Text and image Britt-Arnhild Wigum Lindland
I am not living on travel dreams only. Of course I am not.
Here and now is too important for that.
Like yesterday when Marta and I went downtown for a mother-daughter shopping day. Started at Ordning&Reda to buy stationary and albums. Marta's confirmation is coming up in May, now we are working on the invitation cards. She is creative this daughter of mine, yes, I can tell you she is creative. The design she will be using in invitations, placemat cards, menues, the memory album for the day and so on is absolutely stunning. I might show you some day, but still it is a secret.
We went on to buy clothes (for me!), then shoes for both of us, continued to Ravnkloa for shrimps (for Saturday nights dinner) and the lovely shop next door which sells homemade bread and French and Norwegian cheese. Stopped at Benetton where Ingrid works on Saturdays, ohed and ahed over a set of babyclothes Ingrid had picked out for her brother Øystein, a friend of him became a first time father a couple of weeks ago, bought a beautiful cardigan for Ingrid (anyway she had to work and couldn't g with us on our mother-daughter day)......and ended our day at Bakklandet Skydsstasjon, under this charming quilt, with hot cocoa and svele.
I am not living on travel dreams only. Of course I am not.
Here and now is too important for that.
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Even right now, too early on a Sunday morning. Wrapped in a woolen blanket. A hug mug of tea. A cold on its way, which is always unconvinient of course.
Feeling pity for myself - for the too early morning and the cold? I could too easily do that, but oh no, not with this comfortable blanket, this nice strawberry tea my girls gave me for Christmas, the pile of book in front of me, a beautiful white landscape outside the window,virginal, quiet after yesterday's snowstorm.....
.....and soon your comments will start to fill my mailbox.
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I am not living on travel dreams only. Of course I am not.
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Not living on travel dreams......only, though I love looking at the photos Fran sent me yesterday of Richard Burton's grave in South London.
So instead of continuing my Donna Leon, I pick up The Collector of Worlds, by Iliya Troyanov, and continue the biography on Burton.
Not on travel dreams.......only.....
