The history behind a Christmas card

‘Julekveldsvisa’ The carol of Christmas Eve’ has followed many of us since we were children. During my first years as a watercolour painter my motives were for a period special, old houses. From wanderings in the ‘old houses’ street ‘Øyragata’ in Lærdal, my heart felt for one particular house. It stood out as the poet Alf Prøysen’s house in his home village in Ringsaker in east Norway. A small, redpainted house with friendly windows. This house in my mind ‘became’ the house where ‘Matja the midwife’ lives. The Star shone on the roof of her house. The neighbour’s house were included, like a side scene. The house is white with innumerable small windows. Oda and Bjørg Ellinor, two of my grandchildren, are singing as they are walking with christmas presents to the child.  The title of the painting has always been ‘The Midwife Lane’. This was one of my earliest Christmas cards.
Some time later I got to know that in the white house actually the midwife of Lærdal and in the little red house lived the child minder of the Lindstrøm family (the hotel owner nearby)….. 
Yes, that was the first time the Christmas star shone,
and later it has been shining in all the countries of the world,
and whatever happens the star is as great as ever
– you’ll see her over the roof where Matja Midwife lives.

Christmas caroling at the home of the elderly

The village choir – this year like last year – ‘is singing Christmas carols for the old folks.

The village choir – this year like every year – is singing Christmas carols for the old folks. As we stood there singing ‘Oh come, let us follow the star up high’, I was pondering over who ‘the old folks’ are…. I counted eleven old choir singers. Not too long ago they stood beside me in the choir…beautiful voices and their song came from their hearts,  out of joy of singing.  Here they sang together with us and they were still singing from their heart, and they still are young… even a little childlike.. Not too long ago they stood beside me in the choir…beautiful voices and their song came from their hearts, from the joy of singing. Not too long ago they stood beside me in the choir…beautiful voices and their song came from their hearts, from the joy of singing. As Elizabeth so dignified and standing tall put it: ‘It is so good to see that the elderly are with, it is so much more solemn then, and right’….

We are together
on the wandering
in a ‘never-ending row of pilgrims»
and we rejoice in ‘…..the darkness fly
for the light that is amongst us…..’
that sneak onto us…
in the middle of all the misery
sneaking up on us
Old or young ones
does it really matter ….

The Day is turning into night
light after light is being switched off
soon it is going to sleep
– the village
But … look …  every house has got a shining star
over the roof
just like in the carol 
….a good night they need
after all their work in the day
and before important work tomorrow
some titanic work 
like building a tower to heaven
and some
quite down to earth…

All important in the big picture

December the first….

From when I was a little child I had a special feeling for ‘December the first’ , it was the Christmas month!
Here today it is not much that reminds of the December with the ingredients from childhood winter:
White angles, frozen river and snow clad evergreen forests.
A dense fog is heavily hanging on the mountain sides,
sleet showers and some wet snowflakes in-between…
until it gathers in heavy drops of water  
Lovely!
You can see so far when it is foggy.
The mountains do not block the view
we are able to look ahead all that is heavy for our mind
and everything that gives us joy

The sun’s warm beams
from last summer fall onto our face
with their cleansing miracle
Oh you wide world
how beautiful the fog is

The twilight hour

After Mandela’s death a whole world have written and talked and given memory speeches  about what a big man he was. Mandela is now sitting together with the other angels… looking upon their children… wondering… what now…. They will be singing in rejoice if they see more than words………… What is our talent….. something was said about digging it down in the soil…….

Long evenings
When the evenings are long
and dark
the time has come
for a good tidying up
in our mind
Find out about
our true feelings
And find out
what to do
with that
……
PS
I don’t think Madiba is sitting; I can imagine him singing and running around…..after so many years with illness….

 Well begun…. half done and a bit more…  …

I so dearly want  the flowers to climb in the mountain rock like they really did! A foxglove grew out from a crack in the gneiss.The bird’s foot trefoil crept over the ditch of the roadside underneath the steep mountain wall….The butterflies landed on the delicate stems of the harebells where she climbed everywhere …. fearless of the chasm…. The mountain cranberries grew from poor soil on the edge of the ‘cliff’…..and the hip roses behaved like royalty and owners of the whole rock! ……
The celebrity amongst the flowers was the wild orchid who sent out its exotic fragrance towards the evening; The night violet, herself! The more common ones, the dailyday’s toilers, who gave us rejoice all days throughout the summer: The bright yellow buttercups and the violet stork’s beak’s. Two opposite poles in colour range, but in peaceful union and collaboration with Lady’s Mantle.
What a team spirit and knowhow can make them succeed in covering the rock wall like on a flower field!
We have got much to learn from these mountain climbers……

Happiness
is when the roadsides
come meeting with you
and the Buttecups contributes
with thousands of flower smiles
in the Mid Summer’s Day
… when the harebell
give us a lesson
in climbing art and courage
Happiness is
when the butterflies
flap in the meek wind
Good luck!

Summer rain
is
the best
I know about
…
next to
sunshine
::::

Can’t help being joyful…

Today is an unusual day…so far. Secon day of the second month; outside on the doostep I felt it: something met with me; a light drizzle in mild air breathed my chin … distinctive fragrance fill my lungs. Down at the Ese strands… the majestetic mountain Vindreken is hidden in fog, but Ramnaberget stands clearly forth with its shiny slopes… the fjord is calm… small raindrops are playing tag with rings in the water … the sun is actually not visible at all, it only feels like. On the way home the sun breaks through like a star in the grey … ‘Only the rainbow is missing on a perfect day…. Just as the thought came … I turn… and there the coloured bow appears over Tjuatoten……

 Oh, what a day I’ve got!
Now I really want
to start my work!
And look,
the sun shines like gold –
and joy is overtaking!
For I am happy, just happy,
Everything shines in the sun.
Look, butterflies dive
into dewy leaves
in slivery and sliky clothing.. 
Can happiness be described
in any better way?

[box style=»rounded» border=»full»]February is the secon and shortest month of the year. February means cleansing, and in this time of the year the romans had their cleansing feast. In the early roman calendar March was the first and February the last month og the year. In Norway during the nordic time February was named  Gjø month after the goddess Gjø (‘soft and fertile) Later on, in fact all the way till 1827 it was written  Friendly month in the almanac. The friendly name to the month because the days became noticable longer – See more at: http://www.aktivioslo.no/guide/aret-rundt/februar/#sthash.DYAGe2ly.dpuf[/box]