THE SLOW CLIMB

Leaves falling, trees going bare. Nature turning bleak and cold before snow covers the greyness for months. I've been feeling bleak and cold too, wanting the duvet to cover me like a soft cocoon, begging for hibernation so that I can wake up to a new spring where everything will be all right.

I don't think I've ever been this exhausted - and worried - in my whole life, but slowly things are getting back to "normal." I've been pushing aside ordinary everyday duties, just barely managing to do the most necessary stuff, but now it's catching-up time. With friends, with reading, with work, with bills - with generally sorting out my life - the way we all do.

My husband and I go for short walks in the park. He's impatient and wants to recover in a flash, but unfortunately it's not as easy as that. He's in for a long convalescence period, and that means relying on Sophie, Johanne and me for taking him around and driving him places. Tough for a man who's usually less dependent on others than most people!

Last weekend it was time for my annual autumn girls' trip to my friend's beautiful cabin in the mountains - at a ski resort called Beitostølen. It's a fantastic area - but then again there's a mountain practically around every bend in Norway! My daughters sent me off with their blessings, saying it was good for me to get away, so I did - and my three good friends and I enjoyed ourselves with excellent food and wine and conversation for the 26th time. (We meet up regularly the rest of the year, of course, but the September/October trip is a big tradition, never to be skipped). A thin white layer of snow covered the ground on Saturday morning, and it looks hauntingly and deceivingly pretty in the photo, but alas. Within a few hours it started raining and it turned to just the kind of slush that I detest!

No winter yet in Oslo though, in fact it's quite warm. That's fine with me.

On the way home on Sunday I stopped at this inviting little delicatessen by the roadside - called Villfisken (The Wild Fish) - where they sell the most delicious fish! I bought herb-smoked trout, garlic-smoked trout, hot-smoked trout with pine nuts, herring marinated in sherry sauce, crayfish salad, and homemade mustard sauce. When I brought this home to my daughters and granddaughters they almost attacked the carrier bag, knowing already how these goodies taste. Villfisken is renowned for genuine Norwegian produce and has received fantastic reviews in food magazines and TV cookery programmes.

Today I had to throw out some of the flower bouquets that we've received over the last few weeks, but believe it or not - when we arrived home this afternoon there was a new one on the door! From yet another good friend wishing my husband a speedy recovery. It never ceases to amaze me how thoughtful and caring people are. Two visitors came round this morning, one this evening. And this colourful card from a cousin in New Zealand suddenly brought back memories of our visit to Auckland in 2006!

"Auckland" by Eric Heath

Our hosts (the cousin and wife) said to Sophie - then 15 years old - "what would you like to do on your first day in New Zealand?" Having heard of NZ as The Heaven of Adventure Sports, she replied without hesitation: "Bungy jumping!" I felt my heart sink and my pulse started to race. But our hospitable hosts made arrangements, and a few hours later she was jumping off the Sky Tower, 328 metres high, while I was in the bar on the ground floor, throwing back a glass of wine to calm my wrecked nerves. (This is not bungy jumping as such - the jumper is connected to some sort of wires, but it's SCARY ENOUGH)!!!

With things slowly getting back to normal again in our little household, I ventured out today for some lunch, a Latte and a tiny bit of shopping. On offer in our nearby shopping centre was this "Statement" necklace, which is the hugest fashion hype these days. Of course I needed one! (Hmmm... looks more expensive than it is - metal and material interwoven).

So yes. Climbing slowly back to normality. Though not quite, as the whole family's going to a long meeting on Friday at the hospital regarding treatments to come. Information is important for all of us, not least to learn about what side effects to expect.

Normality - or maybe not. Our lives are forever changed. This is something we'll be learning to deal with too.

WALKING THE RIDGE

It's hard to believe that only three weeks ago I was on half-term holiday in the mountains of Telemark with my daughter and granddaughters. We were happy, we were carefree, we had fun. Or did we? We had left behind a husband/Dad/Granddad who did not want to come with us because he was not feeling well, but in fact getting increasingly out of form, with his left side not functioning properly. So we were on the phone with him constantly, but knew that Sophie was holding the fort. She phoned while we were on our way down on the Sunday, saying "I think I need to take him to the doctor this afternoon."

Three more days fighting incompetent doctors (Me:"It might be a stroke".... Doctor: "Oh, yes, no doubt"!), and then suddenly - thanks to our persistence - he was in hospital, not out again until twelve days later. I laughed out loud and a bit hysterically yesterday when he received the appointment letter (in the snail mail) for a head scan on December 2nd! This would have been the plan then, unless we hadn't protested.

We had tickets for Fleetwood Mac on October 20th - the best. The best band - perfect seats. He wanted to go, but the doctor advised against it. So incredibly symbolic of his will and intentions, but of course NO! No way. Steep steps, throngs of people, loud music, crazy lights. But his age, all of 'em - I'll grant him that! Mick Fleetwood, John McVie, Lindsey Buckingham (what a name), Stevie Nicks... Such legends! One of my best friends got his ticket. I think she enjoyed the concert.

Someone told me this summer that I look a bit like Stevie Nicks - I can easily live with that - though she's 7 years older than me and 7 centimetres shorter than me - so my name from now on is the über-cool Stevie! Gonna grow my hair long! (Extensions it is).

My family - walking the mountain ridge

Yes, we walk that ridge. Yes, we balance. This is what we do, as human beings. We wouldn't be human beings if we didn't. Fall off this side, or the other. Or just roll down a little. Climb up again.

This is what it's all about, I think.

Italy 1991

Black & white cat (Beyonce), black & white shirt, black & white life. That's it.

HEAVY CLOUDS

Heavy grey clouds have hung over Oslo for a week, the sky almost touching the yellow and red treetops and camouflaging the hills around my city.

My life has been heavily clouded too, and in one week I feel I've aged several years. Wednesday eight days ago my husband was diagnosed with a brain tumour, the following Friday he had surgery - and the days after have been one long string of hospital visits to sit by my husband's bedside, in between talks with doctors and nurses, trying to absorb as much information as possible into our already exhausted minds.

At the moment things look promising because he has done so well after the operation. Up walking from time to time, but very tired and worried, because there are still tests, scans and ultrasound to be done - all to make sure that there are no other horrible surprises lurking in his body. Then waiting for the test result of the tumour, so that proper treatment can be started.

After the operation at the hospital with the best neurosurgeons in Norway he stayed in a room that faced an adjacent brick wall. All the time we heard and saw the ambulance helicopter flying over with patients from all over southern Norway. Yesterday he was moved to another hospital, much more modern and a short drive from where we live. From his bed by the window he can see - at a distance - the white church where we were married thirty years ago, where we christened our three daughters as babies and where they all had their confirmation ceremonies as young teenagers. If you look closely you can spot it - on a hill on the left side in the photo taken from his hospital room this afternoon.

I'm not a church goer - far from it - but today this old church became a symbol of my hope and optimism.

I have been overwhelmed and deeply touched this last week by the human network around us. Family, friends from near and far, even not so close friends and acquaintances - they've all shown their deep care. They've offered to help in any practical way - shopping, walks and talks. Phone calls - even long distance ones - text messages, emails, visits, flowers. Concern and compassion. Tears and laughter.

Our three daughters have been their Dad's and my best support. I don't know what I would have done without them. They are not only a SYMBOL of our hope and optimism. They ARE hope and optimism.

And love.

NEW TERRITORY

Sometimes life catapults you right into unknown territory that you never imagined you'd discover.

Sometimes life is a roller coaster (I hate roller coasters) that tries to sling you out of your seat.

Sometimes life is a clothes dryer that wrings out all your fibres.

Sometimes life's a bitch really.

All these have happened now.

My husband was diagnosed with a brain tumour on Wednesday. It was removed on Friday. So far everything looks good.

I'm a relieved and exhausted optimist.

COLOUR MY CITY WITH CULTURE

Colourful entrance outside Oslo's National Museum

This afternoon I finally got around to visiting the huge Edvard Munch anniversary exhibition in my own city - Munch 150. This comprehensive retrospective exhibition (in two Oslo museums, and with simultaneous events around the country) marks that it's 150 years since this world famous painter was born. I had time today to reflect on how popular he is and how modern his art still seems.

I've had the kind of day I simply love - the kind of day that lifts me up and inspires me and stays with me for a long time. It's simply because I've had a "cultural fix" which satisfies my addiction to all forms of art. I drove my car into the city (bad girl! - You should go on public transport! Yes, I know, and it's cheaper too. The toll and the parking are enough to ruin you). The beautiful weather is stretching into October - I'm enjoying it enormously, knowing that it won't last.

Going to typical tourist places in your own country or city is always interesting because you're surrounded by foreigners. All around me at the museum I heard Japanese, Chinese, English, French, Spanish, Italian. And Norwegian of course, different dialects. Everyone seemed to be in awe of everything, but the biggest crowd gathered in front of the above painting - "The Scream" - no surprise there really. The photo on the left shows the version on show in the National Gallery, the one on the right is in the Munch Museum, where the other part of the Munch 150-exhibition is. I bought a pass for both of them, so I'll be seeing the other one next week.

The first picture above is the postcard, the second one is a photo I took (strictly forbidden) last year at the Munch Museum of "Two Girls With Blue Aprons." I brought my granddaughters to the Museum and told them this was a painting of them. Or maybe of Edvard Munch's granddaughters. They were delighted!

Again two versions - "The Girls On the Bridge" 

"Apple Tree in the Garden" from the property Ekely, less than five minutes' walk from my childhood home in Oslo. Unfortunately they tore Munch's house down in 1960, but his studio is still intact. 

For me one of the best things about Munch's work is that many of the motives are from Oslo, or from the Oslo Fjord, or even from the coastal town of Kragerø, where we have our family summer house. It makes me feel very close to it all. Munch lived in Kragerø from 1909 to 1915. The tourist organisations in Kragerø use Munch's descriptions of their town for what they're worth, and one of them has become their PR-slogan: "Kragerø - the Pearl of the Coast." Munch said that living in Kragerø did him well, and he painted "The Sun" and "History" while there. They are part of the decorations in Oslo University's Ceremonial Hall.

"The Dance of Life"- the moonlight on the Oslo Fjord at Åsgårdstrand appears like this in many of the motives from this town

Moonlight on the Oslo Fjord - photo by me at midsummer

"Madonna"

"The Day After"

I can identify with both of the above pictures - hmmm.... Somehow I feel Munch speaks directly to me here. 

Going into the city today, seeing the Munch Exhibition Part One and having lunch and freshly brewed Assam tea in the National Museum's French Salon called for a proper dress code - or at least this was my thought. City Slick - yes! That's what I felt like looking today. Not often I get the chance, to be honest. 

Clearing out closets may lead to the best rediscoveries - this suede waistcoat suddenly jumped out at me the other day. It must be twenty years old. More rural than urban? Okay then - "cowgirl city slick."

But I'll save this umbrella for a rainy day! 

And perhaps let out a scream - just a small one - underneath it...