My mother's old school, not so rubbish.

 

Not just any old school, but the Vestly School, which my mother attended from 1931 - 1934. It's been taken care of of voluntary members of the community, and reverently kept in original order.

My first cousins arranged a gathering there two years ago.

The classroom had two blackboards, one for learning sheet music, the other for writing and mathematics. There used to be an old piano. My mother took up playing the piano at the age of 70. She still remembered the codes from her childhood. Wall charts were daily used in lack of advanced books.

Wall chart illustrating the stone age in Norway.

I guess my Mother sat and looked dreaming out on the beautiful Jaer-scenery by this  desk.

 

Until the doors opened and they were free to leave for the day.

My mother outside Vestly School ca. 1932, first row, number two from the left.

http://rubbishbyroan.blogspot.no/

Rubbish Tuesday is hoasted by ROAN.http://rubbishbyroan.blogspot.no/

Happy Birthday

Our beloved Serina was 25 a week ago. We usually celebrate a birthday for 24 hours. Opening presents at midnight. No wonder Serina was a bit tired for breakfast. The menu was red gel, strawberry dipped in chocolate and Californian Rose wine.

 

With her birthday crown she looked exactly ten years old.

 

Red lipstick after breakfast nap. Isn't she lovely? She's also painted the scenery of the narrow roads to Sauda standing to the left.

 Birthday child posing with a glimpse in her eye. "I'm finally old enough to wear my glasses in a string", she mocked.

 A penny for your thoughts. Maybe the bitter sweet poem by Irish  William Butler Yeats?

When You Are Old
William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
  
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face among a crowd of stars.

Photo  © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

ANGELS

 I'm so lucky, I have two churches where I feel at home.   
The picture above is from  The Church of Our Saviour in Haugesund. The picture under is from Sauda Church, which is its official name.

The special thing is that both churches have altar pieces depicting Jesus in Gethsemane.
Both are made by local painters, both are very well describing the loneliness. pain and agony of Christ.
There is one important difference though.
On the Sauda altar piece Christ is not alone. 
An angel was sent to wipe the blood sweat from his forehead. 
Jesus felt alone. He prayed to avoid what he knew was coming. "Not as I will, but as you will," he added.  
The answer was a comforting and strengthening angel.
We too are surrounded by angels.
Psalm 91:^{11 "}For he will command his angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways;"  
Let's rest in that promise.

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 # 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

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 # 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.

 

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."

Norwegian Christmas Carols # 14

We have an abundance of Christmas carols needed to be sung at Yuletide.
One is standing out among the hundreds and that is "Deilig er jorden ", meaning "The Earth is wonderful".
Whereeveer this song is performed, the whole assembly will automatically raise and join in.
Like today at my aunt Aase's funeral.
"Generations will follow generations, but the song about the Eternal Savior born in Bethlehem shall never be silenced."

Norwegian Christmas Carols # 2

Sweet Ruby has belonged to our extended family since she was eleven. Now she's soon to become 26, has taken a bachelor degree in England, stayed together with her Ørjan for 6 years and this year became the happy mother of Loke. The family has established themselves in Ruby's birth town where the hymn for first Sunday of Advent is  recorded in the main church.

Det lyser i stille grender [Julekveld]
Det lyser i stille grender av tindrande ljos ikveld, og tusunde barnehender mot himmelen ljosi held. Og glade med song dei helsar sin broder i himmelhall, som kom og vart heimsens frelsar som barn i ein vesal stall. Han låg der med høy til pute, og gret på si ringe seng, men englane song der ute på Betlehems aude eng. Der song dei for fyrste gongen ved natt over Davids by, den evige himmelsongen som alltid er ung og ny. Songen som atter tonar med jubel kvar julenatt. um barnet, Guds son og sonar som myrkret for evigt batt. Jakob Sande- You might translat the text from New Norwgian to English yourself. It's certainly worth the while.

Cohen in Red

 

 Who can resist the young sensual voice of Leonard Cohen, 78?

 

 His lyrics and music reach beyond age or changer. As always our little family loves traveling together for major concerts.

He played, danced and showed for four hours in Bergen this August.

 He's our man.

Magical Mystery Teacher is hosting Ruby Tuesday 2 together with Gemma Wiseman