Finally Ruby Tuesday again

It's finally time and space in my life to participate in a new Ruby Tuesday.
My mother has been ill for 4 weeks now, so ill they didn't give us any hope she would survive.Here she's home from the hospital, studying the Scarf Sister Bible. I think she's looking swell, but then again, I am not objective in this matter. Mom is living with Gunnar and me for the time being, but we've got nurses attending to her 5 times a day. One of the benefits of living in a country with health care for ordinary people.
My mother lost two of her siblings in less than two weeks prior to her heart collapse. Now she's looking at the family picture to the left every day, telling old family tales and mourning at the same time.

Here's Gunnar's friend Per visiting. He's fond of elderly people and not afraid of giving an old lady a hug.
I guess he prefers his wife and his brand new Alfa Romeo though, in that order.


I steeled out in the garden for a minute yesterday. Only two ripe apples on our apple tree.

I'm not quite sure about this photo fiddling, but as always, I'm in a hurry and eager to show you our first price product.



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In hope to God alone

I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT HAVING HAD THE OPPORTUNTY TO REVISIT ALL MY GUESTS THIS WEEK. MY MOTHER IS ILL AND ALL MY SPARETIME IS SPENT WITH HER. I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR EACH AND EVERYONE COMMENTING, PRAYING AND CARING FOR MY FAMILY. WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS MY FEELINGS. I'LL BE BACK SOON. TILL THEN; GO WITH GOD. LOVE FELISOL

I DON'T WANT TO SAY GOODBYE

This has definitely been a season when I have learned to seize the moment. Midst in storm, rain, family losses, illness and terror on Norwegian soil, I have had wonderful hours of beauty, sun and tranquillity. More than any-time before I value everyday life, with all its blessings and wonders. Like these double soapwort plants I learned to know for the first time, at our favourite beach on the island. The bouquet was lying on my side of the dashboard as we were leaving after a relaxing afternoon. They smell wonderfully,- like soap and I am now waiting for the flowers to set seed for my herb garden next year.

Painting white houses and red boathouses is an unwritten rule all along the coastline. The old fishermen and farmers also had an eye for beauty. Here at a pit stop on the long, but unique road from my Mom to Haugesund.

Late evenings and spectacular sundowns are Nordic summer specials. Who on earth would want to go to bed while the nature is playing its colourful summer rhapsodies?

Or when the silvery moon tells secrets from faraway solar systems to the sea and the wind in the dark, velvet nights.

Daughter Serina is fading away from a turbulent summer to her last semester at Volda. She had to grow up in a hurry, working for the second largest TV network in Norway the weeks around 7.22.
She will be doing fine. God bless her and protect her on her 12 hour long road trip which she's about to embark on, while I am writing.



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Cocoon life

These past weeks life has been a bit too much to all of us.
My mother severely injured after a nasty fall , my aunt and uncle dead within a week, over night visits from favourite cousin Arne and friends of Serina; a looping rollercoaster. Still there's a funural to attend to, while Serina is keeping my mother with company.
After that I shall take the round and thank each and everyone of you who have prayed for us and shared encouraging words.
I know that is why we are still able to find some breathing holes, like this one on the terrace with sweet Amidala.

Redeeming Time

Ephesians 5:16 was one of my father's favourites and has also become one of mine. Particularly the words about "redeeming the time".

While looking for a usable English translation of these words, I stumble over a net place called Biblos.com. They explain redeeming the time like this:

"Redeeming the time - The word rendered here as "redeeming," means "to purchase; to buy up" from the possession or power of anyone; and then to redeem, to set free - as from service or bondage; notes."



We have bee through some really rough waters the eight days. First my mother's youngest sister Henny died at the age of 82. The my mother had the secon severe fall in a month. This time down the outdoor concrete stairs. We were met here on the city hospital and she was thoroughly examined till about midnight. No broken bones, and my mother decided she would return home to Sauda. Gunnar and I of course followed. Kind of blessing in disguise; my mother accepted more help from public home nursing. They now come twice a day and bring hot food four times a week.
Back in Haugesund Serina returned from her summer job in Bergen.



Yesterday we read that this was the last Sunday our favourite cafe was to stay open. On our way to town we called my Sister in law and her daughter, who also happened to be home from her studies.
The four of us spent four hours in the cafe. The lovely coffee-house owner gave us cookies and home made confect to go when we left.

Today we got the sad news that my mother's little brother, 84, had died during the night.
Serina and I are off to my Mom, while Gunnar is keeping the fortress here in Haugesund.
How lucky I am for the four hours of healing redeeming time at the cafe yesterday.
Thanks to niece Kristine Marina and SIL Sigrid for being the there with us, and sending the pictures yesterday evening.

Kreml the Norwegian way

One late summer evening last week there finally came some hints of blue on the sky.
We immediately saddled up for a local photo safari, armed with coffee, chocolate buns and cameras.
I'd never had a close look on this particular church before.
It's built in 1938; thorough Art Deco style.
From this special angel I found it had a Kreml-ish wild mix about it.
I must return for further exploration of the inside. The stained glass windows look interesting. Makes me wonder what the architect has done with the ceiling.
Don't you like finding treasures like this just " around the corner of your home"?

A good way of swearing

The composer Harald Severud had a nephew, who for a while was teaching piano in my home-town Sauda back in the early sixties.
Once his famous uncle came and explained the background for this mighty piano piece.
Back in 1942, while Norway was occupied by the Germans and the Nazi terror was at its worst, Severud felt overcome by both anger and powerlessness.
His father had strongly forbidden his boy to swear, so even as an adult this was not an option.
Instead he composed this mighty Kjempeviseslott, "Ballad of Revolt", which for ever has stood as a symbol of resistance to injustice and terror.
I never learned to play the piano, but I never forgot this concert from my early youth.
These days this "protest music" once more help channelling my emotions.
Thought I'd like to share.

For the Youth

This poem (it's not actually a hymn) and this very scene melted my frozen heart.
I needed that special song to get my ice converted to tears and leave my body.

Roses in the wind

Goodbye Norway's roses
May you ever grow in our hearts
You were the grace that placed itself
Where lives were torn apart.

After Elton John

I shall not comment much on what is going on in my heart.
Just this; People are marching tonight, filling the streets of Norway with roses in their hands.
A survivor of the massacre said, "If one man can do so much cruelty; how much more love don't we have to give, to conquer evil?"

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Counter Fire

A warm and heartfelt thank you, for the mails and greetings on my blog these last tragic days in the history of Norway.

My inside froze to a thick ice block when Serina sms'ed from Bergen quay; "A bomb is just exploded in the government quarters in Oslo. She came directly from work in a TV station to meet us for a jolly weekend in beautiful Rosendal. We had booked room in the most expensive hotel there, and bought theatre tickets to was an English Shakespeare Company perform the merry "Much Ado about Nothing" played at Rosendal Barony.

I immediately went into defence. "I don't want the TV on. It's those Muslim terrorists. We never should given refuge to those bastards." I curled down on the bed, while Gunnar and Serina watched their iPhones in silence. We dressed up and went to the performance together with a flock of cultivated ostriches. The hall was packed and we all applauded and laughed at the right places.

After a better late dinner we returned to our room. I closed my eyes, the other flipped their phones. Gunnar said in a soft voice, "But it weren't the Muslims; it was a blond, beautiful, well trained arch Aryan and Neo-Nazi. It did not make me feel better, but I still kept my silence. At 3 a.m. I asked Serina to turn off her cell phone and light- I could not sleep. Neither could my poor daughter.

The following day we followed our precious plans. We went to an art exhibition and toured the park and manor of Rosendal. People were buzzing all around us. I simply denied to let me be dragged into the blood thirsty sensationalism, and let my inner ice block grow.

We separated; Serina to Bergen, we to Haugesund. From my safe bed I watched some short news clippings, and went into stupor. Safe, silent, motionless coma. I listened the speech of our King Harald. I love our king. "Attack against democracy, against the unarmed, peaceful life in our beloved Norway. We shall and will not have this. We must not yield to fear nor to hatred." I nodded and slept further, emotionally exhausted.

The thing about Norway is, when tragedy hits, we all turn to the church. 80,7 % are members of the church of Norway, but the church opens its doors to anyone. It's the ministers, not the police who are the messengers of unexpected deaths. In any crisis team you will find doctors, nurses, psychologists and ministers. Few hours after the bombing people begun bringing flowers and candles in front of Oslo Cathedral. They kept coming and coming and coming.During last night there was a heavy rain. Some made it their duty to keep the lights burning all night. When the dawn came the candles were still burning. There was a memorial service in the Oslo Cathedral this morning. The members of the Royal Family were present, so was the Prime Ministers, the Government and the rest of the 1000 seats were open to any citizen who wanted. They started queuing at 9 a.m. Worthy and quiet. There were not "airport checking of the mourners. Not metal detectors or body visitations. This was our nations counter attack. Not to be overpowered by evil, but with burning candles and common church service go on with our lives as we have done till now. Or even, hopefully better. I dosed in my bed while the service went on, but sat upright as the whole congregation song one of the songs I love the most, and have sung for Serina from she was a child. For the youth. Suddenly my inward ice melted, and I sung along, while my tears flooded.

Til Ungdommen by Nordahl Grieg

English translation
By Rod Sinclair (2004)

For the Youth

(double click on the title for the Wikipedia link)

Faced by your enemies
On every hand
Battle is menacing,
Now make your stand

Fearful your question,
Defenceless, open
What shall I fight with?
What is my weapon?

Here is your battle plan,
Here is your shield
Faith in this life of ours,
The common weal

For all our children’s sake,
Save it, defend it,
Pay any price you must,
They shall not end it

Neat stacks of cannon shells,
Row upon row
Death to the life you love,
All that you know

War is contempt for life,
Peace is creation
Death’s march is halted
By determination

We all deserve the world,
Harvest and seed
Hunger and poverty
Are born of greed

Don’t turn your face away
From needs of others
Reach out a helping hand
To all your brothers

Here is our solemn vow,
From land to land
We will protect our world
From tyrants’ hand

Defend the beautiful,
Gentle and innocent
Like any mother would
Care for her infant.

A tear-wet king and 5 million candles shall besiege the heartless, evil cruelty, now and always, so help us God.