SUMMERJOY

"Never did I realize that all those days that came and went were life itself,"an elderly lady said looking back.
I guess that's what I'm trying to do with my blog.Writing about those days that are my life.
Not many knows that the copper the Statue of Liberty is made of comes from Norway. A French owned copper mine near Haugesund provided all the material for the giant gift from France.
Aunt Lilly's husband worked in that copper mine all his life. Now he's dead and the mine has since long been turned into a museum.
The statue I'm posing by,is an American silicon replica brought over the Atlantic by Norwegian/American fishermen.

The great Skypainter doing a new masterpiece by the Whale.The district where we live is called Whaleae. Maybe after the formation on the ness or because the bay was used to catch whales in long, long time ago.
May 10th friend Turid celebrated her 60th birthday in a chocolatespa in Riga.The rest of the Gang of Four went up to decorate her house for her homecomming.
Aunt Lily has been hospitalized once more. An inflammation in her forehead forces her to use strong medication, cortisone, but she keeps smiling and is a source of joy to all of us.
My herb garden is already sprung into flowers. Fresh cut in salad they are healthbombs.
My two garden angles and a frog waiting for a kiss to turn into the prince on a white horse.
Flower girl under the clematis, God's own garden curtains.
At the peak of Haugesund's tallest mountain. my legs were aching for three days afterwards. To my left the third biggest glacier of Norway, Folgefonna may be vaguely spotted.
God's summer curtains from our livingroom.
The lilies and tulips from may are long gone. The Forget-me-nots are still praying their humble wish.
The Rhododendron is flooding over the terrace.
The Clematis,the Redbells and the Icelandic lava are almost hiding the steps up to the terrace.

Gunnar looking for food after a late "sundown tour".
When Norwegian eyes are smiling. At Sola beach hotel, waiting for dinner and Bob Dylan.
The hotel is a well hidden local secret. Here a wedding feast just outside the dining room. Wonder if Jim's son ever was here? It even has a small golfcourse.
This was the third Bob Dylan concert Gunnar, Serina and I attended together. First when she was three, second a her age of fourteen, and this time she was twenty. Nice tradition we intend to follow as long as the never ending tour keeps rolling.

Serina having a good time in the middle of a rather civilized crowd, in her own words.
I was rather annoyed with the drunken young monkey men.I managed to shuffle them away though and give them a suitable elbow while stumbling on.
Gunnar, all calm and focused,but never letting his daughter out of sight.
Dylan played for two hours, so cool jazzing and rocking the time out of mind.
He was in a remarkable good mood, even did encores.
The beach outside our hotel window.
I cannot think of a better lullaby than the rhythmic rolling of the sea.

Half of me is from this landscape, Jaeren. We had to visit the Old Vicarage at Haa. There're always interesting exhibitions in the mighty stone age grave landscape.
Norwegian and Russian fairytales were themes this summer.
The new barn had weird weavings displayed for sale.
Outside no shore, but roll stone graves from the stone age.
Dylan is right again, no moss on a rolling stone.
The mighty high sky brilliantly painted.
My mother's favorite brother Leif (they were nine siblings)living in the immediate neighborhood the place he was born.

He and my aunt Olaug are the most hospitable persons I know of. My uncle just out of the hospital and my aunt in severe arthritic pains. No way we were allowed to leave without a proper meal!

Just now Gunnar is working hard to transfer our terrace from shabby to chick before our long advertised garden party.
If the weather will continue to stay so extraordinary warm and sunny, we'll have the day of the year.

MISSING MY DAD

One year today since my Dad went home to stay with his family in Heaven.
He was the best.
I miss him every day beyond words.
The picture of me sitting safely on my father's lap was taken in 1953.
We were traveling by boat 120 kilometers to see my ophthalmologist.
The trip would take six hours each way.Long journey for a girl of three. I remember it as was it yesterday.
My Dad seemed to relax and enjoy himself,as did I.
Nothing much to play with,but my Dad
had brought a newspaper with plain big fonts. He used that to teach me the alphabet. When I returned I even knew how to write.

In the big city we went to a toy shop where I was allowed to choose two necklaces and a jewel box for myself.

The string broke many times, but my Dad would always take time to fix them. Gee, was he happy when the nylon string finally came on the market.

I've lost most things from my childhood, but the necklaces are still in their box.
Just to touch them brings a flood of good memories to the surface.

EIGHT DAYS OF MAY IN REVERSE

The birches and pines along the east facade of our home.

We've had eight warm, shiny days filled with songs of birds, garden work, planning for outwards remodeling, long pleasant walks and terrace meals. Due to reverse thinking the photos begin with yesterday and ends at May 6th.
The old garden chairs have been spray painted red and on the upper marquise the wonderful clematis are showing the first pink flowers; God's own summer curtains.
The blood beech have sprung, offering shade and rest for a hammocker.
May tenth was last day on school for the media students. Here's Serina's class of journalist and photo students.Where is our daughter. Well, there's always one of these teachers who has to steel the spotlight from her students. Serina's hidden behind the broad, blue back.
By the dinner table for students and their parents. "I shall not cry,"was Serina's motto.She did not manage to keep that.
Tina was a very special girl from the author class. She'd contributed to a book with a heartbreaking story called "Eva".
9th we revisited old, familiar sites not far away from Drammen where Serina went to school.
This is the arsen tower of the cobalt mines, called the Blue Colour Plant.
The cobalt blue color is use in fine porcelain decorating. The Royal Copenhagen have used it on their famous Mussel pattern for almost two centuries.
Trying to get inside a mine opening.
The old(yes I like oldies)eletric power plant looks more like a castle.

Fresh from school I worked as a teacher for children with various psychic problems. The headmaster and his wife lived upstairs in the school building.
There also was a wonderful big dorm
which before ww2 had served as a sanatorium for people with tuberculosis. It sadly burned down in 1983. The farm also belonging to the premises now had a new white farmhouse, and a very friendly owner, who let us go around as we wanted.
The old doc's house where I lived for a year.Using the waiting-room as a kitchen and his office for living/sleeping quarters.
The Blue colour Plant and my new Nokia N95, cellphone that is.
The snow melting has flooded the area and drowned several trees.
Gunnar below an authentic lamppost from the beginning of twentieth century.
We just had to visit the girls at the arrival after eight hours of driving. Serina and her roomie Vanja overlooking Drammen city.
Posing with her new American bought photo lens. "I saved 400 Us Dollars on that bargain, Mom," she said. Who can argue against economy?
We had to cross the Long Mountain Ridge on 1000 meters over sea level on our way from west to east.
Full winter and Pentecost vactionairers skiing outside the chalet.
The main entrance is flourishing.
Work still to be done in the herb & berry garden. The bench former served in a chapel; remember the ones from the 40ies?
The tree called Christ Thorn blossoms every spring, but never carries any of the decorative red berries.
Stairs and a fir leading to the upper garden.
The Cherry tree at full bloom, the birds are singing there all day, but no berries in the autumn. I insist on keeping it, because of the beauty of the flowers.

Herb salad made for next day's soup.
6 different herbs, I just cannot look them all up.
I am raised by an old fashioned Mom.The summer wardrobe to be washed and stored for the winter. Next spring put away the winter clothes and so on. I wish I had a walk in closet with lots and lots of space.
Before our journey over the mountains looking for bags and suitcases. I'm never traveling light.Remark the one with United States Lines label on it.
That's genuine, but just for show off.
Part of our kitchen at midnight. I'm preparing herb juice and ointments for Gunnar.
Dandelion juice.
We're living in a fertile area with old and rare flowers. Bright yellow Mary Chainband, White Anemones in abundance, Mary robe, Brook Blooms are to be found just a few minutes outside our house.
Here they call this a river, but it is a slow brook actually, with trouts waking in the evening.
Gunnar photo shooting at half past nine in the evening.
Old Scandinavian stone monuments called bauta stones.
A lot still to be found in our county.
Makes one wonder what and who were here some thousand years ago. Eldest man found in a moor nearby, showed to be a woman 7000 years old. She did not bother to lie about her age.
White Anemones and Mary's chain band.
Summer Lady has stayed out the whole winter to guard our terrace.
Old saying foresay a fine summer:
Oak before Ash,
means splash.
Ash before Oak,
no soak.

The Ash has sprung, but the oak still has no leaves.

APROPOS OPERA'S DO IT YOURSELF

Phil. 4: 13 I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.