Thursday, April 29, 2010


This smiling lad is lying at the end of my mother's garden. To make a lawn on their half acre of land, my parents shoveled each foot by hand. The stones were driven to the boarders of the lawn to make a fence or a "yard" my mother would say.
One summer the two of us built a fireplace of stones. My dad did not trust our constructing skills. This fireplace will be down within next spring, he claimed. Well, my stubborn mother has smuggled some concrete in between the stones these 45 years. Each summer we make at least one pot of coffee and some hot dogs there.
(Wo)man's victory against nature.

Monday, April 26, 2010


The Nordic weather has been weird this April.
Sun,fog,rain, snow, hail and night frost have taken turn to confuse us.Worst of all this ash layer from Iceland forcing the planes to stay grounded for a week.
When I first woke up smelling smoke, I reckoned I'd been too heavy with barbecue oil the night before.

Alas, it was the real thing. The scenery was practically gray.

Watching the sun sink in the ash layer over the sea,was quite an experience.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today

Sunday, April 25, 2010


Hiker girls meet another male while chasing white anemones.

"All these days coming and going; little did I know, that they were life itself".

The last weeks
life indeed seemed is coming too close,as if I have no comfort zone left.

Like when the headlines in the newspaper aren't abstracts, but concerning people I know.
The Muslim girl sent back to Iraq by her father.
I know her, know her hopes for a future in Norway, know that it doesn't include a forced marriage in the land her father had to flee from.
I wonder;how long will foreign people be permitted to violent Norwegian laws?
How many blind eyes can be turned to injustice committed to children?

On the other hand, the pater I worked with in my youth; brave, intelligent, outspoken with a sharp pen and a dozen bestsellers. Now falsely accused of an "attempted rape" on an adult. (To cover up the fact the catholic bishop actually has confessed pedophile aggression.)
Makes me wonder; don't these transgressors believe in judgment day at all?

Ash rain from Iceland spraying my delicate spring flowers, but creating the most wonderful sundowns..

The wild white anemones are here, the optimal spring sign to me.Liv took us on a hike to gather the first ones this year.
A time of thrilled devotion.

The Ramsons are sprouting under every bush in the garden.
We're enjoying leek for all of our dinner meals, but I serve it as a side dish, so it's optional.

One week ago I bought an indoor mini hot house for to sow the holy basil seeds Amrita sent me.
Today the tiny sprouts are 1 1/2 cm long.
Amrita and her dear Mom are guarding the seeds in the hot house.
Outdoors I have sowed Indian cress and planted begonias.

We had snow less than a week ago,but I simply couldn't wait any longer. It was to be or not to be for my future flowers.
May is just around the corner.

We had dinner on terrace, wearing either down jackets and fleece quilts.

Gunnar is also fixing the bathroom in the flat we have for hire. Intricate work, but he's very clever.

We have help to wash the floors, but the eager ladies are a bit heavy on the (soap)bottle, so I had to polish the wood floor in the living room laying on my knees.
I seized the moment and made this self portrait.
My summer wardrobe is still hidden in an old chest.Perhaps next week?
The public library arranged its annual "Day of the Book", serving coffee and waffles, a free rose and selling used books for one dollar. Seized the moment there as well.

Gunnar already has had a his summer hairdo, leaving his hairdresser triumphantly smiling with a kilo of hair on the floor.

My hands are black and swollen from digging, weeding and planting.
I simply cannot wear garden gloves, I so enjoy the touch of soil. A good thing I don't belong to the manicurist class.

The birds are mating, singing all day and night long. We are lucky to have black birds nesting here. They repay our feeding with wonderful thrills.
All the time the clock of my life is ticking,tacking, -- to fast for my taste.