Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods

After 23 years

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23 years ago our oldest son Torgeir started in primary school here in Trondheim.
Last night Marta got her diploma after 10 years in school.

For me and Terje 23 years with kids in primary school is over.

I have mixed feelings.
Melancoly.
Proudness 

Thankfulness.

Good luck Marta.
New challenges are waiting in the autumn......

......but before that you have a looooong summer.

With three weeks in California as the highlight :-)

.............

Oh my!
I can´t believe that the small boys you started school with 10 years ago
are now grown up men!

 

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From Marta´s facebook profile:

Life isn´t about finding yourself.
Life is about creating yourself! 

 

Top of the World, Middle of the Night

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Midnight, 00.00 sharp.
in a small gondola on my way to "the top of the world"

In search of the midnight sun.

The sun hid behind a thin layer of clouds,
but I met another sun.
A young boy, aged 19,
working as a gondola driver for the summer,
ready for his first steps out in the world.

A gondola ride in an almost empty gondola.
Midnight.
On our way to the top of the world.

A young man on his way into adulthood,
sharing his dreams with a silver haired woman.

Dreamsd about travels,
about exploring a world as far from "the top of the world"
as you can imagine.

A stranger meeting a stranger.

People who know me know that I ALWAYS sleep at midnight.
This night was an exception.
Instead of the comfortable hotel bed, I went out
to reach the top of the world.

There I found dreams, life,
dressed as a charming, open 19 years old boy.

I went outside my comfort sone,
and I was richly blessed.

May God bless you handsome young stranger.
My prayers will follow you. 

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Photos: Tromsø by midnight

Roots

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Being a gardener helps me be aware of my own roots.

Grandpa Johannes was born on a farm at Aure, where we have our cabin. Saturday morning, when I drove to the nursery to buy plants, I could see grandpa's old birthplace over the fjord. When I was a girl I went there once with my parents. We still have some distant relatives living there, at least I believe so. But I have been to the farm once only, and the only thing I remember is that we were served huge shrimp sandwishes.

Looking over at the farm and the fjord, the hills, the meadows and the mountains, I tried to imagine how life was when grandpa lived there.
My father has told us a few tales, others have formed in my imagination.

My family name, which I have got from grandpa Johannes, is Wigum. An uncommon name in Norway. 
I have heard that there might be less then 200 of us in the whole country.

I am out travelling again, back in Tromsø for a couple of days.

We have a system in Trondheim where we can book an airport taxi, you are picked up outside your house, you share the taxi with one or two others, and you drive directly to the airport.
Yesterday morning I shared the taxi with two men. One was my next door neighbour, the other a stranger

 Arriving at the airport I saw the stranger's name on his bag - Wigum. I had to ask him about his name, hadn't I?, and soon we were in deep conversation. There are teo farms where the name Wigum comes from at Aure, my family comes from one, his from the other. Family bonds
Soon, during 45 minutes at the airport, the stranger became a friend.......

Roots.

 

 

Norway is a small country.
When we arrived in Tromsø and was greeted goodby, have a nice day, by captain Høiby, it was light being greeted by a good, old friend.
Captain Høiby is the brother of crown princess Mette Marit,
and we all know her, don't we :-)

Columbines in The Blue Garden

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Some days ago I was out photographing a mini columbine which has grown in my garden for several years. All of a sudden it was like my eyes opened, and I saw the amazing beauty of the blue flowers. 
And while enjoyoing their beauty, I remembered the columbines from grandma Olga's garden, blue, purple, pink, even some red ones. They were old, and as far as I can remember, none of them grew in the beds where they probably once had been planted, but walked around, all on their own whim, growing just where they wanted.....
.......offering beauty and charm.

At Tautra there were columbines growing in the meadows near the old monastery ruins.
I like to think that they have been there for hundreds of years,
brough here by the monks who came wandering up from southern Europe.
The way so many new plants found their way to Norway.

Columbines are regarded as old fashioned these days, at least up here where I live. And you rarely see them in modern gardens.

I have fallen in love with akeleier, with columbines.
I have started a collection
in The Blue Garden,

and I read all I find about these old, shy beauties.

At Victoria&Albert in London a few weeks ago I bought
Flowers of the Renaissance
by celia Fisher,

from amazon I've bought Columbines
by Robert Nold.

 

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Now I am asking you, my readers, for your columbine tales.
Or may be you have a few seeds for me?

Columbines in The Blue Garden 

 

Simply living

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A weekend of simply living.
At the cabin of course,
my fifth season,
the season of time for thoughts.

Terje and Torgeir are here, continuing their wood work, the small extension we are doing. I cook their meals, which is very simple, a bbq on the terracce last night, and today I have promised to take them to lunch at a local restaurant where they have the best pepperstekt sei in the whole wide world ( pepper fried pollock)

I drove to a local nursery and bought plants, for both my garden here and for The Blue Garden.
I sit on the terracce, with my knitting, with my book, with my writing,
with my thoughts.

And all through the day listening to the hammers from the back of the cabin.

Hammers banging.
Or silent thoughts.......what to do next?

To live we have to breath.
In, out, in, out, in, out...............

The breaks in between are essential.

I have just finished a long period of hard breathing.
Now I rest in the breaks.
in the in between.

Cabin life,
the good life.

 

 

A Kitchen with a View, or Friends and Food

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In Trondheimsfjorden there is a small island called Tautra. A monastery island with ruins from a medieval monastery, a running monastery of today, a few farms and a guesthouse called Klostergården.

Klostergården has a charming restaurant with the best salmon in the world, and when we have guests from abroad, we often take them there for a lunch.

For two days I have been at Tautra, stayed on Klostergården. Not with friends fro abroad, but with a group of colleages.

 We came out there with two impofrtant missions; to celebrate a birthday and to work together.

We wanted to have a birthday party on the beach, but as the day came close we understood that the weather gods did not cooperate. I contacted the owner of the guesthouse, asking if it would be possible to find a place where we could prepare our food, and to my delight I got a message back - "the restaurant closes at 6pm, the kitchen is free for you to use "

 
The birthday boy, 65 years old Søren, an artist of life, was in charge of the three course dinner, with paella as hovedretten, the main course.

With Søren as the chef we all took part in the cooking process. An easy task with a kitchen view like the one at Klostergården.

The starter, mango, avocado, shrimps, mussels sprinkled with herbs, balsamico and oil.

The main course, Sørens pealla....

And when it was time for the dessert I was so filled with good food, sweet wine, laughter, singing and walk out to meet the sunset.......

.....I completely forgot I had a camera.

 

Here is a link to Klostergården
Thank you Ståle for your hospitality!

Sunset, and then.......

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Sunset for my self given blogging break.

What comes next must be a sun rise.

Tomorrow morning I hope to be back,
and I hope to see you all here.

 

 

Photos taken at Tautra around 10.30pm last night

Flower Power

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Last night I found a meadow of wildflowers,
walking through the wet grass I picked an armful og buttercups, sorrels, cow parsley, wood cranesbill and a few other.

A colleague will celebrate his 65th birthday today.
We plan to surprise him with some flower power.
I tie a wreath with my flowers,
I write a speach

and I am looking forward to our lunch.

The charming greenhouse at Turvey Abbey

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Afternoons and nights in The Blue Garden, they continue to serve as my sanctuary.
Yesterday weeding was on my list,
my poor old body........yes, I can feel it in my muscles today.
The peonies declared that they love me though :-)

While my own garden keep on growing,
my mind wanders south west to Turvey Abbey 
and the remote corner of the garden with the greenhouse,
the fruit trees and the vegetables and herb.

.

The blue irises were in full bloom during my stay.
So many different flowers are my favorites,
irises are among them.

Sister Esther is the sister in charge of the greenhouse.

 

In my mind I am back at Turvey Abbey,
working together with sister Esther in the green house,
in silence,
in peace.

Flowers,
growth.

To be an apprentice of The Gardener of Life

The novel I dream to write, the novel I have been working on for several years,
the novel which is finished and perfect in my mind....

.......is a lot about growth,
flowers,
gardens.

 

One day I will take you with my into its world.

In the garden

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The Blue Garden is patiently waiting for me.
Every afternoon he is there,
offering me his colours,
his comfort,
his beauty,
his work.

 

Every afternoon (when I am not travelling), I am out there, with my garden gloves, which I soon remove, it is so much easier to work with my bare hands and fingers.

Every afternoon I am out there with Terje.
Weeding.
Planting.
Sharing dreams.

 

And when The House in The Woods is silent (almost)
The Blue Garden is blooming.