Blogging friends, please meet my reason for moving to Colorado:
Elena Sharon arrived on Thursday, April 14th.
Her proud Mom and Dad are over the moon
in love with their new daughter.
And for me? Let Grandma-spoiling begin.
Hello blogosphere!
It’s been a busy month since I’ve last connected with you, with work and then travel to the middle of the U.S. to visit family.
Yes, I’m back in Ottumwa. I’ve enjoyed time with family (especially celebrating my Dad’s 85th!), seeing a few sights (including a musical in Des Moines and a day trip to Boone, Iowa to ride an historic train), a trip to Illinois to visit my younger brother and his family (Aunt Cindi was tired playing with her young nieces and nephew!), a stop at a wonderful restaurant on the trip back to Iowa that honors the American farmer (The Machine Shed), and time spent enjoying my brother and sister-in-law’s hospitality here in Iowa (including a gorgeous and intense double rainbow).
And in a few days I’ll be traveling via Amtrak to a new part of the world for me — Colorado Springs to see my daughters!
Fun, fun, fun!! Here’s a few photos of my time so far. I’m sure more images will find their way to this little part of the blogosphere eventually … until then, I hope your part of the world is peaceful and full of contentment!
May 14, 2015 – Goodbye Bergen; it was a glorious day to take off and fly over you!
May 16, 2015 – The Lion King on stage in Des Moines. Fantastic!
May 20, 2015 – Lunch aboard The Scenic Line in Boone, Iowa. History and great views!
May 20, 2015 – Lunch aboard The Scenic Line in Boone, Iowa. History and great views!
May 20, 2015 – Lunch aboard The Scenic Line in Boone, Iowa. History and great views!
May 20, 2015 – Lunch aboard The Scenic Line in Boone, Iowa. History and great views!
May 21, 2015 – Not a bad place to enjoy my morning coffee before beginning the work day. (There are a lot of advantages to working from home — no matter where you call home!)
May 23, 2015 – Looking back after crossing the Mississippi River from Iowa into Illinois.
May 23, 2015 – Happy Birthday, Dad! Several days of celebration, this one in Illinois courtesy of my sister-in-law.
May 24, 2015 – Dinner out with the family, accompanied by giggles and a 4-year-old niece’s artwork.
May 25, 2015 – Gorgeous weather, flowers, and a delightful niece.
May 26, 2015 – Lunch at The Machine Shed on the way back to Ottumwa.
May 26, 2015 – This photo doesn’t do the double rainbow justice. I’ve never seen such intense color!
June 2015 – My upcoming Amtrak route to Colorado and my daughters!
nature in black and white
Almost a week ago my blogging friend Nancy from Two Trails One Road challenged me to the 5 Day B&W Challenge. I’m late to the party, and I’m breaking the rules. I should post five photos for five consecutive days — but you’re going to get them all today. And I’m supposed to tag five others to take part in the challenge — but those I would tag have already posted theirs. (That’s what I get for being late!)
I love photography, and enjoy using Inkscape to manipulate images into a vector format. But although I use GIMP (the open source equivalent of Photoshop), I’ve not explored photographic enhancement too deeply, and wasn’t quite sure how black and white images would turn out.
Since most of my “enhancement” is by Mother Nature, I decided to take a few of her shots and convert them to black and white. It was fun picking out four of my favorite nature photos to see what they’d look like with the color striped away, making the lines and texture front and center.
I also have a “true” black and white image, one with bare December winter trees and snow covered landscape, taken with my old film camera (and real black and white film) while visiting family in upstate New York in 2002. I don’t have the original any longer to scan at a higher resolution, but the snow, tree, footprints, house, and snow fence (to stop the white stuff from drifting across the road after its journey over the unbroken farmland) are a powerful combination for me when mixed with the emotions and memories of many visits. I’m glad it’s found a place on my blog!
Thank you, Nancy, for inviting me to join you in your black and white images fun. Head over to her blog to take a look at what she’s posted!
a little about Osterøy
I’ve written about Osterøy several times, especially since our last visit in April. Aside from being a unique part of this area, it’s the home of Jan’s sister and her family. I always feel warmly welcomed.
I’ve been looking over my Osterøy posts and realized that, although I’ve shared specific visits, areas, and emotions, I haven’t written much about the overall island. So I thought I’d dive into a little more “information” depth about this area of this beautiful country.
I found this interesting; from Wikipedia: The Old Norse form of the name was ‘Óstr’. The last element ‘øy’ which means ‘island’ was added later. The meaning of the name is unknown. It is possible that it comes from the word ‘óstr’ which means ‘the arch of the neck’ — words for parts of the body are common in Norwegian place names.
A few facts about Osterøy:
– Population: about 7,500 people.
– Size: at 328 km2/127 square miles, it’s Northern Europe’s largest island; from Osterøy’s official webpage: “[it’s] surrounded by the mainland on all sides and [has] only one narrow outlet … where the Sørfjord and the Osterfjord meet.”
– Surrounded by fjords: the Osterfjorden-Romarheimsfjorden on the northern side, the Sørfjorden on the southern and western sides, and the Veafjorden on the eastern side.
– Mountainous: a dozen mountains, with Høgafjellet the highest at 868-meters/2,848 feet; Brøknipa (also known as Bruviknipa) is the next highest and has its steep face towards Sørfjorden.
The northernmost part of Osterøy has only one road and isn’t connected to the other areas of the island. If residents in the northern part need to travel to the kommune’s administrative center of Lonevåg, they have to drive across the Kallestadsundet Bridge to Vaksdal. This bridge opened in 1985 and crosses the Veafjorden. Residents then continue for quite a way (about an hour) on E16 along the Sørfjorden to reach the other bridge … and then, once back on Osterøy, it’s still another 20 minutes to Lonevåg.
Yes, Osterøy is that big and has that much remote area!
Although we passed it several times during our travels to and from Modalen, I don’t have a photo of the Kallestadsundet Bridge — but I found this interesting photo on Wikipedia:
(Here is where the Kallestadsundet Bridge is located on the map.)
The “other bridge” is the Osterøy Bridge. It opened in 1997, and connects Osterøy to E16 closer to Bergen. The third largest suspension bridge in Norway, it is 1,065 meters/3,494 feet long.
April 14, 2014 – on Osterøy, looking at the bridge over Sørfjord
(Here is where the Osterøy Bridge is located on the map.)
In addition to the two bridges, the Breistein–Valestrandsfossen car ferry offers a third way to reach Osterøy. It began in 1932 and has operated continuously since then.
Is it any surprise that the ferry is named Ole Bull? 🙂
(Here is where the Breistein–Valestrandsfossen car ferry is located on the map.)
We’ve driven around Osterøy often, especially my first visit in 2006, but many of my photos are of family and too personal to share here. I especially wish I had taken more of the 1860′s-home-overlooking-one-of-the fjords restoration that one of Jan’s nephews was undertaking then (but hope to get there soon now that they are finished).
I’ve shared other Osterøy photo “themes” in my past posts, so I’ll end this with a collection of some of my favorites from our first visit that give you a glimpse of a small part of this intriguing island — they were my introduction to the way the clouds, sun, and mountains affected the light and reflections of the Norwegian west coast, and utterly captivated me. I stood and looked at these same views during our recent visit, and even with the expansive “over the southern end of the Bergen valley” and “over the fjord” views I’ve enjoyed from my own apartments’ windows — the views seen here still captivated me!
(I’m not able to ski, or go on strenuous hikes, but a blogger I follow has many beautiful photos of his skiing and exploring in the Bergen area. His Osterøy mountain photos are breathtaking, and show a side of this island that I can’t access. You’ll be amazed!)
deep thoughts on a short Norwegian hike
We’ve lived in Lysekloster for almost exactly a year. A couple of weeks ago I finally took a walk up the mountain behind us.
Well, calling it a “mountain” is stretching it — where I walked to is probably only about 50 to 100 meters higher than where we live now. But I had to walk part way down our section of this landscape 100 meters above the fjord, along the main road, and then start the journey up. Mobility issues make it a little more of an effort to go, but also so much more appreciated when I’m out there!
Peaceful and quiet, no other hikers on the trail, with glimpses of spring around me, it was also a journey into my thoughts. I went alone — MacKenzie’s mournful labrador face watching me put on my shoes and hiking pants and jacket, but not give her the signal that she was going to join me, caused me just a *little* bit of guilt. Out alone, I was able to focus on the bird sounds, trees, rocks, tiny streams snaking through those rocks, solidness of the mountain path, and glimpses of the fjord as that path angled and meandered.
At one point I realized I was level with our house, and through a break in the trees I could see into my office window. I called Jan to have him come out so I could wave at him.
Through photos, come and join me on my walk!
A small sliver of sunshine gives promise for the long summer days to come.
A selfie?! Wait a minute; I don’t usually do selfies!!
The sunlight on these bare winter branches promises new growth soon — while the tree trunk itself is growing out of old moss-covered rock.
A glimpse of the house, with our apartment door barely visible, across the valley …
… zooming in to see Jan, standing on the edge of the steep drop-off behind our door, talking to me on the phone. “Hello!!! I’m over here!!” (I think MacKenzie was still pouting inside.)
Blue sky! Haven’t seen too much of that this winter!
I walked far enough to catch a glimpse of Ole Bull’s villa from further to the left, compared to the view from our apartment.
Old moss-covered branches, with a glimpse of the fjord leading out towards Sotra and then on to the North Sea through the trees.
I found the old rock, leaves, branches, and new growth from the wet ground a colorful contrast to the winter-bare branches.
Lichen and moss growing on the side of the mountain.
Almost to the bottom of a side trail, taking me back to the road. The sun was beginning to set and I was intrigued by the way the branches picked up the light …
… more light-on-bare-branches intrigue …
… and still more light-on-bare-branches intrigue.
Looking up towards our house, across the narrow valley road. (And yes, even more light-on-bare-branches intrigue.)
Across the road, looking back at the beginnings of the the main path up the mountain.
Unlike my unexpected discoveries walk a few days earlier, you can see that this one wasn’t overwhelmingly visually beautiful. But that’s ok; the promise of spring in the air, the freshness of the pine trees and streams, and even the muddy ground near that “perspectives” greenery (that got my socks wet and almost stole my shoes!) combined with my thoughts and emotions made it a delightful few hours.
How about you? When do you find yourself most at home with your own thoughts?
(Here is where this part of the world is located on the map.)
disjointed thoughts about tragedies
Yesterday a tragedy happened in the area of the States that I consider my U.S. home: a shooting at the Columbia Mall in Maryland.
My heart stopped when the report came in over NRK TV. “Maryland? The Columbia Mall?! That’s MY Mall.”
My thoughts raced backwards through time, touching on different emotional moments that happened there: I was sitting in the food court the morning my parents were scheduled to fly in for Jan’s and my wedding; my cell phone rang, and it was my Mom, tearfully saying that she was dreadfully ill and couldn’t get on the plane (which, seeing my Dad walking out of the plane alone a few hours later, was the intense foreshadow of losing my Mom two years later) … My husband and I bought our wedding rings at a jewelry store there … I had my cherished “generations of love” ring made at that same jewelry store … I spent many hours picking out the perfect gift for a loved one at that Mall … My girls and I were there together frequently, shopping and then sitting together at the food court for a break and conversation … The Columbia Mall is at the center of the sprawling Columbia community, and as such represents an outside-of-the-home emotional center for my family as David and I raised our girls.
But those are memories. When I first heard the news yesterday, the most piercing-to-my-heart moment was the reality that my youngest daughter, Amy, often goes to the Columbia Mall *now* as it’s close to her workplace.
I was relieved to get a message from her, responding to my worried text to her. And as I checked the news over the coming hours after the initial reports, it seemed the shooter wasn’t still at large. My heart hurts for the families of those affected … but it could have been so much worse.
That tragedy brings up another one that happened earlier this week, this one here in my adopted country. It was of a different nature – Lærdal had a disastrous fire. I’ve visited there twice – the first time was during my first visit to Norway in 2006, the second was in 2009 during Abby’s first visit here. I’m still feeling a little lonely after the end of her two week visit, and so the emotions of travel with her and a devastating fire in one of the places we visited together really hit me.
But more than my reaction to this, it’s difficult to express to those who don’t live in this country of only five million people (or understand the background and spirit of the smaller communities that are isolated by the mountainous geography) just how devastating this fire was.
As this page from Visit Norway says,
Late in the evening of 18 January 2014, a fire was reported to have started in a house in Kyrkjegata in the center of Lærdal. Due to strong winds the fire spread quickly, and five hours later 35 houses were burned to the ground, six or seven of them of historical value. One of these were Synneva Eris’ House, a protected building from 1840. Another protected building, the old school house, was also destroyed in the fire. There were no loss of life, although more than 400 people were brought to hospital for examination and approximately 100 people wre treated for various degrees of smoke inhalation.
In the United States, a country of almost 314 million people (the Baltimore-Washington area itself – where the Columbia Mall is located – has about 15 million people), a fire such as this would make the news and there would be an outpouring of help and concern. But I think it’s impossible for the average person in a country with that large of a population to feel the same as the five million Norwegians do about this fire and its aftermath. Although I wanted to write about it earlier this week after it happened, I didn’t think I had the words to express the emotions.
I still don’t. But my reaction to yesterday’s shooting at the Columbia Mall – awful, and it’s personal! – compared to how I have felt when reading of the other shootings, fires, and tragedies in the U.S. – awful, but I don’t know that area so it doesn’t affect me quite as personally – gives me the perspective to better understand it, and a few words to better express it.
The people of Northern Norway are a thousand miles away from Lærdal and most have probably never been there … but the history, culture, and community of the country mean they are as personally affected and concerned as those that live in that area and truly have a more personal connection.
I could go into thoughts about the terrible shooting here in 2011, as that has a more direct comparision to yesterday’s shooting at the Columbia Mall, but I *know* I don’t have the words to express my emotions about that. (It happened the day before I was scheduled to fly back to Norway after a visit to the States, and all I could think about was getting home to Bergen and Jan and being with him as he and his fellow Norwegians processed that senseless day.)
Plus, that would start to delve into politics – and I try very hard to keep politics out of my blog. I have strong opinions, but this blog isn’t the place I want to express them.
But with politics as well as with tragedies, this expat and U.S. citizen reacts to all things around her with emotions … and that’s what I’m experiencing now. That is the only authentic response I can offer. These thoughts are all over the emotional map, but that’s appropriate for me.
My heart hurts for both areas, and especially for the families of those affected. Stay safe, my blogosphere connections, wherever in the world your heart, emotions, and physical presence have taken you.
sports memories, martinis, and cows – Chicago style!
Traveling from Bergen to Iowa, I flew to Copenhagen and then O’Hare one day, and then on to Cedar Rapids the next day. I stayed at the Holiday Inn in Rosemont, Illinois – free shuttle from and to O’Hare – and relaxed and slept from the journey before continuing on to family.
I felt remarkably wired after the first leg of the journey – usually I’m dragging after the long flight, but my time in the Copenhagen airport had certainly helped my alertness-factor!
I decided to splurge on a good meal at the Holiday Inn’s restaurant … and immediately took a trip back in time.
It was one of the three Harry Caray’s restaurants, and the sports memorabilia on the walls took me to the late 1960’s/early 1970’s Chicago Cubs baseball games with my family as I was growing up; I haven’t thought of that Cindi in all the time I’ve been an expat. Harry Carey was the announcer *after* my time as a Bleacher Bum attending games (I remember Jack Brickhouse and his “Hey-hey!” excitement whenever the Cubs did something fantastic – not very often, sigh – but Harry Carey and his “Holy Cow!” was the Cubs’ announcer after we had moved from the area).
At the restaurant I was slammed with the memories from the photos along the walls! It was an unexpected meeting of pre-teen me and mid-50’s me. I wanted to walk around and take photos of the photos, but thought the other diners might *not* appreciate me leaning across their prime rib to focus my camera on the wall above their table.
I did snap this one in the entry, but no memories here; I liked Harry’s bust sculpture surrounded by photos of celebrities who have visited this particular location:
I was feeling so alert and celebratory (I was awake! I could talk with the staff! And most importantly, I could understand what they were saying!) that I ordered one of their vodka martinis – shaken-not-stirred with top shelf Grey Goose, wave the vermouth over the top, and three olives please. It arrived so fresh and cold and light tasting…I sipped half of it fairly quickly, it was so refreshing.
Being in the Mid-West, I had decided I should order beef – something we don’t eat very often in Norway (for health and for expense reasons). Prime rib arrived soon after, so I finished my martini and dug in.
And within 10 minutes I was so light-headed from the travel and vodka, and so full from just 1/4 of the beef, that I almost regretted the decision to dine out. 🙂
Almost. I slowed down and ate a bit more, regretfully had to leave a lot on the plate, and had a fantastic night’s sleep.
Waiting for the shuttle to O’Hare the next morning I was able to get a picture of one of Chicago’s Cow Parade sculptures from its spot outside the restaurant. With Harry Carey’s glasses, I could almost hear him saying, “Holy Cow! Welcome back to the U.S., Cindi!”
our own piece of heaven
London was wonderful and exciting (more photos and thoughts to come), but I have to admit that when we got back a week ago I stood outside and soaked in the space, quiet and view. (I purposely chose the word “soaked” – it’s rained every day since we got back.)
But today is sunny, and MacKenzie is expressing exactly the way I feel: after time away, it’s wonderful to sit up on our “hill” and survey our own piece of heaven.
Ironically, there was a tour boat going by on the fjord 100 meters below us – other travelers exploring a new part of the world for them!
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