Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods

Kew on a Plate

@brittarnhild

When I visited Kew Gardens outside London in September 2014, I came to a part of the garden closed for public. A sign proclaimed:
Apologies for our appearence: You´ve just stumbled upon a film set. We are currently shooting a BBC2 documentary here called "Kew on a Plate", with Raymond Blanc and Kate Humble, which will air in 2015.

In between all the  flowers I found this so exciting, I had to take a couple of photos.......

.......and then I forgot all about it.

A year later I was back in Kew Gardens. Then I remembered that I, the previous year, had seen a new fruit- and vegetable garden. I went over there; Kew on a Plate - hm, wasn´t that the name of the filming.......

I wandered around, fascinated.

Charmed and inspired.

So when I discovered they had a book with the same name in the shop near the entrance, I bought it.

I flipped through it when I came home, but somehow I didn´t find it very interesting, and gave it some space in the bookshelves.

There it has been standing safe until now. Now it is on mt desk, I read from it, I look at pictures, I dream of food I am going to make, I go out in the garden to look at the beetroots, the gooseberries, the apples, the potatoes........and can´t understand why I didn´t discover this gem of a book earlier.

You see, now I have wanted the Norwegian broadcasting two Tuesdays in a row. I have watched Kew on a Plate, with Raymond Blanc and Kate Humble :-)

And my mouth is wantering.

In the Orchard, with Virginia Woolf

@brittarnhild

"There will be a reading in the orchard at 4 pm. I hope to see you there!" The man, his whole body a sparkling smile, walked around, talking with everybody he met. Fran smiled back, "Yes, we will be there, we won´t miss it for the world."

Fran and I were spending the afternoon in Monk´s House and Garden, the weekend home of Virginia and Leonard Woolf down in East Sussex, not far from Lewes. We had been inside the house, talking about how Leonard loved to listen to classical music on his wireless, how Virginia, though no church goer herself, loved the view from her bedroom window directly out to the old church. And we had walked around the garden. The places so much loved by both Leonard and Virginia. On the train from Victoria Station down to Sussex I had been reading bits and pieces from Virginia´s A Writer´s Diary, and underlined
As for the beauty, as always I say when I walk the terrace after breakfast, too much for one pair of eyes. Enough to float a whole population in happiness, if only they would look. Curiously a combination, this garden, with the church, and the cross of the churchblack against Asheham Hill. That is all the elements of the English brought together, accidentaly.

 The clock approached four though, so we walked over to teh orchard. And there the actor read just that, In The Orchard.

There we were, in the middle of Virginia´s created world, in the middle of her universe.

I had read In The Orchard before. After I came home I have read it again. Many times. It is a story difficult to get into. What is the meaning? Why doesn she writes it three times, three different ways. Why this abrubt awakening "Oh, I shall ne late for tea?"

 

Standing there, listeing to the story read, watching the apple tree and the young woman who volunteered to play with the actor.....it all made sense.

Virginia and Leonard´s Monk House

@brittarnhild

Virginia and Leonard. It feels so natural to call them by their first names. I have read Viginia´s books for years and years, I have had Virginia´s diary, published by Leonard after her deat on my night stand for months and on our coffee table we have the garden book, the story of the garden at Monk´s House. It had been kind of real to me for years, though when I finally came to Monk´s House a couple of weeks ago, it was all completely different.

Virginia Woolf and her husband Leonard found Monk House in 1919. Siyuated in a tiny little Village, Rodmell, not far from Lewes in East Sussex, it was the perfect weekend home for them.  "That will be our address for  ever and ever" Virginia wrote after they aquired the house at an auction.

Virginia Woolf´s books have followed me almost all my reading life. I have struggled with her books and struggle often leads to love. I have known a little about Virginia´s life, like the fact that she commited suicide by drowing, but for years I did not know much more than than. Then, some years ago I started to read about her more seriously and last year I was lucky to visit an excition about her life at The National Gallery in London. Since then I have dreamed abour visiting Monk´s House.

 

Two weeks ago my dream came true. After having tea with Deborah in her garden and studio, Fran and I drove over to Rodmell. Had lunch in the village pub, and then headed down to Monk´s House, today a National Trust site.

Walking through the house was quite emotional. Here is where Virginia and Leonard spent so much of their lives. Where they entertained, where Leonard listened to classical music on the Wireless, where Virginia wrote her letters, and her books.

Where Virginia had her bedroom with the beautiful view out to the garden, and the little village church. Thoufg they were no church goers, they loved the church.

 I had brought Virginia´s diary with me, and on the train from Victoria down to Lewes I read:
Saturday March 27th 1937........As for the beauty, as I always say when I walk the terrace after breakfast, too much for one pair of eyes. Enough to float a whole population in happiness, if only they would look.Curiously a combination, this garden, with the church, and the cross of the church black against Asheham Hill. That is all the elements of the English brought together accidentally.

Being in all this beauty, after reading so much about it, after reading Virginia´s books for such a long time, felt almost unreal. Hard to take in.

It was real though, and in between flowers, roses, shrubs, trees, I could still meet Virginia. And Leonard, from the years he lived on after Virginia´s death.

 

Autumn had come to the garden when we were there. Just like autumn and a too early winter came to Virginia´s life.

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Last year Fran and I visited Charleston, where Virginia´s sister Vanessa lived.
Next time we hope to walk the Downs between Charleston and Monk House.

Oh, I love dreams.

 

 

How life give you the most wonderful gifts sometimes

@brittarnhild

Back in April my husband and I were in London for a few days. During our time here we took the train down to Chichester in Sussex for an overnight stay and for a meet up with my very dear friend (and blog reader) Fran and her husband Steve. While we were there vi payed a visit to Chichester cathedral, and there we came over a very interesting installation with 1000 tear bottles. I blogged about it, you can read the blog here. Some time after we came home, the artist of the bottles, Deborah Tompsett, found my blog and contacted me, and since then we have sent a few emails back and forth between us.

When Deborah learned that I was coming back to London again, and even south to Sussex to visit Fran, she invited both of us to come to her garden, and her studio.

And today was the day we entered a tiny little paradice garden and workshop south in England. We had planned to stay for a short while, we ended up being there for hours. We had so much to talk about, so much to share, and in the middle of all three of us chatting along, Fran and Deborah suddenly dircovered they had been in school together, same year, though not same classes.

Deborah is a very talented artist, and has some very exciting projects coming up. I am sure I will be able to tell you more about them later.......

 

.....for the moment I want you to cross your fingers that I manage to help Deborah to get her artwork to be displayed in Norway, somehow!

You find Deborah´s webpage here.

 

 

The oldest botanical garden in London

@brittarnhild

1673, that´s a long time ago, a very long time, isn´t it. 1673, the year the apothecaries in London started a garden to grow their medicine plants. The garden got the name Chelsea Physic Garden. I don´t remember when I first heard of this garden, but when I did I knew it was a place I wanted to visit. And yesterday that happened.

Over the centuries the garden has had its ups and downs, but today it is a walled oasis in the middle of London, where gardeners, teachers, guides, collectors and researchers are busy taking care of the plants. Taking care of life.

I have bought a book about the garden and look forward to learn more, and also to came back for other visits, may be at other times of the year.

I can imagine frost in the leaves in winter, may be a little snow. I can imagine the first spring flowers, and the full summer with its wide range of colours.

But more than that I imagine living in the garden. Walking. Painting. Drawing. Writing. Gardening. Dreaming.

Living the changes.

With a goal to show beauty.

By the way, the clematis shown in the picture below is called Traveler´s Joy. Isn´t that a most wonderful name :-)

Here is a link to the garden´s website.

 

Along the river Thames

@brittarnhild

Rivers fascinates me. I am staying close to Thames these days, she must be the queen of rivers. At least the queen of rivers running through main cities......though I guess most rivers do, as building a city on a riverside was the wisest thing to do.

 

Yesterday, as the sun set, I walked along the Thames in Richmond. I have wanted to visit this village of London for many years, and now was the time. Out of the busy summer season it was so peaceful. Hard to believe that London is just a stone´s throw away.

Weeping willows, they must be among my favorite trees.

 

Today my walk along the Thames continued. I started the morning with a v isit to The Garden Museum, on the other side of the river from Westminster. Chelsea Physic Garden was next on my list, and I decided to walk up there, along the bank.

 What I did not calculate was that after walking for may be 45 minutes, the pathway along the river was closed, due to building constriction. It gave me a 40 minutes detour, so when I finally reached the garden, my feet were quite sore.

Walking along Thames is never boring though.
Here I pass the remians of an underwater exhibition from last month. Workers were removing it while I watched.

These sculpures are made by Jason Decayres Taylor (according to what I read along the shore)

 

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Thanks for your comment on my travel blogging. The internet connection in my hotel room is terrible slow, so blogging take ages!

 

A Thousand Tear Bottles

@brittarnhild

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not a mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief and of unspeakable love (Washington Irving)

One of the things I love about British cathedrals, is their openness for change, for art, for the way they are used. Some years ago I visited Durham cathedral several years in a row (during my Lindisfarne period), and I was amazed of how they used the old and the new art in the cathedral to communicate. In many ways we tend to look at Nidaros cathedral too much as a museum. New music is okay, dance is okay, but when, a few years ago, the cathedral had an art exhibition with paintings by Håkon Gullvåg, the discussions were quite busy.

How wonderful then to walk into Chichester cathedral, the cathedral which looks so much alike Nidaris cathedral when we see the outside of it, but which turned out to be quite different inside, to meet an exhibition by the artist and ceramicist Deborah Tompsett - A Thousand Tear Bottles.

 

Literally you can find a thousand bottles in the cathedral, 100 by the famous Chichetser Relief dating from the 12th century, 300 in the chapel of Saint Mary Magdalene, and some 600 by the Cahedral´s Shrine. All these places you could find sheets of paper with information about the bottles and reference to tears in the Bible.

 

I took one of the sheets of paper with me home:

Tears can be a gift, therefore, a sign of healing and resurrection - where even at our most forlorn the flow the tears can bring a changing tide of strength and newness. Weeping is after all the opposite of indifference; it is a sign of compassion, of deep connectedness to others, a sign of love. This love is what makes our tears an expression of our deepest sorrows - and also the means by which we might heal from them: Psalm 126.1 "May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy."

 

You can read more about the tear bottles here.

 

The Cathedral and the St. Olave Church in Chichester

@brittarnhild

"Britt-Arnhild, one day you must come to Chichester. The cathedral here is lovely and from what I can see from your pictures of the Nidaros cathedral, the two churches must look very much alike."

My friend Fran in Sussex has talked several times over the years about the likness of the two cathedrals. And she has sent me photos and postcards.

Finally it was time to travel to Chichester, a small town, or city actually, since it has a cathedral, down near the British Channel.

Seeing the cathedral made my heart sing with joy. It felt like family. It felt like coming home.

 

The two cathedrals are built in the same period, which is not difficult to say even though I am no historian, as the building of Nidaros cathedral has gone on for a thousand years. In medieval times cathedral builders travelled all over Europe to work on different sites, and I am absolutely sure that stone masons from Chichester have been in Trondheim and vice versa.

The inside of Chichester cathedral was not at all like Nidaros though. I have a tale from the inside for another day, another blog post. Now I want to tell you about an almost 1000 year old church which we found on the main street in Chichester.

The Church of St. Olave.

Here is what the sign outside the church says:

This Saxon church the oldest
building in Chichester was
built around 1050. It contains
evidence of late 11th century
work & was partly rebuilt
in the late 13th & early 14th
century. Being further
restored in the 19th century.
It is one of several churches
dedicated to St. Olave or Olaf.
King Olaf Haraldson.
Patron saint of Norway.
Lived from 995 - 1030 & was
canonised in 1164.

It did not only feel like coming home.
I was at home!

Home with my dear St. Olav, patron saint not only of Norway, but on Nidaros cathedral. The cathedral built on his grave.
St. Olav must have visited Chichester on one of his many travels.

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Here is a link to St. Olave church

And a link to Chichester cathedral

 

And here you find my blog about Nidaros cathedral.

 

By the way, have you read Ken Follett´s Pillars of the Earth?
No????? Then you really have something to look forward to :-)

 

Inspiration from a book about pioneer gardeners, Woburn Abbey Gardens

@brittarnhild

This winter & spring I have been reading a book about pioneer British gardeners, The Brother Gardeners by Andrea Wulf. Actually it is a little strange that I started this book in the first place, as it is female gardeners who are my passion, but somehow I came over it, it looked interesting, and there I was.......hooked.

I read book with a pen or a pencil in my right hand, and on page 100 in The Brother Gardenes it came handy..........since Philip Miller acted as consultant to the Duke of Bedford about his estate at Woburn in Bedfordshire..........hi, Bedford and Bedfordshire, that´s where "my" abbey is, isn´t it? I checked google maps on my ipad, and right, quite close to Turvey it was.

I have a blog reader (and a fellow blogger) who lives close to Turvey, and now I sent her a message; Lindsay, are you in for a garden visit?

Lindsay was in, and on Saturday, on my last day at Turvey Abbey, just after breakfast, she picked me up with her Peugeot and her GPS. Woburn Abbey and Gardens our destination.

Before reaching the gardens we had to drive though a deer park, and we were lucky, a huge hoard of the deers was out. And we were lucky once more, as we arrived in the garden just before the tourist buses started to come.

Which meant that for a long time we had the gardens almost all alone.

Woburn Abbey is huge, and so are the garden. And very well maintained. As we are in the middle of April it is still spring. I guess the gardens will be marvellous in a month or two. But even now I loved them!

Unfortunately the maze was closed,

so we had to enjoy it from outside the fence only.

But there were enough other things to see and enjoy.

The Camelia House, which I posted about the other day, the peek highlight :-)

When people ask me why I love England and Great Britain so much, I know exactly what to answer:

I love its gardend and its gardeners.

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Woburn Abbey and Gardens

 

My friend Lindsay´s blog

 

 

 

Sharing a fish meal

@brittarnhild

Back home again. Left London after breakfast and a short walk in Kensington Gardens. Heathrow Express. Flight from London to Stavanger. Another flight from Stavanger, via Bergen to Trondheim. Bus from the airport into town. Met by Marta. Home to a late dinner, Terje´s spacial fried salmon!

How good it was to be together again, the three of us, sharing a meal, sharing time. Marta is travelling to Riga in Latvia tomorrow, with a class from school, and will be away all week. But tonight we were together.

I have had many single meals this week. In the monastery I ate alone most of the time, lovely food prepared in the abbey kitchen, in London I had solo meals after Terje left.

I don´t mind eating alone. In fact I quite like it. Probably because I do it so seldom, it kind of feals like a treat.

Like it or not. I am happy to be home again. And I am deeply thankful for my family and our shared meals.

 

Photos: I took the photos in Kensington Garden this morning. Two ducks busy sharing a dead fish.