother has talked with Serina on Skype and she felt so relieved so learn that "Baby" was doing fine. So do we.
Happy Birthday to daughter Serina and brother Kel.
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.
