Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods

A Souvenir to Bring Home

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It was the mailbox which caught my attention first. I stopped and in the blink of an eye I could imagine thick envelopes with exotic stamps, friends around the world, sitting down at an old, worn desk writing page after page.

Slowly, after a long while, I lifted my eyes up from the mailbox,

and I was hooked.

The little green house looked at me, smiled, mirrored herself in my wide open blue eyes and whispered: I know I am beautiful, but people today are so busy, they walk by in great haste, looking down on the pavement, speaking into their cell phones, with no time to stop and let my look into their eyes. I love to look into the eyes of people, your blue eyes are a perfect match to my green colour. Thanks for appreciating my beauty.

I could only smile back. I had no words.

In my dreams I moved right in.

A grey haired woman was mowing the grass in the backyard. I know I should have stopped, greeted her, asked about her house, told her how much I loved it.

I didn´t.

I stood outside the little green house for a long time. Hidden by a lush hedge. Now, two days later I am regretting that I didn´t speak to the middle aged lady.

Or may be not.

Now the green house can live in my dreams as a sanctuary. A place where I can come back to again and again. Dreaming. Creating. Charge my batteries. Be silent.

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I have been in Härnösand, on the North Western coast of Sweden for a few days, with my colleagues, visiting the diocese administration there.

On the (railway) road again.....

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I have been away for a few day. Now I am busy sorting my photos, Mac is giving my a helping hand and soon the two of us will be back with a travel basket filled with stories.

Photo, from an early morning walk near Bottenviken in Northern Sweden

Yes, the new MacBook Pro will be a good friend

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MacBook Pro and I, our friendship is developing fast.

I sat here sorting a few photos, making albums when one of Marta´s friends came. She is an avid MacBook Pro user, and I used the chance to ask her a few questions about sorting photos. Then I asked : Do you use iPhoto which is already in the machine, or do you have another program?" "I started with iPhotos" she replied, "but now I use another one. I can show you where to get it, but for now I will recommend you to use the one you have started with, iPhoto"

She is right of course.

One step at a time. No need to hurry.

And at least so far, with still only a few photos saved on the new Mac, I love iPhoto. So easy, with great opportunities.

Yes, the new MacBook Pro will be a good friend.

I am sure about that.

 

All fresh from the garden

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Autumn pleasure:

walk out in the garden to gather colours for a fresh salad

 

When 1cm is 10mm too much

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Marius, Ingrid´s boyfriend, is a ski jumper. Yesterday he was to take part in a competition over at Granåsen, the international ski jump arena close to our house. A competition always holds two jumps for each skier, but yesterday Marius was stopped after the first one - his skis were 1 cm too long.

 

Marius bought his skis last winter from the famous Norwegian ski jumper Anders Jacobsen. Jacobsen is a tiny bit taller than Marius and therefore allowed to have longer skis. The rules are strict.

So yesterday afternoon Marius came home to us with his skis. He needed help to cut them, 5mm in the front, 5mm in the back.

Marta loves challenges and was soon to get her ruler, and her helping hands.

Well, Terje also came, Ingrid was already there, and I ran in to grab my camera. Soon we were all busy.

There will be another competition today, this time with skis with the perfect size.

Good luck Marius!

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I am developing my friendship with my new MacBook Pro, and already know that I am going to love him. Thanks for your cheers and support.

Still some challenges though. Like when I wanted to add a link to Anders Jacobsen´s Wikipedia page....... but I am learning. One step at a time.

Have a nice Sunday.

My new toy, a MacBook Pro

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I have bought myself a new toy, a MacBook Pro. My kids are sure I am to old for this, kind of like you cannot teach an old dog to bark thing.

Marta is sitting here with her head over my shoulder trying to help me with this first post...

......we are doing great, aren´t we?

The Dentist Appointment

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Every August, as sure as my name is Britt-Arnhild, there comes a letter from my dentist. With an appointment. Ever since I was a child I have dreaded it. Sitting, or rather lying, in the dentist chair, with my mouth wide open, answering eheh and ahah to the dentist's attempts to communicate. Well, there are situations I like better......

Yesterday was The Day again. This year I have been too busy to give it any second thoughts, and all of a sudden I found myself in the dreaded chair. With a young girl standing over me. My dentist, which I have "dated" for so many years, all of a sudden (at least that's what it felt) had hired a young girl, a dental hygienist, to do the first check. She was so gentle, so nice, so careful.....I almost fell asleep. And almost too fast she could proclaim: you are lucky, there are no problems with your teeth this year, nothing we need to do

...........and a couple of minutes later I found myself out on the street, with a light heart, a broad smile on my face.....and realized I kind of missed my dentist date :-)

My feet danced happily down to the harbour, I needed to celebrate my good teeth.....

......and then up to my favorite Zizzi store....to treat myself with a new outfit for all the money I had saved.

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I had a lot of troubles with my teeth when I was a girl, and dreaded the dentists above everything. Grandpa Johannes was a headmaster through my childhood, grandma Ragna Josefine worked as a teacher at his school and they both lived in a small wooden house inside the school area. I loved to spend time with them.

One day I had followed grandma Ragna Josefine through her lessons, then after lunch she wanted me to go over to grandpa Johannes. From her classroom she opened a door and showed me the way, down the corridor. I saw grandpa Johannes sitting beside his impressive desk and wanted with all my heart to run down to him, to sit on his lap, to make him draw me a witch, he was a master of drawing witches, all with long, long noses, all with a small tree on top of their nose.......but no force in the world could make me walk down the corridor...........the reason? I knew that behind the closed door I had to pass was the office of the school's dentist.

Do you have a dentist tale to share?

 

First potatoes

I was busy in a meeting when my cell phone started to beep.....photos from Mauro, sun and colourful Italian good. My mouth started to water.
I knew my workday would be long, so I sent a msg to Terje: can you make dinner today?
How wonderful to come home to dinner in the Blue Garden. Salmon, carrots, a cucumber salad and.......the first homegrown potatoes.

Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

The People of Syria

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Last night I took a break from reading about Tibet, walked over to the book cabinet where I have my travel litterature and took out two books about Syria. Before opening the books, starting to read, I opened my computer and looked through my Syria photos.

 
I had spoken to an old friend in the afternoon. Her husband was one of my travel companions during my week in Syria in October, and she told me that she looked at my Syria photos every day. I shared my hundreds of photos with the group, her husband had saved them on his computer and now they were used as screen savers.

 
Her words brought back a flood of memories, and I realised I haven't looked at these photos for months.

 
Syria and its people are on the news daily these days. The people of Syria are fighting a fatal fight for a free, democratic country. What they have to pay is more than I can comprehend. So many deads, so much pains and sufferings.

 
I fell in love with Syria during the week I stayed there. Its colours, fragrances, people, landscape, history......

.....and from books and also experience, its story telling. Its long, rich tradition of oral history and tales.

 
I have my memories, my love, my photos, my books...

...and the strongest force of all, my prayers!

 
My heart is bleeding for the people of Syria.

Send your peace and your love God. Creator of Earth and Firmament.

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If you follow this link you will be taken to all my posts about Syria

Every Day, a Precious Gift. Or Born into Music

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I was born into music. My mother plays piano every day. As a little girl I loved to listen to her playing, as a young woman I did, today I do. I am sure that as an unborn baby I danced to her music.

Every Sunday my father listened to classical music on the radio.

This is part of my growing up.

 
I learned to play the piano as a girl. Unfortunately I forget to practice.

 
We have a huge, beautiful piano in our livingroom. Almost 200 years old.

It should be easy to sit down and play.

My mother plays on our piani every time she visits.

And I ask her to play for me every time I visit her.

The last time I visited my parents my mother came to me with a sheet of paper. Filled with notes. I looked at it and could hear the notes in my head. In my heart.

"Britt Arnhild" she said, "this song is the most beautiful song I know. Every day is a rare gift, a shining possibility. Every day is again and again God's grace, coming down from the heaven. I play it every day. I have copied it for you. You should also play it, sing it, every day. 

The piano is there. The song, the notes are there.

The words and the music follows me though the day.