Happy Easter

What have we been doing lately? Not much. Weeding straw, moss and- weeds. As you will see, Mrs. Mac; there's enough moss left to feed a heard of rein deer.
This beautiful card came all the way from India, inspiring me to make this post. I haven't sent one single greeting card this year either.
Thank you so very much both for the card, and for taking the trouble posting it, dear Amrita.
I know these things are much more troublesome for you to get done, than it would have been to me. Even so you took time to do it.
I am very grateful.

The five kittens are taking much of our time. Gunnar spent a day teaching them to use the cat toilet. He has patience and will to make it work.

Now Ms Kitty has taken over the job.

Last year I used totally wrong words my Easter decorations. I've later learned that the proper words are twigs and rooster.
Whatever has happened to the English language since I went to school?


The Easter parade on our kitchen table.

Me taking a swing in the garden. More moss and snow drops.
Picture by Serina.

Shy crocus.

The most beautiful book in my collection. A cookbook from 1938
which I bought last week.

A congregation on the island, Karmøy, is selling books to raise money to build a new church after the old burned down.

We have been buying for a good cause.

And for our own pleasure.
Happy Easter to all of you.

April

Rocky waters outside the coastline of Haugesund.
I could hardly hold the camera still, as my squirrel daughter started climbing the stairs in the rough wind.

If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now,
It's just a spring clean for the May queen.
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run
There's still time to change the road you're on.
And it makes me wonder.

Your head is humming and it won't go, in case you don't know,
The piper's calling you to join him,
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind.

Jimmy Page and Robert Plant

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April walk in Haugesund

Tonjer Lighthouse can only be reached by boat, and is situated on the south side to guide ships entering the narrow strait leading to the harbor.


The local municipal council has decided that we, the inhabitants of Haugesund, deserve a new walking path along these extraordinary
shores. The beauty of the scenery can be admired and experienced no matter what the weather or the season is like.



The path heads northwards and then west again.
If you are familiar with the four directions of the compass, you easily find your way anywhere in Haugesund.

Serina rarely gets lost. She is a former girl scout and can handle most situations.

Out on the Whale she climbed the stairways up to the beacon light. Far behind the horizon in the west is Scotland and the Shetland Islands.

Turning east on our way home, we spot two church towers in a row.
Nearest, Skaare Church where Serina was confirmed, the green copper tower belongs to the Church of Our Savior, where Gunnar was Christened and confirmed.

Even though it was a cold and windy first Sunday in April, I always connect Pat Boone's sweet voice with this month.


April Love :

April love is for the very young
Every star's a wishing star that shines for you
April love is all the seven wonders
One little kiss can tell you this is true

Sometimes an April day will suddenly bring showers
Rain to grow the flowers for her first bouquet
But April love can slip right through your fingers
So if she's the one, don't let her run away

Sometimes an April day will suddenly bring showers
Rain to grow the flowers for her first bouquet
But April love can slip right through your fingers
So if she's the one, don't let her run away

April love is for the very young
Every star's a wishing star that shines for you
April love is all the seven wonders
One little kiss can tell you this is true

Sometimes an April day will suddenly bring showers
Rain to grow the flowers for her first bouquet
But April love can slip right through your fingers
So if she's the one, don't let her run away

Sometimes an April day will suddenly bring showers
Rain to grow the flowers for her first bouquet
But April love can slip right through your fingers
So if she's the one, don't let her run away.

Dearest Terry

Sometimes I'm proud to be a Norwegian. When we win medals in sports nobody outside Scandinavia never have heard about, like Nordic skiing, Nordic walking e.t.c., wow, then I wave our flag and sing.
When Posten Norge, the Norwegian Postal system, cannot read the international 7 number, but send my package around the country, and instead of excusing themselves, persist on me commanding the rest of the civilized world to write seven with a bar on, then I feel ashamed.
The old julenisse mentality, believing that little Norway is the belly button of the world.
So terribly embarrassing. My best friend Terry paying over 33 dollars to send a package by air, and Posten Norge making a mess of it anyway.
If they just had taken time to read how the 1 number and the seven number were written, they couldn't have missed at all. Oh, no, they just rally on; your fault, your fault.
And yes, I have made this blog, not to honor my bestest, but to belittle Posten Norge. A package sent by airmail from Canada March 25th, arrives my postbox April 6th, that is a shame. I'm so sorry on behalf of my country, dear Terry.


Then a big bear hug to Mom and dad Golden for the adorable picture. I've hung them on my Yeti fridge among my closest family and friends.


My warmest thanks to Terry and Bernie who went to so much trouble to send this heartwarming package to me. Here's a card for my mother, and a long letter where Terry has copied her blog post about Monten. I know she will be so glad and proud to show this to friends and family in Sauda.

Six romantic DVDs were showered over me. Something good to watch and sweeten life, curling up in the sofa with some chocolate and a hot cuppa, when the days are not so good.
Terry, you know what an old lady needs.
The beautiful card must be stored among my Terry treasures. No wonder she has a large twin chamber in my heart. As do my prayerchild Dad Golden. Golden thanks to all of you from Felisol/Norway

Ruby ode to the spring

View from our London hotel window to the backyard.
I admire the optimistic flowers praising the joy of spring to tenant and God only.

Carl Sandburg (1920)

The Spring

1 The down drop of the blackbird, The wing catch of arrested flight, The stop midway and then off: off for triangles, circles, loops of new hieroglyphs— This is April’s way: a woman: “O yes, I’m here again and your heart knows I was coming.” 2 White pigeons rush at the sun, A marathon of wing feats is on: “Who most loves danger? Who most loves wings? Who somersaults for God’s sake in the name of wing power in the sun and blue on an April Thursday.” So ten winged heads, ten winged feet, race their white forms over Elmhurst. They go fast: once the ten together were a feather of foam bubble, a chrysanthemum whirl speaking to silver and azure. 3 The child is on my shoulders. In the prairie moonlight the child’s legs hang over my shoulders. She sits on my neck and I hear her calling me a good horse. She slides down—and into the moon silver of a prairie stream She throws a stone and laughs at the clug-clug.

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Serina's Psalm

I have a rare talent for worrying, even though I am familiar with the fact, I cannot with all my worries put a cubit to the length of my life.

My brother says I am giving the Lord detail instructions in my prayers. As if I do not know He is the shade upon my right hand.
When things curl up inside of me, and my cup is flowing over with worries, I read Psalm 121, Serina's Psalm.

Psalms Chapter 121

1 A Song of Ascents.
I will lift up mine eyes unto the mountains: from whence shall my help come?
2 My help cometh from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.
3 He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; He that keepeth thee will not slumber.
4 Behold, He that keepeth Israel doth neither slumber nor sleep.
5 The LORD is thy keeper; the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand.
6 The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.
7 The LORD shall keep thee from all evil; He shall keep thy soul.
8 The LORD shall guard thy going out and thy coming in, from this time forth and for ever.

Anytime I want, I can hear the voice of Serina 3 asking, "Mamma, how far away is God?" The words from the Psalm 121 came to me, "He is not far, He is here." "How can that be?" I read her the verse 5,"the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand." She laughed while making shadow pictures on the wall. "Is he here? Is he there?" That's when finally I realized how true it was. And still is.

Menorah in sepia

I visited British Museum in London for the first time this February.
One may consider the exhibition as the world's most gigantic theft.
Nevertheless British archaeologists searched for and took care of world heritage, at a time most countries hardly could support themselves.
I also find it positive that the priceless, tremendous exhibition is public, and even has free admission.
I chose to make this Babylonian finding, a Menorah carved in a gold plate, with reverse letters?? Is it kind of a stamp? I guess it's from the time when the people of Israel were abducted to Babylon.

Psalms Chapter 137

1 By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.
2 Upon the willows in the midst thereof we hanged up our harps.
3 For there they that led us captive asked of us words of song, and our tormentors asked of us mirth:
'Sing us one of the songs of Zion.'
4 How shall we sing the LORD'S song in a foreign land?
5 If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.
6 Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I remember thee not;
if I set not Jerusalem above my chiefest joy.
7 Remember, O LORD, against the children of Edom the day of Jerusalem;
who said: 'Rase it, rase it, even to the foundation thereof.'
8 O daughter of Babylon, that art to be destroyed;
happy shall he be, that repayeth thee as thou hast served us.


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Ruby March Hikers

Ever seen Sig Hansen in The Deadliest Catch? He's from "our" island, Karmøy, and he's talking the local dialect fluently,even though he himself is born in Seattle. This March day the hiker girls were on a excursion to the most unfriendly, but oh, so impressing parts of the island, called Ferkingstad.
I'm sure you can understand that fishermen coming from these waters are skilled sailors.


Ferkingstad harbor has a long mole to prevent the seahouses and boats
from being blown into the sea when the winter storms are at their worst.

The hiker ladies out to visit the memorial erected by Norwegian/American sailors and fishermen. So many from this island have found a wet grave in American waters.

Torill keeping her balance while shooting. Notice the sky. The weather is changing all the time here on the shore of the island.


Another part of the seaman's memorial. A bell house in the stony landscape. There are two old ship-house sites dated back to the viking area.
The wild landscape is protested from developers.
The big stones have been here since the ice withdrew the end of last Ice Age 10 000 years ago-

The small lighthouse is almost impossible to enter, situated at the utmost edge of the mainland, surrounded by boulders.


Liv is giving it a go.

Tilly is a clever mountain goat as well.

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SEPIA CONFUSION

This sepia self-portrait in an old stained mirror, kind of interpret my mood right now. I reduced the sepia till about 20 and then did some fiddling I cannot quite explain. As little as I can explain this blues.
The poem; I fell for the first verse, the rest belong to Dylan Thomas.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

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Muppet Show - Mahna Mahna Original

For Brother Kel and blog friend Nathan.

RUBY MARS INTERIORS

Today, Monday March 21st at 6 a.m. Norwegian time, is Spring Equinox.
My entries for Ruby Tuesday are all made indoors. Spring still hasn't won the final battle about the season.

"I'm accepting chaos. I'm sure sure whether chaos is accepting me,"Bob Dylan.
We bought this dining table just a year ago. The intention was to have a table which was always cleared and empty.....

Harriet Backer is a well known female painter from the 19th century.
I bought this clever hand painted copy at Sally Army. Gunnar was very sceptically. Till we stumbled over the original in Oslo hanging in the prestigious National Museum. Backer is famous for painting light in simple interiors. This time mother sun herself has enhanced the picture.

This is the closest we ever came to a wedding picture. We had to send out cards to thank for the overwhelming amount of presents we got, even though we did not have a traditional wedding. Our life among books and cats might be an alternate title. Photo within the photo by Gunnar.


I am a copycat, inspired by Gunnar's great skill. He made an intriguing shot of the old stained mirror in our bedroom. This is my self portrait.

Gunnar has reached new heights as a skilled baker. His spelt breads are delicious, and also a necessity, as he is gluten intolerant. Lucky me get to taste. And the baking spreads bread perfume all over our home.
Not a bad place to be while king winter is still wrestling princess spring outdoors.

Ruby Tuesday

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ESCAPISM?

Escapism or fingers into the earth?
There are days world events are sucking the breath out of me.
Life is almost too hard to digest.
When the news headlines are carpet bombing my brain and mind 24/7.
Do you know what's really making me go mad?
The inevitable sport section following the world news.Earnest journalists keep talking about football and ice hockey with equal engagement and high voice as the reporters from Japan and Libya.
As if sport matters at all these days. It's all about money and drugs anyway.
It's then I put on my wellingtons to wade through snow and dirt in my garden.
Hidden, close to the wall, a few snowdrops are blooming.
I bend down carefully picking some to decorate our kitchen table, a TV free zone.
Serving chilled water from old wine bottles, lightening a candle and sucking in the sane smell of spring, I finally regain breath and a slight touch with my immediate reality.
Fingers into the dirt and Tiger Balm thereafter are my best therapy.

SEPIA SIGN

In Kensington Garden, along the Serpentine, road marks like this were implanted in the asphalt.

What grip my by the heart, was that someone carefully had seen to, that the former Princess Diana had been give back her lost title and dignity.
There were a Diana Princess of Wales Memorial walk, a ditto fountain and last but not least; playground.
Kensington Garden is leading up to Kensington Palace where Princess Diana lived also after her marriage had broken up. The Palace is now being redecorated for Prince William and his wife to be.
Only 19% sepia in this picture.

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HIDE US

Psalm 27:5 For He concealeth me in His pavilion in the day of evil.

I just heard on the radio,a pair of Norwegian missionaries in Japan are welcoming refugees in their church. "We have food and water supplies, but there is no gas stations in many hours radius. We can provide house and shelter for those who are worse off than us. I fetched my husband on the airport today, and brought him with me back to the church", the missionary said, "I feel safe here in the shadow of my Father's wings."

I feel ashamed being so scared miles and miles away.
I'm still praying though, and will not stop doing so.

RUBY DAY IN LONDON

Some times, when life seems just too bad, like what is happening in Japan these day, I simply have to turn my mind and eyes away from the marring horrors, and polish good memories. They are a part of life too!


Our second day in London bro Kel and I bought Oyester cards for the Subway and out we went, not to buy pizza though.

I prefer the Subway to the intricate forest paths in Norway.
Bro was looking for CD's and had old connections up in Notting Hill.


We didn't walk very long due lousy physical conditions for both of us.
The small colorful shops in Portobello Road are mostly for tourists.
This traveler sure had confidence in the Londoners.

Flowers and spring in London, while snow cowered most of Norway. We were thrilled.

Ruby Tuesday

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