I have seen the plans for the light rail station coming to my bit of the ‘burbs. I know that the footbridge I have crossed to and from work since 1986 will become history and I’ll get a new bridge about 50 meters to the west.
When I see the word “haul” the American in me automatically puts a “U” in front of it. I haul, however, without a truck or trailer. I own no car, so life is about getting stuff home without one. Or getting stuff back out.
Gulls herald spring for me. They head for open sea during winter, and when the snow disappears from the land in April, they come back and start screeching at each other at 4 am in the morning. I’m one of the few people who can sleep through that racket, so I welcome the noise. Continue reading
I just have to leave this somewhere, so here it is: I was dreaming something last night (what, I never remember). The dream/something woke me up. I opened my eyes in the dark and a woman was standing next to my bed, looking at my nightstand. She was 40-ish, slender, had dark hair and brown eyes, and the same sort of face as Melissa Gilbert. I have no idea who she is or why I saw her. What really got me was that my reaction was to say, “Oh, hi!” In Norwegian. And she looked at me, startled, and disappeared. And no, this has never happened to me before and now I’m wondering if somebody was astral projecting and happened to end up in my bedroom.
The thing about growing up with a Norwegian grandfather is that you assume everybody has a cheese slicer and egg cups. Turns out that one of the things American immigrants left behind in Europe were egg cups. Continue reading
12 days’ of my home turned into a construction site, finding bits of concrete in my bed every night, and concrete dust everywhere (I still have to clean all that up). And a bold floor that is not typical for a Norwegian bathroom. But it is done! Tomorrow morning will be the first weekday morning where I will not greet a tradesman, and I have my spare key back.