That is today, Saturday, June 27. If you are like me and have not had the chance to pitch your tent yet this Summer, today is the excuse you have been waiting for, and you don’t even have to leave home. Yes, it is a nationwide camping celebration right in your own backyard, and the weather here could not be better. It should tide you over until your opportunity for a free camping trip in one of the 100+ national parks that are waiving entrance fees on select weekends this Summer. The first was over Father’s Day – the first official day of Summer – but there are still two left.
Speaking of Father’s Day, my family plus Josh took dad out to Red Lobster in Lewiston last Sunday.
Josh, Kristen, and I followed that up with some shopping at Eddie Bauer, which was holding a bankruptcy sale where Kristen scored a sweet umbrella.
On our way back to Moscow, the three of us took a detour-turned-wild-goose-chase to find a Swedish Summer festival that I had seen advertised downtown. Unlike here, midsummer is a widely celebrated holiday in Scandinavia, where the longest day of the year means it never gets dark. We were unsure what to expect, except that it was being held at the oldest Lutheran church in Idaho and would feature some traditional fiddle playing. Despite the wet and chilly weather, we were glad we decided to stop by, no matter how it may seem from my facial expression in the following video.
More photos of Cordelia Church, as well as recent sunsets, rainbows, and homemade Indian dinners are up on Flickr.
I am up early. I could hardly doze off last night because I was afraid I would sleep in, but prayer number one has been answered. It will be a long day, so please keep the prayers coming. It has been great staying at the Marlborough Hostel, and yesterday was another beautiful day in Dublin. I hopped on a bus tour of the city and visited Trinity College, Christ Church Cathedral, and the Guinness and Jameson museums. My camera battery was exhausted by lunchtime, though I did have my backup along. I have been having too much fun with still compositions to shoot much video, but since the camcorder also takes (unbelievably lousy) photos, I was able to document the rest of the day. You’ll have to wait to see that until I get back to the States, but I will say that one day exploring Dublin only made me want to see more. For example, I could imagine at least another day on a literary tour through the city that produced authors like W.B. Yeats, Oscar Wilde, James Joyce and George Bernard Shaw. Yesterday, however, was for sampling the brewing and distilling heritage of Ireland. I was going to leave you with a video of our whiskey tasting, but time is awastin’, and I must catch my bus. Good-bye Ireland. It’s Moscow or bust.
With less than one week until I am scheduled to arrive in Moscow, I am counting down the days. It will be an interesting journey home: I had anticipated being able to use this time in Kristiansand for planning my three days in Ireland, but due to various reasons – including a paycheck that is late in coming – I will be winging it once I arrive in Dublin. Besides, I have received such a warm welcome here that it is beginning to feel like home, and I have been connecting with new and old friends on a daily basis since I arrived. Picking up where I left off yesterday, here is a quick summary of my final week in Norway:
Sunday, May 3: Karl Sigve finally has a day off following a church conference, and we take a relaxed afternoon hike through the woods that border his neighborhood. We talk about life, family and the future and enjoy another incredible view over the city. At several points along the way, I am forced to pause just to take it in. It is beautiful here, and I am going to miss Norway. We make our way home in time for Karl Sigve to go prepare for the evening’s worship service, and I follow on foot a couple hours later. I have heard so much from him about his congregation, and now I finally have the opportunity to join them. I recognize several more faces from the camp last Summer, and I feel welcomed by the fact that many of them also recognize me. When we arrive home, Karl Sigve showcases his ability in the kitchen with a delectable lamb fillet dinner, and we pass the evening over another bottle of wine.
Monday, May 4: We are up early before Karl Sigve is back to the grind. He works for a small outfit that delivers and supports measurement and diagnostic tools for automobiles. You might remember that I had the chance to join him on the job a couple of years ago.
Karl Sigve on the job - November 15, 2007
Happy with the day's work
Karl Sigve invites me to join him and his colleagues for lunch. I make the fifteen minute walk to the office (the walk I made to church the day before, since they meet in the same office/shopping complex). I rendezvous with him and Henning at the store for their daily lunchtime ritual of grocery shopping, taste sampling, and chatting it up with baker Berit. We climb the stairs two stories to find Torbjørn, both boss and pastor, and the four of us make smalltalk over open face sandwiches, pastry and coffee. Before returning home to the apartment, I make another round in the grocery store and emerge with two rather heavy shopping bags and an unwieldy bouquet that was even more unmanageable thanks to the wind that hasn’t seemed to stop blowing since I got to Kristiansand. The flowers make it home in one piece, and after Karl Sigve gets home from work, we arrive fashionably late for Åshild’s early birthday BBQ, followed by Swedish jokes and coffee.
Tuesday, May 5: Apart from Karl Sigve’s circle, I think it is safe to say I know only one other person in Kristiansand, and I could not visit the city without meeting up with her. From my first day at Kvitfjell, Anette and I have had a special connection, and we spent many good times together during my first season on the mountain. Last year, however, she made the move to Kristiansand to study journalism, so I have missed having her around.
Tuesday, I take the bus into the center for the first time since Karl Sigve picked me up at the train station. Anette finds me shortly after, and we take a walk to the fish market, past some of her local hangouts, and eventually to Herlig Land for a bite to eat (which, coincidentally, is the last restaurant I dined at with Karl Sigve during my Christmas visit in 2007). We enjoy catching up over lunch, then go on an unsuccessful hunt for a music store, all but one of which have apparently moved to a large shopping center outside of town. With better luck, I would have hoped to snag a copy of Medea, the sophomore album from Oslo’s Jenny Hval and her project, Rockettothesky. I first learned of her when Janne posted this mystical video for the single “Grizzly Man”:
Mr. Boklund picks me up and gives Anette a lift on our way to a tasty lasagna dinner with his wife, Ruth Silje, their two children, Noah Emil and Matilda, as well as the Feed sisters and Maria’s son, Jonatan. Between remote control helicopters and wind-up race cars, we follow up mealtime with coffee and Norway’s best shot at American chocolate chip cookies before Solvor and I join Henning on the way to his brother and sister-in-law’s home for house group. We sing, share and pray together (over coffee, of course) before I hitch a ride back to the apartment with Siv and her sister, Lisbeth.
Wednesday, May 6: Of all the travel decisions I have had to make, the hardest has been whether I would be able to swing a trip to Feda. Karl Sigve’s schedule has not allowed for it. In fact, this morning he is off to Oslo for an overnight business trip. Today, I break the news to Bjørn and Marit, who have always treated me like a son, that I will not be joining them at Håland, where they are busy with work on the farm. Marit expresses that they will forgive me this time, as long as I promise to return. I need no convincing. There are several reasons why I decide to skip what is probably my favorite place in Norway: despite the fact that I am now on “vacation,” the past month has been chock full of work, packing, planning and traveling. As relaxing as life is in Feda, I need a chance to simply catch my breath, so I spend my first full day alone at the apartment, except for a welcome visit from Åshild, who drops by for an evening stroll.
Today, Thursday, May 7: Karl Sigve returns from Oslo tonight. I sleep in for only the second time, thanks to the construction crew that has been drilling, sawing and hammering out a foundation for a new garden on the other side of my bedroom wall. (All bets are on that the finished flower bed will be more aesthetically pleasing than it sounds.) As much as I enjoy updating this blog, even simple updates like this one take me hours to write, so that is what I have done today. Tonight I plan to join the rest of the house group for coffee (!) downtown, and any extra time left in the day will be used for getting ready to leave Kristiansand.
Tomorrow, Friday, May 8: Tina and Runar will be in town for a trip to the zoo with Ida Sofie and Tor Martin. They have invited me to come along (which will only be in keeping with the theme of the past week) before accompanying them on the drive back to Skien for the night.
Saturday, May 9: The bittersweet day of my departure. If all goes according to plan, Tina will drive me to the airport on Saturday in time to hop an afternoon flight to Dublin. I will need a lot of prayer and a little bit of luck for things to work out there. Of course, they always seem to. Besides, it’s Ireland!
01-23-2009, originally uploaded by beemartins.
In addition to the price of gas, I saw some unusual things today. The first was when I rolled over in bed this morning – 6:22am on my alarm clock. I needed to wake up early for a doctor’s appointment, but my alarm was set for seven. Sometimes my body likes to play tricks on me, and I can’t remember the last time I woke up that early.
The next happened shortly after. I stepped out of the shower and checked the weather to discover that it was a balmy ten degrees outside. When I pulled the blinds in my room, I was greeted by this scene from The Day After Tomorrow.
Frost inside my window pane. I later discovered icicles.
On my way to the doctor’s office, as if in defiance, I stopped for breakfast at McDonald’s. I’ve been there a lot lately, but I had never seen a McDonald’s delivery truck in the McDonald’s drive-thru. At least they have confidence in their product. (By the way, have you heard this story? Compared to this.)
At the doctor’s office, I saw something else I hadn’t seen in a while: 158.5 lbs on the scale. I don’t check my weight ritually, but after going down to 140 after last year’s operation, I’m glad to be back where I used to be. Of course, I did have a few layers on.
Driving home, I noticed a warehouse whose sprinkler system was running. It felt more like watching snow production on a ski hill. The result was ponds of ice neatly arranged on an impressively green lawn.
When I tuned in to Headline News this afternoon, I got to watch a live high-speed car chase in Oklahoma City all the way to its conclusion. Incidentally, I have developed a secret crush on this news anchor, whose resume includes working for KTVB in Boise. Not only is she gorgeous, she delivers her stories with the most personality and class I have seen on any news program since Anchorman.
And finally, perhaps the most unusual thing that happened today was finding this in my oven:
My first single-handed attempt in the kitchen since moving to Wisconsin - from a recipe booklet on loan from Aunt Sue: Ham 'n' Tater Bake, appropriately topped with cheddar cheese.
I’m used to hearing English with a Norwegian accent, so I had a rough time ordering my lunch from a couple of Hispanics today. I ate at a place called Chipotle Burritos & Tacos, which is like Taco Bell meets Quiznos in the food co-op. I think one of these would do well in Moscow.
