@brittarnhild
After last night´s storm we woke up to a new morning.
I love colours, but I also see that grey can be immensely beautiful
I with Thee would begin,
O my Savior so dear,On the way that I still must pursue;
I with Thee would begin
Every day granted here,
As my earnest resolve I renew
To be and remain Thine forever.
The start of a hymn by the Swedish Lina Sandell (1832-1903)
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@brittarnhild
A week at the cabin
Terje and I
Slow Living
My way
Hiking
Knitting
Reading
Cooking
And time to make another episode in Britt Arnhild´s World on YouTube.
This time I sit outside on our terrace, with the camera hold to show you the amazing view we have, me looking directly into the cabin wall :-)
It is a short video.
A slow life video.
I hope you like it.
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@brittarnhild
Terje was out in the garden, in a little red house we have there, a house where we keep things. A shed? I don't know the English word for it, the Norwegian is bod. I was busy weeding when I heard Terje call my name: "Britt-Arnhild, come and have a look!" He was standing with a black bag in his arms, the bag was open and I knew at once what it was - old baby clothes, the special ones which I had missed for years.
My fingers were almost trembling when I started to look through the bag. A few dresses from when I was a baby, more than 60 years ago. Baby clothes from when our kids were babies as well, but they had to wait, I wanted to see, touch, feel the dresses I have been wearing. When I was a baby.
One yellow, two blues. No pink ones, which kind of made me happy, made me smile. The dark salmon red one is a dress I knitted for Ingrid, almost 30 years ago. The yellow and the two blue ones were made for me, two knitted, one crochet, more than 60 years ago.
I still remember knitting the salmon red one. For Ingrid. Summer. We were driving Norway from North Cape to Lindesnes, which is far, very far. We drove all the way with three children. My older brother and his family lived in Hammerfest at that time. The summer was warm and sunny, the kids played out in the vicarage garden and Ingrid wore her salmon red hand knitted dress. I can't understand today how brave and courageous we were, driving thousands and thousands of kilometers with three kids. Marta was not born yet. Ingrid was 2, Øystein 7 and Torgeir 9. The year was 1991.
Isn't it wonderful how a handmade outfit can bring out a storm of memories.
Now I will have to ask my mother what memories she has with my old dresses.
The blue dress in the first picture is my favourite.
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@brittarnhild
Sometimes I wonder if it is possible to appreciate spring the way we do here in my corner of the world of you live somewhere else. If you live a place where the grass is green already in February, a place where you don´t need to worry about snow and night frost all through May.
Since I´ve always lived in Norway, I guess it is impossible for me to answer that question.
What I do know though is that these days I cherish every single minute. I pick them like a bouquet of flowers, let their colours and fragrance fill my heart, my mind, my all.
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@brittarnhild
I had been up early, after a night of little sleep. A taxi took me to the airport, a plane flew me down to Oslo, a train took me into the city, my feet led me to the meetingroom. One minute before the work meeting started I sat down on my chair, poured myself a cup of tea and was ready.
The program was tight, the air in the meeting room limited. Still, this was work, this was important, this was interesting. I tried to hide my yawning. I tried to keep my brain clear and my eyes open. I tried not to think of my headache and my protesting sinuses.
"The air in here is terrible" I heard the leader say, "I think we all need a break and some air. Let´s go two outdoors for 45 minutes and discuss this theme......."
I decided that I + me = two, and walked out to breath.
This girl was waiting for me, eager to share her music.
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@brittarnhild
Do you know Johanna Basford´s Secret Garden Colouring Book? I know I had heard about it some months ago, but completely forgotten, untill I read an article on facebook today about colouringbooks for geownups, a rebellion agains the digital world. Several Norwegian Publishing Houses are now making colouring books, and they som varmt hvetebrød as we say in Norway, like hot wheat bread/buns. A Norwegian trendspotter say that the colouring books are a combination of mindfulness, meditation, creativity and silence
To keep sane during hard, stressful, busy, challenging periods in my life, I always have a sketch book, and a box with rainbow pencils. I am no artist, I can´t draw actually. But sitting down, playing with the colours, drawing lines, colouring, let my hand find her own way......well, it is my favorite part of the day. I have a very special book which I bought in London a few months ago which is my current art journal. And a few weeks ago I even started a very simple art journal at work, using an old notebook and some old crayons I found when tidying the drawers under my desk.
I remember I used to love colouring books as a child.
Now I have ordered Johanna Basford´s Secret Garden.
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The photos shows a drawing I made in my art journal last night.
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Here is a link to the Norwegian article
and here is Johanna Basford´s book:
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@brittarnhild
A completely ordinary day. Woke before the alarm clock as always. Up for a shower, a hair wash. Breakfast. Newspaper. An appointment before work, which gave me the opportunity to stop at Terje´s job to park the car there and we squeezed in a cup of coffee together in his canteen. Work. Bus home. Grocery shopping. Making dinner. Eating with Marta and Terje. Napping. Afternoon news, coffee and some left over Christmas cookies (read krumkake). Some house fun. A couple of bills to pay. A program with a favorite musician of mine on television. Reading. A glass of wine......may be. Going to bed.
A completely ordinary day.
Nothing fancy with it.
Nothing exeptional is happening.
And everything is exeptional.
I am breathing.
I am alive. I can feel my husband´s kiss on my cheek. I can enjoy my daughter´s soft, beautiful hair. I can speak with my kids on the phone. I got a letter in the mail. I have a job I love. I made something good for dinner. The squirrels are busy out in the garden. The dark sky is filled with stars. I am knitting socks for my oldest son. There is peace in my country. I own the words. I am living. Here. Now.
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@brittarnhild
November is here, and with her comes the shorter days. Still the garden can be bathed in light for a few hours every day, but the sun is low, and soon she hides herself behind the hill south of our property.
The garden is very different from the neverending light summer days. The first days of bright autumn are also gone. November is a winter month, and we can already see snow on the distant mountain tops. On my daily garden walks I find tiny little hidden flowers, but when I walked around with my camera today, I was looking for another kind of beauty. A beauty found in a deep, warm colour palette never to be seen the rest of the year.
Most of the leaves from trees and bushes have let go, the most stubborn still have something to show. A beauty which belongs to the last days of autumn only. A beauty we too often miss during this dark period of the year.
Fifty shades of orange. Red, yellow, brown, ocre, terracotta. The names of these late autumn colours are as many as their shades.
My getting ready for the dark winter days-backpack is filling up. The winter companion I can´t live without.
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@brittarnhild
I came to Moi 35 years ago, just turned 21, deeply in love with Terje. Terje was studying in Trondheim at that time and we came down to Moi to spend Easter with his parents. We took the train from Trondheim to Oslo, there we met terje´s borther Arne who had a car, and drove with his the last almost 500 kilometers. During the week we spent here my coming parents in laww took me on a sightseein tour in their car one day. This tour fast became our first shared family tale.....when they were proud and wanted to show the woman who was about to steal their oldest son from them their area, I fel a sleep in the car, Only wome up when my coming mil cried "look at the fox!" There was no fox of course.......
Since then we have taken all our guests on this tour. Up over the hills to move a rocking stone, down to the charming seaside village Sokndalstrand, past the old farm under the mountain, ending up in the nearby town Flekkefjord.
Ingrid´s Marius took this tour with us last year, yesterday it was Marta´s Martin.
The young ones are leaving today. Ingrid to visit a friend in Stavanger, Marta and Martin to fly back home to Trondheim.
How fast time flies! How important it is to live the moments.
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Mindfulness has gained such enormous popularity these days. I am not on that wave, still, when I think about it, I know that blogging is my tool to mindfulness, my tool to live my days over again, to hold up the moments, paint them into my painting of life.
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