Saturday, April 21, 2007


Easter morning we had planned to mount this mountain peak, very small, with a wonderful view. A sudden change in the weather made spring into a wet and snowy day. Nevertheless none of us thought of staying home, and we spent a wonderful day together. The kind people who owned the land let us borrow dry clothes and fed us with an excellent Easter Lamb dinner after our excursion.
My first cousin Vivian came all the way from Chicago to be with her two ill and aging uncles and their wives for three days in November latest.
She moved us all beyond tears and words.

Husband Gunnar drove six hours in the middle of a roaring hurricane one dark November night to bring home this blue oil barrel. Daughter Serina was granted this special instrument from her favourite group "Kaizer's Orchestra" after a concert in Bergen. She was overwhelmed by the gift, and did not hesitate to ask for her father's help. Their relationship exceeds kindness.

Everyone who's being kind to my baby, here at her confirmation day, is a friend of mine.
If some should try to hurt her, I have no mercy at all.

We've had three cats. One died at the age of eighteen, one was only three. Marcello, the happiest and kindest of them all, disappeared at the age of two.
We have organised searching, have advertised in the paper, on the radio and in the shopping centres. No results in three ears. Our hearts are bleeding.

Serina's grand aunts who have been more than kind to all of us sitting at our terrace. Their concern, cordial and munificence are beyond borders.
One has got to love them back plainly and simply.

Guess that I, like amongst others St. Paul, have an honest will to do the good, but lack the power. I therefore was not happy at all when the word to contemplate on for this week was kindness.
I am more of a bitch than that of a saint personality. Hence the name of my blog.
"Didn't mean to be unkind.
You know that was the last thing on my mind," Tom Paxton wrote.

Actually I am being kind to helpless children, animals, elderly, the mentally retarded and some of the mentally ill.

I claim that virtue.

I am, however, not a kind person, not to mine or my nearests' and dearests' experience, - alas.
Most of all I'm acting like a hedge-hog when I feel frightened, angry or insecure. I curl up to a ball and unfold my hundred spikes. I kill mice and snakes, though, and am an extermination threatened species myself.
I humbly let those who feed me pat me on my head, and spread shit on their terrace, if they scare me.
Guess I need kindness, and like to show kindness, but not always or in general.
Hmm.. I'll have to reflect more on this theme.
"Tomorrow is another day," Scarlett O'Hara would have said.