BLUE

A wonderful winterly weekend with long traditions has just come to an end. A weekend in the mountains of Valdres, at the ski resort of Beitostølen - with good friends that go way back - Christmas food, long conversations, walking and talking, fun and laughter. Except this year I was there alone, without my husband, for the first time. He is now midway through his treatments - three weeks into radiotherapy and chemo - before he gets his four-week break on December 20. Though he really wanted to go on our mountain trip, he felt too weak and exhausted to be able to enjoy it. I am so incredibly grateful that I have my fantastic daughters, who send me off with their blessings and assurances that everything will be taken care of. And sure enough - this evening I came back to homemade pizza (delicious), yesterday they'd fried a steak and lots of veg and salad for him, and on Friday they'd prepared Mexican food! I love my girls endlessly!

I brought home cheese from the local Dairy - and I think this is becoming quite a success. A peek into the storage rooms showed plump round cheeses being washed and turned - something they have to do a couple of times a week. I bought one piece of cheese with caraway seed, one with nettle and the last one contained - hmmm.... fenugreek. One of the oldest known medicinal herbs apparently.

I do love this - local businesses starting up and selling local produce - may it last!

Jingle bells! Sleigh rides through town

I've said it before and I'll say it again - this November has been amazing, beautiful, spectacular! The evening skies have appeared like nothing I can ever remember seeing before. People tell me that the sunrises are the same (I wouldn't know...) I'm no weather expert, but I think it must be a combination of glorious, clear, sunny days and a chilly morning and evening air. On Saturday afternoon we were suddenly overwhelmed by sky colours that were completely new to me - all shades of blue imaginable. In Norwegian this is known as the "blue hour" - well, dusk in fact. It was so beautiful it almost brought tears to my eyes.

I talked with my sister this evening and tried to explain to her that this gorgeous November weather has actually helped me through days that would otherwise have been hopelessly grey and bleak. She immediately understood what I meant. She also understood something that was more difficult for me to explain: Though I'm happy to sometimes escape from this utter sadness that I'm experiencing at the moment, at the same time all I really want to do is to talk about my husband. I discovered this weekend of socialising that as long as I got a chance to talk about him and our situation - if only just a little bit - I was happy to concentrate on other subjects afterwards. I think it's a way of carrying him and his predicament with me - and never denying our present harsh reality.

We lit a first candle for Advent this evening. All was quiet and cosy, and the house smelt invitingly of good cooking when I came home. My daughters busy in the kitchen, my granddaughters playing, my husband dozing on the couch with one eye on the TV screen. They sent me upstairs to unpack - "Here's a glass of wine for you, have a hot bath before dinner." It struck me: We must cherish these moments. They are more valuable than ever. 

Then again - they were always valuable - only I didn't see it so clearly. I thought we had all the time in the world.