Monday, November 29, 2010

My favourite part of the year!

Mandag ettermiddag 2
It's here, it's here! What's here, you may ask, and the answer is: everything nice, covered in ice!

Winter is here. A few weeks ago, frost descended on Grünerløkka with a hush and a faint crackle, and it hasn't lifted. I don't think it will for a long time. A shame for the ducks on the river and the poor, shivering rats. (That's right. I think they're cute. I don't want one in my room, but I thinks it's fine that they're in the basement. I know. I shall make a crazy, crazy old woman one day.) But wonderful for the rest of us! Everything sparkles, everything crunches, there are puffs of breath and wisps of smoke and the scent of birch wood on the air. And yesterday, the snow came, too, on the breast of an icy northern gale. It was almost too cold to go outside. But today the snow is rosy and calm in the red sun. I love it, even if it is a little chilly when Magnus and I go out in the mornings.

Advent is here. Yesterday was the first Sunday of Advent, and I got out my decorations. The star, the four-armed candlestick, the mistletoe, the white paper stars and the little doe. I love them all, (and so does Balthasar, because he loves to show that little doe who's boss. This morning I found it on the bathroom rug.) and I'm so glad they're here to stay for a good month.

Christmas is here. Which is the same, but not. I secretly love this part of Christmas the most. I watch Christmas movies, listen to Christmas music, read Christmas magazines, nibble on cookies and marzipan and clementines and chocolate, have spicy tea.

The wild and crazy flurry of things to do is here. I haven't even started the shopping yet. This year I don't have much money for presents, but I'm going to make it work anyhow. The other day, Magnus and I stopped outside the toystore to look at a pretty window display, with moving trains and little ice skaters. His eyes were very wide. It was so sweet, but still only a tiny taste of what is to come. Because Magnus doesn't know yet. He doesn't know how Christmas will make his little belly tingle with anticipation and delight. The other day I read a letter in the newspaper that went something like this:

Dear Sir,

Could you please make time go faster so that Christmas can come? I can't bear the waiting anymore.

Marthe 6 1/2

Ah, but Marthe, you must be careful what you ask for. As it says in one of the Astrid Lindgren stories I always read this time of year:

'Christmas Eve is a long day, but even so, it ends. The candles have burnt down, everyone has received their presents, everyone has cracked their nuts, everyone has eaten apples and candy, no one wants to do more singing around the Christmas tree. That's when Marikken hides her face in her hands and sobs heartachingly.
- Oh mother, it's over! I can't believe that's it's already over!'

But that moment is almost four weeks from now. Thank heavens!

Thursday, November 25, 2010

In the spirit of the day

It's thanksgiving, and as usual, there are heaps and tons of things to be thankful for in my life. Needless to say, this little guy is at the top of the list:

See how funny he is? He just loves to play hide and seek. I'm also thankful that he likes his daycare centre. The main reason for this, I suspect, is his cool and competent teacher Prema, who sent me these photos. The boy has taste, I'll give him that!

We're actually not really celebrating until tomorrow, since everyone's got work on Friday. But happy thanksgiving to you! I hope that your turkey is perfect, and that the pie is sweet, and that even if you're not the gobble-gobbling type, you are safe and surrounded by family and loved ones.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

A note of hesitation

Good afternoon, Twistrose, my neglected story. It's been a whole week (of sick child and ensuing chaos) since I saw you last. Now I don't quite know how to approach you. You're like a house that I have returned to after a long, exhausting journey. You look the same, but not.

I can't find any changes in your facade. But you're taller, more forbidding somehow, and I have this sinking feeling that things have been happening underneath your roof that have nothing to do with me.

Behind your windows, clocks are ticking. Cogwheels are turning. There's a draft in your stairways, and your backyard is darker.

So I'm writing you this, skulking at the gate, peering at the shadows behind your frosted panes. Hope I still have the key somewhere.

photo 'haunted mansion' by express monorail

Friday, November 19, 2010

The jedi and the kitchen table goblin

At fourteen months, Magnus has constructed his first lightsaber. Now I'm just waiting for him to mutter 'This is not the pacifier you're looking for'.

He has a new friend, too. One day, I noticed that he kept peeking under the kitchen table, giggling and babbling and clapping his hands. I looked under the table, but there was nothing there. Then I noticed two knot holes in the grain of the wood. They are just like two brown eyes, twinkling and merry. Apparantely, Magnus has befriended the goblin in the table, and now they share secrets and jokes.

That's the first time Magnus' imagination has truly revealed itself, and it makes my eyes well up with joy.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Neck + Love

Soft and softer
There are certains corners of the universe that simply must be kissed.