08 Thursday Aug 2013
I’ve heard some call it lotion for the soul. It is soothing. It is refreshing. So I can see why.
Today my lotion was scented with the smell of sun-heated fields and a breeze surfing through huge, ancient oak trees. It also contained corn and potato fields, summer flowers and an eight-month-old littlegirl with a smile that put the sun to shame.
All if this is just off my doorstep these days. What is the best lotion for your soul?
10 Tuesday Apr 2012
The last few weeks it seems like the entire country has been bathed in sunshine. Spring is here and the temperature is slowly rising. Some days, however, the sun comes as a surprise on the landscape that has for so long been lingering in the cold, and as protection the sea rolls in with a heavy veil of fog. The fog covers the long fjords and rises up around the cold water, creating an air of mystery and tranquility. 
I took these photos on my way to visit my parents. The ferry across the fjord was the perfect time to get out of the car and capture the white surroundings.
01 Sunday Apr 2012
Posted in Good Life
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April - one photo a day, Family, Flower, Nature, out walking, Son, spring
“I picked this flower for you, mommy”, my son said and lifted up his wee hand holding a single white flower. The first flower of the year. Spring is here now and in a couple of weeks my wee boy is a year older. Life is good and every day is a new adventure.
I have accepted a ‘one photo a day’-challenge for April. Today the task was to photograph my reflection. Mission accomplished after a few hours outside geocaching with my in-laws. The flower is the one given to me by my little prince.
08 Wednesday Feb 2012
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Geocaching, which I talked about here, gave me a good excuse to discover new and exciting places last time we visited my in-laws. But it became a lot more fun as soon as I had convinced them all that this was a fun hobby. One of days we took out, there were six of us: Husband, Son, Uncle T3 (there are three uncle Ts, this is the youngest), Granny, Grandpa and me. And Rambo the dog (a small papillon who lives up to his name only when encountering small birds).
We had two posts we wanted to find. We drove for a few minuted and then found a small, gravel road to take us up into the forrest. The first post was found quickly, we practically ran up. The road led us to its vicinity, and the post was located only a few metres off the road. The second however, was not connected to any of the paths we could find. It was getting cold, we had two arguing about which way to go (arguing for exact opposite directions). We knew in which direction the post was, but we were faced with two paths, non going in the direction of the post.
So we stopped. Made a fire. And watched the sun set in-between the trees. And if we hadn’t already reached perfection: we now have to set out for the second post some other time, which means another splendid day out in the wild.
07 Tuesday Feb 2012
Posted in Good Life
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Art, Cold, Nature, Rose paint, Winter
We awoke to a cold, clear, and sunny morning. I moved at a slow pace, not fully awake, but with a wee child running beside me who obviously does mornings better than I do. The cat wanted some space and nagged me to follow her to the door. I shuffled over the kitchen floor towards the door. Opened the door, child still in tow, entered the small hallway, unlocked the door and opened it for the cat. Skeptical as she is I had to wait a wee while before she ventured outside. And as I stood there, my eyes almost shut, the sun reflected off something on the floorboards in front of me.
Magical fairies had rose painted them during the night…
I ran to get the camera and told Son that breakfast would have to wait a few minutes.
18 Wednesday Jan 2012
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At one time I found myself walking arm in arm with my mother in law, both giggling, with Husband walking in front of us swearing and mumbling. Apparently we perceived the situation a little differently as we walked through a small forest in complete darkness, following a small arrow and a blinking dot on my iPhone…
Another time, this time out at dusk, we parked the car in the outskirts of a forest, walked a few hundred metres and found ourselves at the edge of a small stone circle (think stonehenge en miniature)…
I giggled as I climbed a set of stairs leading up to a church and the connected graveyard. Husband and my youngest brother-in-law accompanied me on our quest to find a memorial bust containing some inscribed dates which would give us a hint about where to go next…
A treasure hunt by the sea coincides with a beautiful sunset
As if I don’t have enough thoughts spinning in that poor little head of mine, I have also taken on a new hobby. Actually, it’s not ‘my’ hobby, I’ve forced it upon both Husband and Son too (and my in-laws and soon my parents, but that’s a different story). Son knows it simply as treasure hunting. Husband has dug out the competitor in him and is hooked. And I love every aspect of it. This activity gets us out of the house more, shows us new places, often amazing places, and every now and again it requires a wee bit of brainwork. You’ve probably heard of it already, it’s called geocaching.
Anyhow, I’ll try to explain it simply: there’s an online community of cachers (who refer to non-cachers as muggles). Cachers hunt caches and place caches. A cache is a small container varying in size from a little less than a sugar cube, to a small bath-tup, but are mostly the size of a smallish lunch-box. A cache is hidden somewhere, often in a location of some importance to the cacher who hid it, and made available for other cachers to find. The location of the cache is given as gps coordinates so the cache can be found by using a gps (or a phone with gps). All caches contain a log book which is signed by finders. After finding a cache you also log your visit online. The website then keeps track of all the caches you’ve found.
A rather compelling cache hid well from the passing muggles
We found our first caches in the neighbourhood. A wee stroll after picking up Son from kindergarten, a few minutes of searching under bushes and in the cracks of the mountain resulted in a few smilies (found caches are registered as smiling faces on a map). Son is ecstatic when he finds a treasure (a pirate scimitar is now an obligatory item for all treasure hunts) and often there are small items to trade with so he gets to bring home a prize. Boy do I have a lot of places to show you! More to come 🙂
20 Sunday Nov 2011
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In not many of the world’s countries can you find yourself on a coastal road boasting splendid views around every corner, only to find the cherry on top, a freakin’ castle stuck on a small islet a stone-toss from the shore. I did not see it coming and immediately became a significant hazard to others driving the same stretch of road at that time. I can’t remember the two lovelies in the car with me saying anything from me spotting the castle, to making an abrupt turn out onto a muddy side road which seemed to lead nowhere except closer to the sea.
We parked the car near a wee house (we were good at finding those that day). The house seemed almost deserted and I simply had to get closer the castle asap. I crossed my fingers and hoped nobody would mind our mischievous parking, but I wasn’t even out the door before the door of the house opened. A man appeared and I expected to be chased from the property with a stick. I was getting my my heavy Norwegian accent ready as well as the innocent and naive, hopeless-tourist look. But, apparently, a group of thee young women seems to have a good effect on polite Scots. He smiled at us, explained that he was expecting a lorry and gave us instructions for how to get closer to the castle as well as where to find a shortcut that would take us back on the main road afterwards. I love Scotland!
A bit of jumping over small brooks and joking in and around a kissing-gate took us down to the beach where the view silenced the three of us. Or silenced us the best you can silence a group of three, who, combined, have been through a few too many literature courses.
(and yes, the castle is the one from the Monty Python films)
14 Monday Nov 2011
The surface of the ocean resembled that of a mirror: reflecting, still, cold, and clear. I could only see a few metres out as a thick, white, veil appeared to have engulfed the entire world. Driving to work happened inside a small bubble that allowed life, vision, and colour. The bubble was only a few metres and diameter with restrained by deep, white walls. Occasionally grey, ghostlike figures drifted in and out of nothingness, giving all signs of life a spectral touch.
I climbed up the hill toward work. The beautiful view that awaits me every morning was gone. To ease my disappointment the sun rose as I reached the top. A gleaming white disk hung in the sky behind a tall tower. The disk seemed to embed none of the characteristics or qualities of the sun, but created a stunning image on the blank canvas in front of me.
The fog stayed for two days, left on the third day only to allow my husband to return home from work before it came back later that day and stayed for another day.
13 Sunday Nov 2011
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I’m road tripping with the best of the best in the best place imaginable. We drive across a bridge and the most interesting conversation takes place. We have just seen something stunning, we have to stop. The decision is made using three-word sentences in a dialogue where every speaker gets her turn. Why we didn’t have 24hours running cameras on us for the duration of the trip is something the world will always regret. Luckily for me, I was there and can thus relive the moment, over and over.
We’re driving on a single lane road, doing about 60 (we’re still on the British Isle here so we’re talking miles). I try to keep my eyes on the road while turning to see if I can still see what I saw when crossing the bridge, and at the same time find somewhere I can turn the car around. A muddy road made do. Luckily there were few cars on the road at the moment, which resulted in me going in the reverse back onto the 60-zone, which, as well as having cars come around corners quite quickly, could also boast of having low visibility and great surprises lurking about. No one were harmed in the making of these memories.
We went back to the bridge and located another small muddy road. The road lead to a wee house with a man outside partly underneath his car who was probably pondering where he would find a new set of breaks out here in the middle of nowhere. We put on our brightest and widest smiles and asked him kindly if we could park our car there while running out to shoot the bridge. The man didn’t look unhappy to see us and gladly offered us place to park.
The view from the bridge was as stunning as it had seemed from the glimpse we got crossing the bridge. And! turning around was another bridge, being in itself equally pleasing on the eyes.
It drizzled a bit and I regretted not having paid enough attention to David’s advice on what equipment might come in handy when photographing outside. So, I apologise for the rain drops that have created a few smudges on the shots.
We ran about like kids for a while before we returned to the car. The Scottish gentleman looked happy as he waved and smiled at us from his kitchen window. We smiled back to thank him for the hospitality he had shown our car. 
08 Tuesday Nov 2011
We had to get near Loch Ness. We couldn’t have been that close and yet never near it. We found a lay-by where we stopped. Something that looked like a path was visible in-between the trees. We tip-toed, slipped and slid down towards the lake. Luckily I’ve walked in similar terrain before and have developed a feeling for what can easily be stepped on and what should be avoided. I thus made it to the bottom with my jeans the same colour as they were when I left the car.
We laughed and talked on our way down, all finding our solution to the challenge of seeing Loch Ness up close quite amusing. While driving along the shore we had done our best at spotting Nessie, and although we did not see Nessie herself, many signs of life were found, although few that could ever have been taken seriously by others than ourselves.
But then, we reached the shore and tranquility set in. The water was completely still. Low clouds revealed only a stripe of land across the lake. Trees hung over and reflected in the water. The setting silenced the three of us. Tranquility ruled.
But not for long. Serenity was killed by talking, laughter, and joy. Not a loss that will be long mourned.
Loch Ness is, obviously, a freshwater lake. It’s big, deep, and Nessie probably functions as a water filter. The water thus had to be tasted. You’re very welcome, now you don’t have to, we’ve done it for you! Compared to the mountain streams in Norway, the tap water in Drumnadrochit (which was good!), and previous encounters with drinking water, set this water as drinkable. Though with a slightly muddy taste – which is probably only due to a different mixture of minerals than what we are used to back home 😉
Anne blabbers 