Ruby crowns

Bridal crowns


The Bridal crowns are photographed in a black room, behind glass and wires in the West Norwegian Museum for arts and crafts in Bergen.
They are all made of silver and some gold.
The foliage, the hanging leaves are special for our crowns and also for other bunad jewelry.

The bridal crown can only be worn by a virgin, and only together with a Norwegian bunad.
Only few families possess a bridal crown of their own. Most museums will rent the bride to be a crown for a fair price. Even in America there is a museum where one may rent a genuine Norwegian bridal crown.


bunads
The 19 Norwegian counties each has its special bunad . Rogaland, my county has at least 8 various bunads . Here a Rogaland collection from Serina's confirmation. My mother has made both hers and Serina's. She also has made one for me.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

RUBY HARBOR

Bergen is surrounded by 7 mountains which make a perfect sheltered harbor on the windy west coast of Norway.
Gunnar walking in the boarded alleys between the old Hansa buildings. The lens louse to the right remind in the picture because of his bold pink & lemon green clothing.
A viking ship replica is anchored side by side of a tall ship outside the coast culture building.
Cobbled stones and the ancient town gate to the right.
Close to the old fish market where one still can buy live fish. Tourists from all over the world are mixing peacefully.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

BAROQUE RUBY

From the visit in St. Mary's Church neighbor city Bergen. The church became Lutheran with the rest of the Norwegian churches in year 1537. The pulpit, or "sermon stool" we call it,stool, as in chair, dear John C, was central in Lutheran churches till the 1970ies.
The pulpit of St. Mary's Church was made in 1676. It has so many interesting details and is so skillfully made, it's worth a visit to Norway in itself. The baroque joy of life and surplus in decoration and colors is no less than breath- taking. The smiling poster at the entrance door, "Yes, you may take pictures", made us stay in the church for a long, long time.
The stairway to heaven.
These are cherubs, not angels. They have genitalia and bellybuttons. They angels have neither, according to my theological guru, brother Ole.
People must have had other ways of thinking and judging than we have. I hardly can imagine a new church with a bare-breasted woman. None has ever been offended by this one.
The heaven over the pulpit. I haven't studied that closely, but the figures shall be the twelve of the Zodiac. The round brass globe is then the sun.
A closeup of a sunflower on the pulpit.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

SEPIA DAYS IN BERGEN

The church of St. Mary was built in year 1130 and extended after a fire in year 1245.
Building material is mostly soapstone from 4 different quarries. It's a basilica church with most interesting sideships.

I let this old crucifix be original.I doubt that sepia can enhance the glow in the old wood carving dated from the origin of the church .
This gentleman can vaguely be spotted under one arch of the left side-ship. Three hundred years before Michelangelo this was the way to paint the ceiling.
The ship is a protestant symbol,I think.Probably a Hansa ship bringing goods to Bergen.
The ship symbolizes our journey through life and is often found in Norwegian churches.
Also the main church room, where the congregation is seated, is called the ship.
Almost hidden on the right hand-side of the entrance door another reminiscence from Catholic times. The place for the Holy Water.
I doubt people even think about it, when entering the church.
Times, ceremonies and people change, but God is from eternity to eternity
Old baroque priest Petter Dass wrote in year 1698:

GOD is GOD,even if all land lay desolate,
GOD is GOD,even if all men were dead;
If People giddy, in LOrd's high heavens
Innumerable swarm GOD's crop.




Hosted by Mary, the teach
Learn more about Sepia Scenes here.

St. Mary in gold, blue and ruby

Bergen is our second largest city. It also was our capital for a long time, and already an established city and a center of commerce in the 11th century.
After the black death the Hanseatic League made Bergen their Nordic base. They were in control of the city till midst of the 18th century.
The Bergeners and the German Hanses went well together and such formed pillars of the Bergen of today.
After Martin Luther had revolted the Northern European Churches with his reformation in 1517, most churches were stripped for reliquary, St. Mary altars and saint's shrines.
The silver were sent to the king in Copenhagen, the rest were burnt.
Not so in Bergen's oldest church St. Mary's.
The Bergeners and Hansas were conservative and traditionalists; they still are.
They also possessed the power following huge wealth.
Therefore the ancient triptych and even elder wood sculptures remained in the church from the 12th century.
Till this day they overwhelm the visitors.
Gunnar and I spent some memorable hours there last week,... and we will be back.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

FIRE - ON OUR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY

The red and rainy stadium being filled up with 15ooo wet, but happy spectators.


Norwegian school end their summer holiday about the 20th of August.
With hubby Gunnar being a teacher those and have always been busy days. To daughter Serina every fall have been equally fully booked for the fifteen years she has been going to school.
It so happens that our wedding anniversary is August 19th.

This year I asked Gunnar to fulfill my big celebration wish.

A day at the football stadium with my all time favorite soccer team; BRANN; means FIRE.
BRANN's home stadium is in Bergen 3 hours drive north of Haugesund.
It is forty years since I last saw "my" team play live in Bergen.
There were singing, shouting and jokes all over the place. I sung along from the bottom of my heart.


The most charming and enthusiastic team ever.
The audience, even better, singing and shouting of a full and honest heart, through the ups and downs of their beloved team.
A soccer team has eleven men on the field. Brann has a twelfth player; its audience.
This soaky, rainy Sunday our team won 4 to 2.
That's considered a huge win.

We stayed in a nice hotel a couple of nights just to celebrate and to see out daughter well off to her uni. She drove in our old car all by her self over mountains and under fjords.
The winning team thanking "The Twelfth man" for support.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

MIRACLES

Miracles do happen, whether you believe in them or not.
Elisabeth George17 months ago my mother suffered a major stroke.
She was admitted to hospital twice. Had they bothered to take some tests the first time she might have avoided the second one,causing quadriplegia.Luckily mother mother is of strong will and good genes.
She stayed with us for four months, slowly regaining her speech and ability to walk.
At first she had to sit in an armpit chair, being spoon fed and drink water with thickener in it.
She has but 7 years of schooling, but super quality of such. Even in hospital when the nurses came to see to her, she sat with paper and pencil and asked them triumphantly if they were able to calculate the area of a pentagon.
They couldn't, of course. Young people in nursing jobs rarely have a talent for mathematics.
Maybe because of that, and also because I had to talk my mom's cause in the local newspaper,(lack of proper stroke treatment)she later received properly trained- with the inestimable help of Gunnar-, leading her three times a day.

Here my mother is about to beat me in Chinese Checkers less than two month after her stroke.
Why do I remember just now?
I have not played CC since my mother moved to live in her own home.
Recently I played with my cousin and my daughter, and I beat them both, easily.
I cannot remember last time I was able to win over my mother.
Now she's keeping her garden as always and reading short stories to fellow elderly at meetings.

How I wish doctors and nurses began to believe in what they see, and turn their eyes away from the ungodly mammon.

RUBY BLUES

My favorite photo object soon is leaving for school on faraway premises. these shots are taken a blowy day at the local beach.
Now, here's a challenge.
This poem about the Finnish Roine Beach,
one of my dad's favorites probably can be translated. If you're interested; welcome.

This incomplete translation is made by google.

By Roines Strand
Zacharias Topelius
Herd graze and the clock rings,
The clock rings at Roine beach.
Swan flies with white wings,
Flying alone at the cloud periphery.
The spring winds in foliage go,
The sun is shining and the lake is blue;
But I sing my long yearning,
Roine sings alone at the beach.: |

My Father is a birch forest,
My mother is summer's cloud,
My brother is an spike in the filed,
my sister is a winter wind.
Solo, I am as heather of the heath,
Flowering sole and wilted young.
|: Sing, sing my long yearning,
Roine sings alone at the beach.: |

If the glittering sun knew,
If she knew my heart's inclination,
All of its rose guise she lost,
Would fall in the source wave,
Sink, sink in the night's bosom;
But I whisper my beloved's name,
Sing, sing my long yearning,
I'm singing lonely at Roine beach.


Klockan klingar på Roines strand.
Svanen flyger med hvita vingar,
Flyger ensam vid molnets rand.
Vårens vindar i löfven gå,
Solen skiner och sjön är blå;
|: Men jag sjunger min långa längtan,
Sjunger ensam vid Roines strand.:|

Fader min är en björk i skogen,
Moder min är sommarsky,
Broder min är ett ax i logen,
syster min är ett vinterny.
Ensam är jag som hedens ljung,
Blommar ensam och vissnar ung.
|: Sjunger, sjunger min långa längtan,
Sjunger ensam vid Roines strand.:|

Om den strålande solen visste,
Om hon visste mitt hjertas håg,
Allt sitt rosensken hon miste,
Skulle sjunka i qvällens våg,
Sjunka, sjunka i nattens famn;
Men jag hviskar min älsklings namn,
|: Sjunger, sjunger min långa längtan,
Sjunger ensam vid Roines strand.:
Zacharias Topelius|

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.

THE ANGELS AND US

Matthew 18:¹⁰"See that you do not look down on one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven.

I consider myself belonging to the little ones and am proud to have various friends among them as well. People being without means or weapons to speak out for or defend themselves in the everyday rat race here on earth.
How I love the fact that every human being has its own personal angel reporting in front of the Lord's face.
It means above all the safe feeling of being seen, seen and cared for.

So are the hookers on the corner, the mute and seemingly helpless stroke patients, the street rebels, the plague ridden, the retarded, the various psychic ill, the soldiers and prisoners.
We are all unique and of equal value.
On my Mezuza is written:
Psalm 91: 11 For He will give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.
We are surrounded by legions of angels, ordered to be there for us.
This is the Bible's happy message for today.

BLOGGING MY WAY IN A MINE FIELD

My reasons for blogging in English are mixed. I want to write in English so I don't forget all I learned in school two life times ago. Reading is easy, thinking and writing is quite different. I also like to learn to know people from different cultures and values than my one. Being a Christian I find it interesting to learn how people on other continents are thinking and worshiping.
My dad used to teach me that in Our Father's Mansions there are many rooms. Guess I'd like to be acquainted with some of the people I'm hopefully going to meet on the other shore. I has been an interesting journey.

Most people have been polite and expressed their opinions highly and freely. Marvelous.
We all love our countries.
Some, more than others, seems to mean they are entitled to pass judgments on cultures and political systems they are hopelessly ignorant about. To be frank; that pisses me off. I'm fine with listening and learning. Pay respect and expect ditto, that should not be to hard to do, even for self righteouslies. I remember asking my daughter a couple of years ago, when I understood there were big differences in thinking and opinions. She came in and flipped a Coca Cola cork bottoms up. "Show them who you are" were the words of wisdom. I've let that be my policy. Where has it lead me? I've found genuine, sweet, loving, artistic, brave, honest, hardworking, intelligent people in three continents. I've been enriched, and hopefully somewhat wiser. Amrita has taught me a whole specter of rich Indian rainbow. She lives as she talks and wow, has she got wisdom and insight. Lidj has opened doors to her country as well as to her heart. I'm forever grateful and impressed. Robin has taught me a lot about the cradle of our belief and culture; Israel. The land God gave the Jews. Terry, my bestest ,has through her life and words revealed depths of Christian love I seldom see. Saija, Debbie and I share pieces of mutual background and culture. It has be so wonderful to experience how important roots and background are, and how the positively are building an identity, a ground wall for life. And there are Catholics, Jews, atheists, searchers, Methodists, Anglicans, Baptists and Pentecostals alike, politically ranging from blue/black to pink (in the broadest sense). How intriguing to try out if this variety of people can respect each others pluralism! Indeed I will go on blogging. I need getting more wisdom. I also have my own place to speak freely out when I feel the ugly smell of censorship.
Well, to quote father Shakespeare; "My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: Words without thoughts never to heaven go." At least I know where I am headed and why!

PILGRIM CHAPTER 33

See him wasted on the sidewalk in his jacket and his jeans
Wearin' yesterday's misfortunes like a smile
Once he had a future full of money, love and dreams
Which he spent like they was going out of style

And he keeps right on a changin' for the better or the worse
And searchin' for a shrine he's never found
Never knowin' if believin' is a blessin' or a curse
Or if the going up is worth to coming down

He's a poet, he's a picker, he's a prophet, he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher and a problem when he's stoned
He's a walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction
Taking every wrong direction on his lonely way back home

He has tasted good and evil in your bedrooms and your bars
And he's traded in tomorrow for today
Runnin' from the devil Lord and reachin' for the stars
And losin' all he loved along the way

But if this world keeps right on turning for the better or the worse
All he ever gets is older and around
From the rocking of the cradle to the rolling of the hearse
The going up was worth the coming down

He's a poet, he's a picker, he's a prophet, he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher and a problem when he's stoned
He's a walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction
Taking every wrong direction on his lonely way back home
There's a lot of wrong directions on that lonely way back home

Kris Kristofferson

RUBY HARVEST TIME

Redeeming the time.
Summer in the north is short, too short, even with the long, blond nights.
Time for entertaining guests indoor and outdoor, family and friends visiting.

Time for enjoying beach-life and the abundance of festivals.
Just now; time for harvesting. Today I've picked black and red currant and stuffed in the freezer. Likewise I've made tea from burn nettles (cures everything from gout, arthritis,galleries,prostate, ulcer and even cleanses the blood.) Serina says if I'd lived 300 years ago, I'd be burnt as a which.
Boxes and bottles are filled. This big tea box contains dried bog myrtle.
If you wonder; it cleanses the air especially in cellars and keep moth from eating our valuable bunads and linen.
The fragrance is just so fresh, I get "high" from inhaling it.

Originated by MaryT, check hers for today.