Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods

The cathedral gets a new organ

@brittarnhild

My camera got busy this morning when I passed the cathedral front on my way from my office in the house just north of the cathedral to our main offices in the Archbishop´s Palace.

The main organ in the cathedral is under renovation.
A process which will take months and months, and which for the moment means truckload after truckload coming up from Switzerland with organ parts.

  

I almost missed my meeting. This is too much fun to watch.

 

No need to worry though.......

..when I came back four and a half hours later,
the workmen were still busy.

  

  

Never a boring day in my life!

Here is a link to more information about the Steinmeyer organ project. In Norwegian only, but I am sure Mr. Google will help you translate it if you ask him.

 

 

Bymarka and St.Olavsspranget

@brittarnhild

Sunny autumn days with time for hiking are my favorites. And especially the days when I/we hike in Bymarka, the area with mountains, lakes, marshes, hills and forests just outside Trondheim. Øystein, our son#2 loves Bymarka just as much as I do, again and again he texts me, letting me know about new gems he has explored. A couple of weeks ago the text was about St.Olavsspranget, The St. Olav´s Leap. I heard about this place a few years ago and have wanted to search it out since then, and today was the time, finally.

We knew there would be a lot of people out today, enjoying the lovely autumn weather and the bright colours. So we were early and had the countryside all to ourselves......almost.

 

As we walked I let my mind wander. The name, St. Olav´s Leap, there must be a legend behind. I have tried to search for it, but have found no explanation other than what the name itself says, Kong Olav must have jumped there somehow.

Terje had to turn before we came to the goal, to go home and drive Marta to her cheerleading practice. So I continued alone, and Terje would pick me up later.

I planned to have my coffee and a couple of pastries out at The Leap. When I came an old couple with their daughter and granddaughter were there already. I walked out towards the cliff with my camera and the elderly man started to talk.

"Do you know the story of this place?" he asked.
"No, I don´t,  but I have been walking wondering about St.Olav and the fabulous jump he must have done"
"Oh, that old legend. I was not thinking about that!" The man smiled while the group invited me to sit down together with them with my coffee. "It must have been a hundred years ago, or probably more" the man continued. "A lumberjack was on his way from the timber forest with his horse and a sledge filled with timber. The days are short here in winter you know, and darkness came too fast for the young farmer. He mistook the way and both he and his horse fell down the cliffs"

Beauty holds a fatal tale.

The man continued to talk about old Johan who used to live on a small farm up near St.Olavsspranget, at Holstvollen. On my way back to meet Terje I took a detour and passed Holstvollen, now almost falling down, hidden behind a fast growing forest.

 

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Yesterday I got another text from Øystein:
"Found another gem in Bymarka today, Schölberghytta" with a photo attached.
Now I know what to search for next!

 

An autumn tradition

@brittarnhild

Every year, when autumn arrives, my mother phones: "Autumn is here, it is time to eat lamb. Welcome to dinner"

Every year a feast. The table. The food. The smell in the house. The life long love between my parents.

Lammefrikasse, lambs stew, is my mother´s specialty.

The meat so tender it melts on your tongue.

Lingonberry marmelade makes the meal sing.
Aged 83 and 80 my parents still hike to woods picking their own tyttebær

 

The meal was a feast, the night was a feast.
Except for one thing. We were all so busy eating and talking, we completely forgot to ask my mother for piano music for dessert.

 

 

How your memory can change a tale

@brittarnhild

Anne found my London tale, the one I was searching for yesterday.
Isn´t it strange how time can change your memory :-)

Read this version and see for yourself. It is the same tale, though at the same time another story.

Thank you Anne.

 

 
I was on my way to meet Terje, Ingrid and Marta and enjoyed a late lunch in a small, charming Italian restaurant near Royal Geographical Society. The meeting with Dervla Murphy was still what filled my mind.

The door to the restaurant opened and in walked two elderly ladies. Both with walking sticks, the first one came in and headed for a corner table close to mine. The other bent almost double, could hardly walk. From the door there was a tiny little step up to the main floor, and the lady was unable to climb it. Trying a couple of times without luck, she looked up at me with a smile, blinking her left eye as she reached out the hand without the stick, calling for the young Italian waiter. He came running, helped her and led her over to the table where her friend already sat studying the menu.

I had finished my lunch, Terje and the girls were waiting, but I still sat for a few moments, reluctant to leave the two old ladies, listening to their conversation with the waiter about what to order from the menu.........we come right from church, we need a real meal, no plain bread but alot of garlic please, and pasta with alot of chilli.........yes please, two big glasses of wine........

 
"Certain interludes seem quite separate from the rest of one's life. They have the simple perfection of a Tang lyric, a Chopin étude, an Inuit carving. And they do not drift away, becoming blurred by time; mysteriously they continue to give sustenance. For me that first day of our trek was one such interlude. I experienced pure happiness - something quite different from the everyday underlying contentment which is my fortunate lot"

The first lines of chapter 3 in Dervla Murphy's Cameroon with Egbert.

 
The morning with Dervla Murphy was a highlight, a dream coming true, something I never will forget. The few minutes with the two elderly ladies was an interlude, the simple perfection of a Chopin étude, something which will not drift away but giving colour to every corner of my heart, telling me not to fear. When I turn 100 I want to be like them, still globetrotting the world - east of the sun, west of the moon, or from an armchair or a bed in some home for elderly people.

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• thank you Dervla for your words which follow me every day, one of your books is always on my bedstand or on my studio desk
• thank you dear, old ladies of South Kensington
• thank you Kelly for the comment you left at Greetings from London yesterday. I can't tell how much I am looking forward to hear about your ferry ride and about Anderson Island.

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Photos from Portobello Market. The same musician as I met last year was still there when I came there with Terje and the girls.

The lady who climbed Mount Everest in a London restaurant.

@brittarnhild

Dinner is over, nap is done and so are the dishes,I´ve started a washing machine and it is time to sit down with a book or five-time. My favorite time. I am reading sucking a few candies from Contact! by Jan Morris, and while I read about glimpses from her meetings with people around the world, I remember a few of mine.

"Oh, sure it will be a perfect repost" I tell myself, remembering a Sunday lunch in London a few years ago. I had been to The Royal Geographic Sosiety, listening to Derva Murphey and was on my way to meet Terje and the girls coming from London Eye.

On my way I stopped to have lunch in a small Italian restaurant and it was when I sat there, waiting for my bill that two old ladies came in. Old, bent and hardly able to walk. Coming in from the street they had to climb a few stairs to get a table, and especially one of the ladies was so bent down, she almost crawled up the stairs. It took her ages, but it was evident that she did not want any help. This lady was used to managing on her own.

Her friend already sat at their table, flipping throuh the menu when "my" lady finally had climbed her Mount Everest. Slowly she straightened her back and as she did she looked right into my face. Her eyes flashed, she blinked to me and like a queen she walked over to her table.

 

My heart skipped several beats and beamed.
Sure, a lady after my heart. Traveling the world, climbing her mount everests far into the age of 100! 

 

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I was so sure I already blogged about this mount everest lady, back when it happened. But now I can´t find it anywhere! Ok, may be I just wrote about it in my travel journal then? No, it is not there either. Diary then? No!

 

Well, no matter if I have told the tale before or not!
Here is is. For me to enjoy. For you to enjoy.

 

Books and travels

@brittarnhild

It was a book which inspired me to start my newest blog, Books on the Menu. And books are inspiring me to continue to write book on the menu posts. Not every day, but a lot more frequent than I had planned to when I started the blog.

 

I am planning to write about, if not all, at least different kind of books. But so far the travel literature is dominating. Not surprisingly though, most of the books I read have some kind of connection to travel.

Welcome over to Books on the Menu.
I would love to hear what you tking of the newest member of my blog family.

 

Pinching my arm

@brittarnhild

Some days  I have to pinch my arms. This life of mine, is it real, or is it a dream?
I wake up every morning, looking forward to a new day. I go to bed every night, with a heart full of thanks for the day  just finished.

Today I will go to bed with Lera Auerbach´s music in my head. She is the festival artist of Trondheim Chamber Music Festival, and during the opening concert tonight, which was held in the Nidaros cathedral, one of her compositions was played on the cathedral´s church bells , while we stood outside in the dark autumn night, listening.

A sacred moment.
A blåklokke  moment.

 

I want rings of gold

@brittarnhild

A fish is jumping, catching a fly. Rings are spreading in the water.

A silver haired woman is out hiking, enjoying the lovely autumn day. A fish jumping catches her attention.

Her camera gets busy and rings are spreading in the silver haired woman´s mind.

A smile shared makes rings of affection.
Meeting the eyes of a dear friend.
A word of love.

Indifference. Anger. Hurting words. Unseeing eyes, a closed heart.
Too easily the dark spread as well. 

 

 

I don´t want the surface of my water to be smooth. 
I want rings which makes a positive difference..

Rings of gold.

 

Dreaming. Missing. Venezia

@brittarnhild

It is more than two years since I last visited Venezia. And I am missing the place deeply. La Serenissima. And its people.

 

I miss the smell. The colours. The walks. The getting lost. The cappuccinos and the proseccos. The spaghetti vongole and the pizzas.

  

   

And I miss my secret walks with Mauro.

 

It is raining in Trondheim today, and I plan to spend the day armchairtravelling to Venice. 
My armchairtravelticket consists of books and a television program.

 

Yesterday I got an email from Mauro:

.......today If you are able to receive the Italian national channels on RAI 1  at 14.30 
you can see me at work on the transmission LineaBlu.........

I was unable to find the channal on our televison, but this morning Mauro posted a link on facebook, so now we can all see it:

 

 

And not only Mauro doing his fabulous glass art.
Here is also a ride up the Brenta river which I did with Antonella some time ago,
here is vongole catching.

HERE IS VENICE!

(go to around minute 35 to find Mauro in his glass art workshop)

 

 

 Oh, it brings back so many sweet memories.

And who knows, later today there might be more about Venice books over in Books on the Menu. 

 

 

One daughter, two daughters

@brittarnhild

When you are a mother of a 17 year old, it is a joy to be asked: "Mamma, I need some new clothes, can we go downtown for some shopping?"

It is always busy in the city on Saturdays, so I wanted us to be out early. Marta loves to sleep in on weekends, like every 17 year old, but a shopping trip with mamma´s visa card is a good enough reason not to sleep long :-)

We did our shopping, or rather Marta´s shopping without much delay, and then went over to Fairytale Cupcakes for coffee, smoorthie and.......yes, two cupcakes.

I have followed Fairytale Cupcakes for several years, from when the pure, young couple started in a tiny little place. Now they have moved to a much bigger place, they have a lot of employees and the place is always busy. Marta and I were lucky and got the last table.

 

One daughter, two daughters....... while we had our cupcakes Ingrid and Marius came, and now we have made plans for tonight. Ingrid and Marius will come over, I will make pizzas, and we will watch a movie on our brand new, huge, television.

 

 

An extraordinary, quite ordinary Saturday in my extraordinary, ordinary life.