Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods

The angel came and left.....in a hurry

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The kids were on their way, well, at least three of them, the forth is celebrating Easter in Amsterdam (and Marius, Ingrid's boyfriend is working). Terje and I drove to the village for grocery shopping. A lot of food is needed when the cabin fills up..

Coming back we met a challenge, the steep slope where we park our car was completely covered in deep snow. Terje's first attempt was to drive up the hill, then he backed down, turned the car and tried to back up. All in vain.

The process made me a bit nervous, I left the car to see if I could be of any help from outside, instead of sitting in the passenger seat with all my oh no, this is never going to work....... Then, from out of the blue, a snow plow came down on the main road. He saw us, he came, he showelled away the snow, he made parking space for two cars and then drove again in the blink of an eye.

Through it all I stood completely still, I didn't even remember to take a photo.........how strange, this is the first time in my life I have seen a real angel, he drove a snow plow, he made the way for us, and he knew, of course he knew, that we needed parking space for two cars in the middle of the steep hill. And I forgot to take a photo of the snow plow driving angel.......

 

Well, an angle know about this, of course an angel knows, that we needed space for two cars I mean......

........and I, I had been praying all day for a safe travel over the snowy mountain for Øystein, Ingrid and Marta, had't I? And though I had forgotten to play for a parking space, the angel knew.

With thankful smiles we carried our purchases up through the steep forest to Rastarbo.

I started to prepare a salad for lunch while Terje walked back to the car to greet the kids when they arrived.

Over the brook....

....up through the snow.

Winter in April has its challenges, and its charm.

 

Afterwaord - new challenges came when we were climbing the path up to the cabin. The snow in the trees were so heavy, several trees snapped and fell under the  weight of the snow.

 

Spring break or what?

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From comments and emails I understand that you call this week Spring Break in  the US. This photo should clearly explain why we don't take the word "spring" in our mouth here in Norway yet ;-)

 

To be honest, there are voices in Norway wanting the take away the word Easter, wanting to forget that we are a country, a people of Christian belief. I am glad we still have the word Easter, that we still, at least some few of us, celebrate Easter, and are into The Holy Week these days.

So no Spring Break here, but why would winter have to come back, with full force? Why can't I celebrate Holy Week outside on a sunny terracce among the soon to bloom daffodills? Now my hundreds of yellow Easter flowers are wearing their fluffy white robe, and I watch the world through our cabin windows.

 Luckily the huge panorama widows of the cabin are not covered in snow like this small window to our "little house", the "toilet"

 

 

Spring or Easter, terracce life or covered in snow life.........cabin life is never boring.

For example, you can dig out your car from the snow and drive in to the tiny little village Todal, where 17 people live, and visit the tiny little brocante and retro shop Tingstuo

In Tingstuo the owner Synøve serves your husband coffee and chocolate while you can browse around hunting for treasures, with no husband to ask - do we need this, what will you do with that? I had planned to visit Tingstuo alone, but needed a husband to dig out my car, and to drive along the snow covered lanes out there........

Tingstuo has even more treasures this time (can you remember I went there during winter break as well?), or was it that I had more time to browse now?

 A plate with roses for The Blue Garden, then another plate with other roses, also fort the same garden, two small plates with yellow and blue flowers for Rastarbo, salt and pepper shakers for my new collection, a pair of old,  beautiful hand crocheted potholders, textiles and hand embridery.......

For a long time I forgot all about winter.....

 .....and  almost buy myself a retro, childhood memories, spring basket

If you ever come to Rastarbo (our cabin), and weather is not good enough for terracce life, I will take you to Tingstuo. And if the weather is good enough for terracce life, we will have a break and go to Tingstuo anyway.

 

Easter time at cabin.

Snow or no snow. Life is beautiful.

 Have a blessed Holy Week.

And stay warm.

Still some melancholy, but also pleasant surprises

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"You do not seem to have melancholy traces like last winter" Mrs Steglich commented in yesterday´s blog post. Can you remember last winter one of my goals was to gain a more positive attitude to this long, cold season.

Winter is still my less favorite time of the year. The cold. The icy, slippery roads. Nothing is growing.

I know that life is hidden somewhere deep under layers of snow and ice. I know that life will sprout. Eventually.

I also know that winter has its own beauty. Living with four seasons is a blessing. The constant change. The rythm of life.

With Mrs. Steglish´s words in my mind I walked out in the garden with my camera. My goal was to express the challenges of winter. What I found was beauty. Ice cold, challenging. Still beauty.

 

Back inside I started to prepare myself a left over simple dinner. Terje worked late, Marta had eaten at school as they are busy right now rehearsing a theatre performance.

I looked out the kitchen window and saw some fresh deer tracks. Ot had been snowing, so I knew the trachs had to be fresh, but I could see no deer.
Not untill I came back to the livingroom and looked out in The Blue Garden 

Photos through the window are never the best, still, that was all I could do.

The deep snow makes it hard for the long legged animals to walk, and hard for all animals to find enough food.
Hunger makes them search for something to eat close to where people live. 

For a blink of an eye our eyes met.

I have never been this close a deer before.

"I am hungry" the eyes told me, "I am no more lover of winter than you are"

Then he slowly turned around and walked back to the forest.

 

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March 8th, Women´s International Day.

I am celebfating it by reading Simone de Beauvoir

And so this is winter........

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It is good to be home. My own bed, my own breakfast table, my own husband, my own job. And I love it.

There is one thing I don´t love though.

Can you guess what?

We came home to a world filled with snow.

Snowdrops were blooming in the London parks.

Snow, real snow, is the only thing blooming in The Blue Garden.

 

When we left London I knew what I would come back to.
Terje had been working with snow on the roads here in Trondheim all weekend.
Day and night.

For a moment, for many moments I let my thoughts fly..........what if I was free to stay. I could follow the girls out to Heathrow, then I could go back to London, walk in the parks.....

........and then I could take the train, or a bus, out of London, to Roz and her Autumn Cottage Garden.
There I would ask for a bed, for three meals a day, a lot of tea and may be a glass of wine in the evening........and offer myself to work in Roz´s garden.

Roz, don´t feel too safe.

One day you will find me on your doorstep.

The start of a Mother´s Day

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Today is Mother´s Day in Norway. The pure, virgin snow came as a Mother´s Day gift. The old snow had become so dirty, so icy, the white world this morning is a true blessing. Hopefully there will be time after dinner for a long, snowy walk.

I was up early, but when I came out of the shower, Terje was already out. Doing what you have to do on a snowy day like this. With wet hair I grabbed my camera and ran out. The morning was too beautiful.

All our neihgbours have motorized machines to help with the shoveling. Terje has never had one, has never wanted one. Why, he asks. Snow shoveling is a perfect excercise, and I get it for free.

Roses from Terje are already on the table. The first Mother´s Day gift came as an email from amazon.co.uk, a gift certificate from son Øystein.

And the day is still young.

Happy Mother´s Day. To all mothers in Norway. And to all mothers around the world, why not use the opportunity to have a Norwegian celebration :-)

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What is your favorite Mother´s Day tale?

I rememer one year, about 15 years ago. I spent Mother´s Day at a youth camp. With about 100 teenagers. I was the only mother there. I got all the hugs!

Winter in Europe

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King Winter is holding Europe in a tight grip. King Winter is on top of his manhood force these days, he feel people longing for spring, for the first snowdrops, for the dripping from the roofs. He hates this longing. He still has so much to cold to give. And he is strong. 

I look at photos from further south. A snow filled Rome. Children building snowmen in Croatia. Traffic chaos in Germany. Iced fontaine water in Spain.

In my own little city a layer of cold snow has covered the ice, making walking and driving unsafe.

It took me ages yesterday to walk from the restaurant where I had lunch with Ingrid. She had an appointment and I walked back to the car alone. Thanked God for every step which still found me safe on my two feet. The wipers failed to clean the front window when I drove, ice were too strong.

Finally at home I told Terje: "I am going to hibernate. NO MORE DRIVING FOR ME this winter." One hour later Terje sat down in his favorite armchair to watch boathlon on the television when Marta called from cheer leading practice. "We just missed the bus. Will you please come and pick us up?"

So much for the hibernating.
A bear needs all winter.
All I got was one hour! 

 

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Take a look at Mail Online to see amazing winter photos from Europe

Tales along the road

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The winter has given us one storm after another. As I sit here typing this, early Saturday morning, all is quiet outside. Yesterday morning was different. The news were filled with car accident stories, several of them fatal. The funeral was outside Trondheim, near the coast, a 100km drive and a ferry ride away. On our way we passed several trucks which had driven into the ditch, hailstorms hit us and the roads were slippery. But Terje is an experienced driver. I felt safe all the way. Safe enough to chat comfortably, safe enough to listen to music, safe enough to take a nap.

With music filling the car I let my thoughts drift around old memories, and when Ola Bremnes sang about an old guitar of his, I was taken back to when I was 15 and got my own guitar. I played day and night, teaching myself, the world´s most charming boy taught me, but most of all I loved to listen to this boy, playing, singing. I was deeply in love. So was he. Both of us were too shy to say anything. Eyes meeting over his guitar spoke it all though. Once we went to a camp together. We played a kind of guessing game where we formed groups of two and two which had to walk around to different posts, answering questions. I was asked to sit guard at the last post, asking a question. The charming boy was asked to sit at the first one. When everybody had been at his post, he came over to sit with me. My heart beat like thunder. I was sure he must hear it when we sat there in the silence, waiting for people to come. Then one came and I had to ask the question which was written on the paper I had been given "who sat at the first post"

The boy and I looked at each other. All of us knew of course that he was the answer. And as long as he sat there with me, everybody would remember. We all laughed, though my heart cried when he rose and left. I so much wanted him to keep on sitting here, at the post under a huge fir tree. Just me and him.

Sitting safe in the car with Terje. On our way to a tear filled funeral. A heart filled with love for my husband through almost 32 years. The little girl I once was, the teenager in love, the young student waiting for life to unfold, the fresh mother filled with dreams, the middle aged woman safe and comfortable in the middle of a hail storm.

 

Thank you very much for sharing your tales on yesterday´s post.

BALISHA, your Christmas story toughed my heart deeply. We all have a lot to learn from it, a lot to pay forward. Thank you.

ANNA BLUEBELL , good luck with your memoires

Thank you IN THE SILENCE

NICCA, I love your stories from Venice. One day I hope we can meet, may be in......Venice :-)

GEMA, how lovely to have your childhood stories to bring with you through life. Thanks for sharing.

UP, thank you!!!!!! (a separate email is sent you), Readers, you should all go to UP´s blog to learn from him how to look at life with a smile though all its hardship.

MARTA B, that´s so funny :-) Poor driver.

ELY, thanks for commenting.

 

And the giveaway............

the handwritten letter........

 

Of course I can not chose just one of you. Send me your snail mail address and I will write you a letter.

Daylight Hours at the Pilgrim Center

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Nidaros Pilgrim Center, close to Nidaros Cathedral. A goal for pilgrims from all over the world. Not as big as Santiago de Compostela, but more and more pilgrims find their way to Nidaros every year.

Nidaros Pilgrim Center. Perfect for photographing. Close to the river.

The 12 deans of Nidaros diocese are gathered in Trondheim for a three days meeting. As I am a member of the bishop and diocese management team, I take part when the deans have their meetings with the bishop and director.

Morning prayers in the cathedral. Long days at the pilgrim center. Dark when I leave The House in the Woods in the morning. Dark again many hours before I am back home.

The lunch break is essential. I eat my lunch fast and leave the table while the others are still deep in eating and conversation.

It is time for my daylight hour natural treatment.

Dressed in my high, bright red wellingtons, kid skin mittens, an old, old, warm winter coat, two shawls, I take my camera with me and walk out.

My favorite walk. Along the river.

Back to the pilgrim´s garden and its winter beauty.

In my mind I sit down on the bench. Sharing sacred moment with a best friend.

Sitting on a snowy bench, in a pilgrim´s garden, during a daylight hour in deep winter. Together with a best friend.

Imaginary.

Real.

You can see that I have the best job in the whole wide world, can´t you?

 

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Who would you share a daylight hour with on the snowy bench? What would you talk about? Or may be be silent with?

The January Light

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The winter cold I have is bothering me. It steals sleep during the night, energy during the day. Apparently most of the people I talk to these days have or have had the cold, and everybody tells me it stays for a long, long time. Pleasant future prospects :-(

I stayed home from work two days last week. I should may be have stayed home longer. But when you are on the line between fit and ill, staying at home when "all the interesting stuff" happens at work, is boring. It is not for me! So I cough my way through the nights, drag myself trough the days. Hoping for better days. Always hoping for better days.

When I am feeling under the weather, my days too easily feel dark, heavy. Joy and laughter play hide and seek and I don´t have the energy to seek them out.

Then I start worrying about everything. My weight. The kids. The future. The Arabic Spring. The people of Syria. Young girls being raped in Nigeria. A humanitarian catastrophy building up in South Sudan. The Wall in The Middle East.

The more I knit up of these dark threads, the more knotty and black they get.

 

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I was low spirited when I started my sunday morning walk......actually it was more lunchtime than morning. Lucky for me it was more lunchtime than morning. I forced myself to lift my eyes from my black knotted knitting to the light of the day.

The January light. Which up here is like nothing else, at least like nothing else further south. As I walked, my feet started a silent conversation with God. And as I walked on, God spoke to me, still without words. As my eyes rised more and more, my heart opened. I still bore with me the suffering of the world, a big WHY, and huge WHAT CAN I DO? But in the middle of this, God showed me beauty, and after a while he broke the silence to tell me - I Am The Light.

After a while I found a cafe and sat down with a cup of hot chocolate, filled with a huge top of whipped cream. Still with the world, its people and its suffering on my mind. But now also with a deep thankfulness. "I am The Light"

After a while I walked on.  

God, show me the way and make me willing to walk it

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Afterword:

I am not sure what happened. I had planned a romantic, easy post about the beauty of winter light. The kind of post I know my readers love, the kind of post I know will give a lot of comments. I started with the title The January Light. Then quite other words came. More honest words? I don´t know. To tell about the beauty of January light is also honestly meant. From my heart. But those words did not come. 

I am not sure what happened?

Or may be I am?

Neighborhoods

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Usually I am not at home during daylight in the deep winter. The flu made my week different. One day I braved the cold, dressed in my warmest coat and went outside to shot snow photos of the House in the Woods and its neighborhoods.

Days like this, completely snow covered, are rare. As soon as the wind comes, the snow is blown off the trees. Days like this are whole and completely beautiful.

Our mailbox is the one in the middle. It always has room for more letters and postcards...........

One of the trees back there blew down during the hurricane Dagmar last week.

The carport.

Up the road. This is what I see from my studio window. Can you remember when I saw the mooses here? 

Still Christmas indoors.

The Blue Garden asleep. Spring is still a long way ahead.

What does your neighborhood look like these days?