Interior collage

Selv gamle damer er opptatt av interiør og design. Som pensjonist tilbringer man mer tid hjemme enn noensinne. Livet går i sakte valsetakt. Gjenbruk har vært et ideal siden oljekrisen tidlig på syttitallet. Jeg har satt sammen et stilleben av gamle tekstiler og gjenstander fra loppemarkeder, Fretex samt småfunn og litt arvegods.
I bakgrunnen et dansk litografi, fransk kjeksreklame, og norsk rosemalingsbrett. Bedehuskaffekjelen som rommer 5,5 liter fant jeg i en mørk kjeller. Ståluglen, en brevpresse som er formet etter høyrehånd, og både signert og nummerert, er min manns loppetrofe som jeg har kidnappet for ti år tilbake. Har valgt en sjokkrosa, steintøy 2 CV sparebørse til center piece.Second hand Torbjørn Egner og David Baird utgaver symboliserer kjærlighet til bøker fra vugge til grav.



Tinnuglelysestakene er arvegods, mens plastkoppen til høyre er en overlevning fra en henfaren thermos. Lappeteppene er annengangs gjenbruk fra bruktbutikken. Den turkis husmorstolen med stålunderstell og små hjul fra femtitallet er også funnet, mens pleddet til kr.39,50 ble kjøpt på Fretex sist fredag. Ingen bestemt stilart, men mange glade minner fra et levd liv.


Even old ladies like me fancies interior design. After all I spend most of my time at home. I like to rearrange my old and new findings. Recycling has been my contribution to a greener world since the 1970-ies. Daughter Serina has encouraged me to read the blogs of Todd Selby. Here I was inspired to compose a still life contribution for a competition on a Norwegian "fabulous" interior blog .


Dette er mitt bidrag til interiørbilde.
Linking to .::{fabelaktig}::.
Take a peek at her wonderful Scandinavian modern interior designs.

De Profundis

Serina has taught me how to blur a background. Yesterday's blessing.
My soul is singing De Profundis.
When all promises and words of comfort are failing, there are always the Psalms.


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

Blessed Day

Living with chronic diseases in two towns has made our little family exhausted, vulnerable, but also thankful for the many blessings other may take for granted.
Last week was no exception I had a doctor's appointment, aa physiotherapist appointment, Serina and I went to stay with my Mom for three days and sought things out about her health and house. We had a great time together, went out to a confectionery and met with many of Mom's friends.


We drove home through a blizzard to reach my physiotherapist. Small, curvy Norwegian winter roads along a steep fjord side are not for amateurs. Serina is luckily no cowardice snail, but a very skilled driver. Surrounded by angels in front and after, we came home whole and healthy.

I use my refrigerator door as a memory board. I'm collecting GOOD memories. Like yesterday when we were at an art exhibition, the first this year. A video installation picturing the life of an elderly window, her memories from a long life both in Norway and America.

Serina offered to make us dinner. After living 4 years away from home she has developed into an excellent cook. Darwin would have loved her; "Survival of the fittest. "
.Salmon baked in oven with potatoes, red pepper, garlic,cheese, yoghurt and leek. Yummy.

We had double espressos and ice for desert in the living room. Serina came up with the marvellous idea of reading loud from Tolkien's The Hobbit. She got the novel for Christmas and was very well aware that neither I nor her father had bothered to read the book.
Besides Christmas Eve we hardly practice loud reading much nowadays. It made great fun, and while the ice was melting, our minds were blooming.

Serina and Gunnar alternated reading while I sat fiddling with my camera. Serina is headed for studies in Ireland next week, and needs to practice English pronunciation.

Gunnar also found it easier reading from the ipad after awhile. The letters in the Hobbit pocket book are very small indeed. Imagine, it's 75 years since it first was published. One of Serina's favourite actors is busy filming the book on New Zealand these days.


Meanwhile I sat admiring a lithograph I bought short time before Christmas. I like the mix of figurative and abstract expression. My head was filled with hobbits, wizards, trolls dwarf and elves, and after two chapters I know for certain this is a novel I'm going to finish on my own. I cannot imagine why I haven't read it earlier. Maybe it was recommended by the wrong people??

It's been a long time since I have been enjoying the peace and togetherness of our family this much. Even my telephone call to my mother was relaxing. My best friend from my childhood and her husband were paying my mother a much appreciated visit. I just felt how my tense shoulders were relaxing. Other of my best friends are living in our books, they are stacked in every room of our home.


My old Remington Portable is accompanying my PCs in the library, decorated with a postcard from Dublin Writers Museum.
I bet Serina will repay the place a visit during her one semester stay at Griffith College. I know parting will be tough. The only thing worse, would be her not being able pursuing her dreams making a future for herself.

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

Books, Bread and Roses

I've bought myself presents for this Christmas. Really, I so deserved them.. Books are written by authors John Cowart and Barbara White. Cowart is writing about almost any theme under the sun, and he does it well. His rock is his Christian belief, not that of a Sunday Christian, but the real thing, that of a whole person devoted to God through sun and rain, mud and silk. I love him.

I've actually set up my own shop this autumn, a Norwegian edition of Etsy, selling old goods,- using the money to buy new old treasures. Like this old bowl hand painted in farmer's rose pattern. They are rare to come by, and I love mine.

The saying "bread and roses" goes way behind. I'm among those women, who buy flowers, when buying groceries.
The Christmas decorations are well tucked away in the attic. Now we are longing for brighter days to come. I need to see spring indoors, even if the storm is howling outside.

I just today found this poem by James Oppenheim. It has kind of a jubilee,being written in 1912. I never knew its origin before I Googled "bread and roses" for this post. A textile strike in Laurence, Massachusetts took place from January till March 1912 with mainly female employees.

As we come marching, marching in the beauty of the day,

A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,

Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,

For the people hear us singing: "Bread and roses! Bread and roses!"

As we come marching, marching, we battle too for men,

For they are women's children, and we mother them again.

Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;

Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses!

As we come marching, marching, unnumbered women dead

Go crying through our singing their ancient cry for bread.

Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.

Yes, it is bread we fight for -- but we fight for roses, too!

As we come marching, marching, we bring the greater days.

The rising of the women means the rising of the race.

No more the drudge and idler -- ten that toil where one reposes,

But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses! Bread and roses!

Magical Mystery Teacher is hosting Ruby Tuesday 2
You'll be amazed what wonderful ruby themes and writings you'll find there.
She's co-hosted by Gemma Wiseman
a clever wisewoman.



Badge created by Gattina. Pay her and her cats a visit too.

Amidala's latest sport

Our dear cat, Amidala, has conquered new hunting grounds this Christmas.

Her favourite targets are the red Christmas tree bulbs.
She knows she not allowed to kill indoors, but the call of the wild is just too strong.

Here she has managed to pull one bulb down while I was adjusting the camera. She rapidly pretended to have struck gold in the flower pot as she detected the camera lens.

The target is about to become the fourth victim this Christmas. The others were crushed against the wall. My greatest fear is that she'll be hurt by the glass shards.

Amidala cannot resist the sound of a cracking catch. She's pullling the bulbs up against the wall till there's nothing left, but an empty shell.

Gunnar had to carry the reckless warrior away to protect her from getting hurt. Amidala sure is not amused.

New Year, Old Life

Yesterday was December 31nd 2011. Today is January 1st 2012.
I don't feel different, more hopeful or happier.
Life is as challenging as it ever has been, and there's nothing I can do about it.
Other than maybe, keep on keeping on.
Or maybe not.
With only my ME alive and kicking, I am simply an exhausted overachiever, "tight as a tourniquet, sharp as a razor blade, dry as a funeral drum."(David Gilmore)

There are good days, bed days and bad days.

Then there are these days when I feel an intense need to let all masks fall, to stop fighting, and let nature take its cause.
But, halt; nature too is created by God.
My God, the one and only.

"For I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God; whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another; though my reins be consumed within me."—Job 19:25-27

I know that, and that is all I am allowed to know about the future.
So be it.
I've decided these must be the promises, the cliff on which I shall build my New Year.
Now, I've better go to the TV and join the wonderful New Year concert in Vienna.
Great way to continue keeping on.