Text an images Britt Arnhild Wigum Lindland
I had a meeting at St.Olav's hospital yesterday,with a deacon and a priest working there. The hospital is under a total renovation. Many old buildings are disappearing, new modern builtings to be seen everywhere. "Meet us in the old 1902-building" was the message I got, "the red brick one".
I came there early was instantly set back 40 years, I was twelve again and spent time in hospital.
Nothing serious, today no one would have dreamt of keeping me in hospital for two weeks. Life was different back in 1970. Somehow they never found a bed for me in the children's department, so for two weeks I lived in a four bed's room with grown up women.
I remember long, boring days, looking out the window down on the park with the huge old trees, walking over to the small kitchenette to find myself something to drink, but most of all reading, reading, reading. I know I have told you before that I discovered Mary O'Hara's books about Flicka during these weeks.
Twice a week a woman came to the rooms with a wheel chart filled with books. No spesific children's books, but still she did her best to find something for me. Yesterday I saw that there is now a library in the building. How I would have loved that 40 years ago. I guess I would have spent all days there. Browsing the shelves, smelling the books, reading, dreaming, flying with wings of words.
I am not sure what I want with this post. Just a short walk down memory lane.
It is Saturday morning in The House in the Woods, and as so often I am awake and up too early, way too early. King Winter has a strong grip on us and I have made a fire both in the huge wood stove down in the basement, and in the open hearth here in the livingroom. I've had my cup of tea and my two pieces of bread with Bosnian honey in front of the fire. Later Marta and I will go downtown for some Christnas craft shopping. Now I open a children's book I've wanted to read for a long time, a book sent me by a blog reader (I do get quite a few books from you, mostly as wonderful surprises, and love every single one of them); The Winter Child by Wendy Froud and Terri Windling.
Down in an outer basement room and outside the playhouse in the garden I know there is enough wood to keep us warm though the winter....
......and tomorrow the first advent candle will be lit.