Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods

Always searching

Text and photo Britt-Arnhild Wigum Lindland

 
Always searching for the best photo.

Always seraching for the best words.

Always doing my best to please my blog readers.

THANK YOU! - for reading my blog, for leaving your comments.

Ingrid and Marta

Text Britt-Arnhild, images Ingrid and Marta

 
A present from my two girls, dinner for me (+ Terje, Torgeir and Øystein) yesterday. Marta started the preparations already on Saturday, first going grocery shopping with her dad, then top secret work in the kitchen while I was sent up to the "blue room" (which is not blue at all, except from a large, old desk and the door) "Mamma, stay in there till I let you out!"

I had my books and my laptop, so I stayed happily.

 
Yesterday Ingrid came and again I was sent up to the Blue Room on the first floor. A lot of laughter and busy noises from downstairs. A lot of secrets......like when Marta on top of her voice cried out to Ingrid "Ingrid, you can warm up the breads for the hotdogs now"....haha, of course I knew we were not going to have hotdogs :-)

Menu:

wokked vegetables, pork and nuddles

cottage cheese fruit cake for dessert, recipe from the book I have written

 

In between cooking - A LOT OF FUN. Now you can see where Marta get it from :-) Her big sister, yes! (Terje watching sports on the telly)

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Ingrid Elise and Marta Krisgtin - a million thanks for a lovely, delicious meal!

I love you both!

Not on travel dreams only

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.....

Where my dreams take me.....

Text and images Britt-Arnhild Wigum Lindland

 
While I was busy shoting photos of Ravnkloa, the fishmarket, this boat passed me, down the canal. I was taken right back to Venice, Venezia, the stunning fairytale city I have come to love so deeply over the years.

Later I went grocery shopping with Marta, we were buying vegetables for the ratatouille we wanted to make for dinner. Our grocery store has a rack of magazines and books. Usually I never buy anything from there, but while waiting in line, to pay, my eyes fell upon a book by Donna Leon "A Sea of Trouble". One of the very few Donna Leon I haven't read. I had to buy it of course.......and my mind kept on wandering.

 
Venezia. Only a few months now, and I will be back with you.

Back to live on water for a few days.

I spend so much time on the vaporettos that dizziness follows me home as a souvenir.

 
Venezia, where every moment is a piece of art.

 
Do you have a place which holds this very special corner of your heart? I place you go back to again and again. A place you have only read about and hope to visit if not only once before you die, a place where your dreams take you.....

 
I have many such places. Places where my dreams take me. Places I visit again and again. Places I've read of, dreaming to visit.

My dreams enrichens my life.

 
Donna Leon's books are for Venezia........but I couldn't wait starting the one I bought. I still have a lot of books to read and to reread when I go to Venezia in May.

Today is for dreams.

 
.....and as the book tells about the fishing for vongole......well, then you know where my dreams go, don't you?

 
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But before anything else.....I'll go downtown with Marta. There we will visit Ravnkloa to buy their fresh shrimps.

Photo: Trondheim and Venezia. Now and then.

French television coming to "my" fishmarket

Text and images Britt-Arnhild Wigum Lindland

 
Writing a daily blog (for more than 6 years, with almost 2000 posts so far) means that I get a lot of emails. People search on google or other places for the strangest topics, and often they are sent to my blog. I try to write back to most of the people who writes me, though when an American man wrote me to ask where he could buy fishballs I had no idea what to tell him. Nor did I know what to say when a woman wrote to ask me about Norwegian men; "I have heard that Scandinavian men as so stubborn, always getting their own ways. I am married to one and need to know more about why he acts like he does. Are all Scandinavian men like that?" Well, the most important man in my life is loving, caring, charming.....but she only needs to read my blog to find that out. I wrote her no email.

Last week though I got an email which made me comment back right away. It was from Allison, working for French television. She is working for a travel and culture program, had done a search on Norwegian fish markets and found my posts from Ravnkloa. Now she wanted to do a program about this fish market in Trondheim. One of her questions was "does fish monger Ketil still work there?"

 
Fish monger Ketil still does. We grew up in the same neighbourhood so I have known Ketil all my life, and every time I visit Ravnloa, which is quite often, we squeeze in time for a chat. I went there last week after I got Allison's first email (there has been quite a lot more since then), but Ketil had gone home for the day.

Then I went there again a couple of days ago, told Ketil about French television and their plans, asked him to pose for me, and right away he walked over to this huge, ugly fish. Great shot, isn't it?

 

Ravnkloa is an indoor fish market. Outside there are always fishermen selling fresh fish directly from their boats. I love the area. The atmosphere. The small. The colours.

 
Inside Ketil and the other fish mongers, are busy selling fish and fish products. Fresh. Delicate. The smell takes me to fish heaven (which is a wonderful place)

 
I have told Allison that if she comes to Trondheim she is welcome to The House in the Woods for mølje. Unfortunately (for her and for me) she will probably only send a couple of camera men up to Trondheim. I really think she should change her mind. How can she say no to mølje?

 
I love to buy shrimps at Ravnkloa. In the summer tourists love it too, then they can sit outside, along the canal, peeling their shrimps, throwing the shells into the water. Saegulls are there in a blink to catch treats.

  
In the winter it is quiet outside.

 
The view is still great though. You can actually look right over to where the young fisherman from our ongoing tale spent his lonely Christmas.

 
Looking in through the window.

 

Here is a link to Allison's television program:

Echappees Belles

Good luck Allison.

 

Breakfast

Text and images Britt-Arnhild Wigum Lindland

 
It is my day off today. A whole day streched out ahead of me. I do have quite a few plans for the day, I might follow them. I might not.

Just had my breakfast. A very traditional Norwegian breakfast. Like I've had my whole life. Two pieces of dark bread with butter and brown cheese, a cup of tea, a glass of orange juice. The juice used to be milk when I was a girl, and no tea then.

These days, in The House in the Woods, breakfast is served on Finish china, from Pentik, a line called Vanilla. The blue cloth was crocheted by Terje's aunt Elna, my mother in law's older sister. Elna, who died almost 20 years ago, made us 12 of these. Heirloom pieces.

I've made myself an extra cup of tea. Enjoying my extra time. Enjoying time here with you. Tere hommikul Pene (good morning in Estonian), jo reggelt Kristie (good morning in Hungarian) God morgen, or simply "morn" as we say in Norway, to you all. What do you eat for breakfast? What does your day look like today? How do you say Good Morning?

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First photo: my breakfast

Second photo: an old quilt I made back in 1993. It hangs in our stairway.

The Passions We Share

Text and images Britt-Arnhild Wigum

We share a few passions my oldest son and I.

Reading. Travelling. Writing. Coffee shops. Four of the passions we share.

For at least a couple of years we have talked about, dreamed about going to Egypt. To visit the World Library in Alexandria, to walk the streets of old Kairo, to see the Pyramids and the desert, to spend days on a boat along The Nile.

This coming Easter was to be our time for travels.

When we travel we often seek out the same places. The same bookstores. The same narrow streets. The same bars or coffee shops.

We both seek solitude. We can sit, alone, in a coffee shop for hours. With a book, a notebook and a feltpen, the environment, our thoughts, as our only company.

At some point, a few weeks ago, we decided Easter 2011 was not our time to travel to Egypt. We are happy about that now. Egypt is not the place for tourists, not the place for travellers, nor the place for a mother and a son seeking adventure. Not right now.

Only the future will let us know if we ever seek out to travel the world. Just the two of us. Mother and son.

Meanwhile I have two travel books to enjoy (Only two??????? Well, I have a hundreds, at least......) A Thousand Miles up the Nile, A woman's journey among the treasures of Ancient Egypt. By Amelia Edwards. Part I and II

And I have quite a few travels already travelled to write about.

Photos: Dubrovnic the summer of 2010. A city we both love, my son and I.

Time to continue our story

Images by Britt-Arnhild, text by Britt-Arnhild and blogging friends

Have you ever wondered what happened to our young man? The one who found himself alone on a small fishing boat over Christmas?

  

I have wondered, and I know you have as well. Several of you have sent me emails asking about the continuation of the story, and now is time to do something about it.

 I need your help. This is something we do together, you and I.

Along the canal, down near the railway station, has become my favorite place to walk, on Saturday or Sunday mornings. And also a favorite place to take you along with me......before we end up in a charming cafe somewhere.

I am posting a few photos from my Sunday morning walk, to keep us going........many more are ready to come.......or may be our young man left the harbor.......to go........well, where?

Our story so far (thanks to Fran, Ardi and Robin):

Once upon a time there was a young man. He had left his family to seek adventure, but had a hard time finding a path to follow. For a few months now he had been working on a small fishing boat, but when Christmas came, the old fisherman left the boat to go home and celebrate with his wife, his children and his old parents. The young man had nowhere to go, and was very thankful when the old fisherman let him stay in the boat......

The boat was cold and it was not easy to find any signs of Christmas. The young man felt sad and lonely. It was cold and he looked around in search of an extra blanket. In a locker, deep down, under a lot of old blankets and stuff he found a worn cardboard box. Opening it he found an old star. The beginning of a smile found his way to the young man's face. May be there would be some signs of Christmas after all.......

The old boat was a haven for him. The gentle rocking of the boat tied at the dock, the occasional clanking of the lines on the nearby sailboat, the lulling sound of water lapping the hull. He set the fire going in the tiny cookstove, put the kettle on, opened a can of soup and put that beside it. The skies were grey and had been all day and as he stirred the soup, snow began to gently fall upon the harbor. The radio hummed in the background, static sometimes interrupting a tune, but the gentle silence was comforting. The young man got his cup off the hook, set the pan of soup on the table and opened his book........

........when he thought he heard a cry outside - penetrating the stillness of the evening, the gentle sound of the falling snow and whistling wind.... he arose, walked across the floor and looked out through a window. No one was there. But, something made him open the door....and looking down, he was amazed to see a tiny black cat, looking up at him with huge green eyes.......

So, what happens next?