I belong to the generation that followed the boomers. No, not Generation X. That other generation. The small one that is considered boomer but really isn’t. We’re just the tail at best. We aren’t the ones that rebelled. As my high school history teacher said: We’re the nothing-happened generation.
So, I’m busy downloading old photos from my Flickr account because Flickr is being sold and I’m tired of dealing with various TOS. ‘Sides, I’m paying for Dropbox. And digging through the old stuff, here’s one from 15 years ago: The weekend I was a professional astrologer.
When I read that Bergen was getting ready to celebrate 950 years in 2020, I suddenly felt old. I remember when this plaque was new: Continue reading
I don’t often post about politics. Mainly, it’s because I don’t have the intellectual capacity to understand and engage. I therefore understand those who vote with their gut, because I do, too. But I do get impressions from the world around me and right now, it looks like it is reenacting “Animal Farm”. Continue reading
We’ve had one of the wettest and coolest summers ever in Bergen in Norway this year—rainy enough to have us wondering if we will break a record. Continue reading
On Saturday, I took a tour with the MS Bruvik, the same boat that once ferried me to summer camp when I was about 10 years old. Back then it was just a boat ride. Now it was a historical adventure in several ways.
The fjord ship “MS Bruvik”, photo credit: Wikimedia Commons
Living in Norway means living with all kinds of traditions, some ancient, like bonfires on Midsummer’s Eve, and some much newer, like Valentine’s Day. Here in Bergen, the joke is that if you do something twice, you’ve created a tradition. Continue reading
It’s 10 AM and I’m watching a memorial ceremony on TV from Oslo, reading the names of the 77 who lost their lives 6 years ago in what has been called Norway’s 9/11: The bombing of a government building, and the shooting of young people attending a political camp on the island Utøya on July 22 2011. I’m crying again. Continue reading
Ole Bull, violinist and considered Norway’s first “rock star”, had quite the flare for the dramatic and the mysterious. This last was why he was drawn to the island of Lysøen, where he built his last home.
Ole Bull’s house on Lysøen island
As Eddie and I carefully set our feet down between sheep droppings, we caught a whiff of fresh manure. Instantly, I was transported back to my childhood in Norway, spent in the country with a potato field in front of the house, a couple of steers grazing in a pasture next to the carport, and my uncle’s sheep passing by our house on their way to and from their barn.
View from above Lygra dock