Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods

Is it a parallel world

 

Writing is becoming an important part of my life. I play with letters and words, I have my first book published, articles and reflections are on print, a children's advent blog is coming alive. I have ideas for more, for alot more, images fill my head and flow through my hand to written words. Words are blown into life.

I have established my own company, Blå Café Lindland, for my writing. Am I an artist? A writer?

Yesterday I went to a seminar after work to learn more about taxes, accounts, how to run a company. On my way there I stopped for a light dinner, and looking at myself in the restaurant mirror I couldn't prevent thoughts to flow. What will the future bring? Is my hunger for writing prismes in a parallel world? Never to come through? How can I find the time and the quiet I need for my writing in a world which is already filled to the brim with life, with work, with family.......with love.

Decisions have to be made. Not all desicions are easy. I want it all....... Do I want too much?

The picture is dim, from a parallel world. I want to blow life into it.

With new eyes.

After three weeks away I am back to work. I see the cathedral with new eyes.

 

 

 

 

Sisters

 

The smaller sister is growing up. Soon the two sisters have the same height. As time goes they become closer in age and interests, and seem to have alot to talk about. Arm in arm they dance down the street on their way to a newly opened Thai restaurant in town. Father's Day. A family meal for six.

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Yesterday was Father's Day here in Norway. We decided to make a close family circle and invited our two boys and two girl out for a meal. There is a new Thai restaurant in the city, opened by the mother of one of Marta's friends.

 

Favorite gift for father: memories

Back to cooking.

          Three weeks on Indian food, no cooking but watching, enjoying, learning. My kitchen will be influenced by the Indian kitchen in weeks, months and years to come. More vegetarian, more spices, more colours.

After a 30+ hours travel, and with NO problems at Heathrow this time (I looked for my Bali man but couldn't see him anywhere), I came home two hours past midnight. Marta and Terje met me at the airport, and I didn't recognize Marta, she is growing into such a beautiful young woman. We drove home and dived into our beds, I had had almost no sleep during my travel.

Jetlag followed me yesterday, but I could hardly stop talking, there were so much to tell about India.

In the afternoon it was time to gather the family, our two boys came home, and also a couple of young friends, so Marta and I spent a great time preparing a meal, shopping, cooking, chatting.

         On the menu: salmon, potatoes, carrots a cucumber salad, rømme (a kind of sour cream) and flatbrød. Marta made the delicious fruitsalad while I made a vanilla sauce for it.

           8 around the table. The food got running feet, laughter and talk filled the room. I breathed deeply. My life is here and now, in India or in Norway. It is given to me by my Father and Creator, the path lies there, it is only for me to follow and to be. Here and now.

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A new Blog of the Week. Enjoy Schnitzel and the Trout.

Back home where I belong

   

Home, with a heart and a suitcase filled with memories for a lifetime. Unpacking. Both boys will come home for dinner, a typical Norwegian one, and I will share my gifts. 

Good bye India.

 

Terje, Torgeir, Oystein, Ingrid and Marta - I AM ON MY WAY HOME!

The Winner of "the three Indian roses"

 

The winner of the "three Indian roses" from my post # 1000 is.......Elizabeth Scmid.  Thank you all for your comments.

The gifts from India will be mailed you as soon as I am back in Norway.

 

 

614 rock-cut steps

 

At 6.30 am we started our last adventure together, Vinay and I. With us was Yogi, the young boy who helps in the house. Our goal for the day was Sravanabelagola and Gomateshvara Statue.

 

"The 17,5 m-high statue of the Jain deity Gomateshvara, said to be the world's tallest monolithic statue, is visible long before you reach the pilgrimage of the town of Sravanabelagola. Viewing the statue close up is the main reason for heading to this sedate town, whose name means 'the Monk of the White Pond'. The statue's simplicity and serenity is in complete contrast to the complexity and the energy of the sculptural work at the Belur and Halebid temples", South India, Lonely Planet.

 

" The statue was commissioned by a military commander in the service of the Ganga king Rachamalla and carved out of granite by he sculptor Aristenemi in AD 981. Bahubali's father was the great Emperor Vrishabadhadeva, who became the first Jain tirthankar (revered Jain teachet), Adinath. Bahubali and his brother Bharatha competed fiercely for the right to succed their father but, on the point of victory, Bahubali realised the futility of the struggle and renounced his kingdom. He withdrew from the material world, entered the forest and meditated in complete stillness untill he attained enlightenment. The statue has vines curling around his legs and an ant hill at his feet, signs of his utter detachment. The gallery around his statue has many smaller images of Jain tirthankars" . South India, Lonely Planet.

 

"You must leave your shoes at the foot of the hill......Those who prefere not to tackle the steps can hire a dholi with bearers for Rs 150" South India, Lonely Planet.

  

It would have been fun to be carried, but of course I walked, fit as a fiddle;-) And had alot of fun doing that. Then you can stop, when you need to get your breath back, and there are always someone else who need to catch thier breath also and you can make friends,

 

or you can share a good laugh when a small boy comes running up like a puppie, making delighted noises.

 

India is filled with adventures, and I am filling up my adventure chest.

 

 

Ironing

                Can you believe that after three weeks as a princess here in Mysore, I miss my house and its homefun (read house work), I even miss the ironing. But most of all I miss Terje, Torgeir, Oystein, Ingrid Elise and Marta Kristin. And my parents. My mother emails me every day and I read her letters hungrily. Thank you dear Mom.

Now when my stay is almost coming to an end, and I know that I will be seeing them soon, I am counting days, soon I'll start counting hours.

          Carolyn sends her ironing away. "Of course I could do it myself" she says, "or Hema could do it. But this way I can support another family with their living."

The first time I went to the iron man it was his wife who did the ironing, he was sitting there watching life. The next time I came the wife was not there, and he was busy doing the work.

          My plane is leaving on Friday morning, a taxi will pick me up here late Thursday night. But untill then I have two full days to explore more of this fascinating country, to chat more with Carolyn and Hossy, to enjoy the meals and the friendliness of this house and this remarkable couple.

"Kindly do not park in front of the gate."

 

Lucky Cows, they never have to follow the signs!