I am at Røros again, this charming mining town, up in the mountains, two hours south of Trondheim. This time for two days with samien people, a group of indigenous people here in Norway.
When I was at Røros a month ago I did a walk in the old part of the small town, and through a gate, or more precise, from under a gate, this little charmeur was watching me. I wonder if I will meet him again.
Only two of us in The Blue Café last night, me and Marta. But we wanted something sweet for coffee, and Marta can never get enough of baking. With some leftover cream in the fridge and too much apples in the fruitbowl, I decided it was time to teach her to make apple pie.
Marta has her own notebook now, where she write down her recipes. And her collection is growing fast.
Photo: with such a good cake only the best china is good enough. Blue Flower Royal Copenhagen, given to me from my mother over many years.
As I girl I dreamed of becoming a writer, and I made up stories and fairytales all the time. One of my favorites was of the Fungus People living in the woods.
I worked out in the garden yesterday afternoon. Autumn is on it's way, and it is full time to clean up old leaves and pine needles. The air is very moist this autumn, and with this comes the growth of a wide variation of fungus. They have always fascinated me, the way they grow, their colours and shapes and how they are a perfect hiding place for the Fungus People.
The fungus on the photo were found behind our garage, and it was not difficult to see that it was the enchanted forrest of my childhood Fungus People. I watched for a long time, hoping to get a glimpse of them. I always saw a shadow or a back hiding behind a straw when I was a girl, I even spoke with a young Fungus boy once. I believe I saw something yesterday as well. Or was it only the shadow of a spider, his cobweb dancing in the wind? No, it was a tiny little Fungus girl. I am sure it was. and if you look close you can see her beautiful little hand waving from behind a stem.
Yesterday morning there was an e-mail in my mailbox from Davide at Cantina Campo dei Fiori. I celebrated my birthday there in April, and could go back any day to eat more of their fantastic, local food, to be in the cosy atmosphere.
In The Blue Café Italian food plays an important role, and the night before yesterday Ingrid Elise had asked me if I could make Spaghetti alla Carbonara for dinner the next day. Of course I could! The Italian cookbook was digged out from its shelf, a grocery list was written and - o,la,la, yesterday we three girls enjoyed our Spaghetti alla Carbonara, sprinkled with chives and paprika, fresh from the garden.
Our Italian inspired cooking will continue today. Spaghetti Pomodoro, with tomatoes from the garden, is on the menue. And Tha Blue Café is open for anyone.
All nature is praising the Creator. The song of glory is beautiful, sparkling, holy, eternal.
"And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind, and the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in itself after his kind: and God saw that is was good."
Creation live in praise and lament. Do you hear the song? Do you live your life following the rhythm? The purpose of life is to live in God's image, and there you never live alone, you live with and in all creation.
The photo shows the maple in our garden singing it's beautiful, sparkling praise. I rise my hands and sing along.
In Copenhagen we met this guy, acting a figure from Gone with the Wind. He tried to teach the girls how to act with him, but is was not easy with pedestrians everywhere watching. Their feet are doing a very good job though :-)
I never get tired of walking around in foreign cities, listening to street musicians, watching jugglers, artists dressed up like statues, or acting like this charmeur. Or just sit down on a bench somewhere watching the living of life itself.
Life itself amazes me. It is everywhere. You should never be taken for granted.
Inspired by Carol's blog Paris Breakfast, which I read almost daily, I made myself some tea and ate a few pieces of chocolate the other night.
Then, reading more from Carol's blog I decided it was time for me to do some sketching, and after some trying the Dutch antique china mug had it's image in my sketchbook.
I am no artist, but my sketchbook, and a small old chocolate box with pencils, colours, an eraser and a pencil sharpenes, follows me on my travels. The sketches I make are not for sale or exhibitions. They are for me, the delight I find in looking at the colours, trying them out, trying to put down on paper glimpses of what I see and feel. So though no real art, they are still art for me, and at school we were always told - practice makes the master!
I am giving Marta piano lessons. We have tried a piano teacher at the community's music school, but that didn't work. So now we are doing this together, the two of us.
She is playing the simple children's songs, but when we started she was totally clear - there was one special piece she wanted to play, Beethoven's Für Elize. So we are working our way through it, line by line, and Marta is doing great.
My mother is a piano teacher and a musician, and I can never get enough of her music. My mother's name is Marta, and now I hope the next Marta in the family can have the same pleasure in music as my mother has.
the photo is of our piano, which stands as a jewel in our livingroom, filled with music. Who wants to play?
Already during my first visit to Rome I fell in love with the restrooms. Not that they always were clean and fresh, but how they all were situated down in basements, inside antique walls, down olds, crooked stairs. I remember saying to myself that one day it would be fun to write a book about them.
Yesterday I spent the night in Bodø, and waiting for a late plane south to Trondheim I had dinner at Svendgård's, a gourmet restaurant downtown this artic city. The food was excellent, and so was the service, the interior, the atmosphere. But what captured me most was the restroom! With is't Botticelli border. I had to visit twice just because of Botticelli, one of my favorite Italian painters, and on my second visit I brough my camera :-)
All texts and photos by Britt-Arnhild Wigum Lindland
I am living in a red house surrounded by a blue garden near Trondheim, Norway. I love everydays and post about my steps through life. Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods is open to everybody. Welcome over!