Halloweeeeeeen!

It's Halloween in Norway, and although I was in Oslo and missed out on the goings-on at home in Lillehammer, I got the report, with pictures to boot. 

Erik bought what may have been the last pumpkin in town on October 30th for about $25. What is particularly amusing about the packaging of the pumpkin--aside from the fact that it actually comes with packaging--is that there are instructions on How To Carve a Pumpkin. Although I can't be so sure, it does sort of appear that #4 instructions the user to put a candle on the top of the pumpkin. . . 

We were struck with an early arrival of winter in Lillehammer, and had nearly 10 inches of snow on the ground for Halloween. This did not seem to damper the spirits of our little witch (whose costume was bought at Joanne Fabrics in the US a few weeks ago for about $5). As I wrote last year, Norway embraces the "gory" side of Halloween--the ghouls, skeletons, blood, creepy stuff--and it seems to attract mainly elementary school age kids. Having a 3-year-old princess walking around the neighborhood last year collecting candy was a bit of an anomaly--both because she was 3 and because she was a princess. This year she decided to be a witch, which sounded good to us, being a little more in line with the local "customs". (As if respecting the local customs of a 100% imported American holiday is important. . .)  Having a 4-year-old witch out trick or treating was strange enough.

Erik stuffed Greta into a snowsuit, stretched the cheap-o witch dress over the snowsuit and pulled her hair back with a black buff and skull cap to fit under the witch's hat. Top it off with some purple mittens (which, along with the purple snowsuit, blended quite nicely with the purple witch's dress) and Greta was set for trick or treatin' Norwegian style. They headed to a slightly more American/British-ized neighborhood where we had success last year, and collected an amusing selection of goodies. Among those were loose, unwrapped pepperkaker cookies (traditional Norwegian Christmas cookies, now being sold in the stores), a candy cane, Christmas chocolates, and a package of single-serving hot chocolate mix!

Syttende Mai

Greta in her American version of a bunad,
(made by her Dutch grandmother)

Norwegians gather in Lillehammer 
for the Syttende Mai parade

Well, I very well can't let two Syttende Mai-s pass by without writing a bit about Norway's most beloved national holiday! 


The 17th of May is Norway's constitution day, but not independence day. Norway signed their constitution in 1814 when they were under the rule of Denmark, only to then find themselves transferred to Sweden when Denmark was on the losing end of the Napoleonic War. Norway finally became independent a good 91 years later in 1905.


Many have heard about Norway's "Syttende Mai" parades, and they are not exactly what I was expecting. Syttende Mai is often described as a day for the children, and the parade is not a parade for children as much as it is a parade of the children. When Americans think of parades--especially a national day parade--we think of big marching bands, floats, clowns, politicians, princesses. A Syttende Mai parade (or tog, which also means train) consists of the children in town marching down the main street behind a rather simple banner announcing their respective schools. And waving flags. LOTS of flag. Perhaps about half of the schools had a small band--every one complete with baton twirlers. One might expect a bit of school competitiveness--who's got the best banner, or who can shout the loudest, but the cheers didn't seem to get more elaborate than "Hipp-hipp-hurray!" Seriously. 


However. . . Norwegians do not attend these parade, nor participate in these parades, dressed in their everyday jeans and handknit sweaters. Quite the contrary. They dress up in elaborate, traditional, national costumes and jewelry that cost them thousands of dollars, and are worn on Syttende Mai and perhaps Christmas and the occasional wedding. The costumes--or bunad--are regional, and one chooses a bunad based on where in Norway one's family originated. This makes for a very colorful, festive day, and the sight of hundreds or thousands of people walking around in these elaborate dresses and suits makes you feel like you were sent back 200 years. (We won't mention the fact that 200 years ago Norway was dirt poor, and it was probably very unlikely that people owned such fine clothing and jewelry!) It is really a very incredible sight, and very touching, actually, to see such a commitment to tradition and such pride in one's roots and culture. And it is not just the 50 year old women dressed in their finest. Everyone from the 4-year olds at the barnehages, to the 16 year old girls wearing their bunader for the very first time (they often are a confirmation gift), to the 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80 year olds. . .  And if the men don't have a bunad, they are most likely dressed in a suit and tie. 

Erik to the far left (in the red tie) and
Greta third from the left in the barnehage tog (parade)

This year's parade started at 10:30am in the pouring rain. The rain cleared by 11am or so, soon enough for us to rid ourselves of our rain gear and display our finery (with a layer of wool underneath). We watched the main children's parade, after which Greta immediately asked: "Pappa, on the 17th of May, can we eat as much ice cream as one wants? I haven't gotten any ice cream yet!" And thus we joined in Norwegian Syttende Mai tradition #2: eat as much ice cream and hotdogs (pølse) as you want. So, there you have it: not all of their traditions are quaint. 


By 2pm, we made our way up to Maihaugen, the open-air museum, for the barnehage (preschool) parade for the 5 and under crowd. There are probably about 20+ barnehages in town, and this parade is even more amusing (or simply odd?) than the regular parade, because you just can't send several hundred 2, 3, 4 and 5 year old marching down a path by themselves, waving to their beaming parents on the side. Someone has to go with them. Someone has to accompany nearly every single one of them, because take them out of the familiar barnehage context, they now look at their best friend in this funny hat or dress and act like total strangers and don't want to be left alone. (And the teachers aren't there to organize, because they are off with their own families, with their own kids, as they should be). So, the barnehage parade is basically a parade of the barnehages, consisting of a parent holding the banner, more parents, strollers, kids and a very sparse publicum (mostly grandparents or hangers-on) to wave and toot horns from the sidelines. But, it is an event not to be missed, if you ask my child. She's been talking about it for months. 


Despite the rain and chill in the air, and the fact that I had to work at 3pm and leave the festivities early, it was a lovely day. All day long we kept running into people we knew: Erik's work colleagues, teachers, fellow language students, the man who cleans at the barnehage, women from the ski group, the guy who laid our bathroom tile, a guy from Erik's ski group, neighbors, casual acquaintances, my work colleagues, the guy from the coffee shop, fellow American ex-pats. . .  On a day that seems so foreign--both because it is not my history and not my culture, nor is it a tradition that I have lifelong memories of-- it was very lovely to feel attached to this place and to people and to be warmly greeted and "congratulated on the day!" down every street. 

Copenhagen: Flashback to December

Copenhagen in December

In an effort to remind myself just How Damn Good Life Really Is, I'm reflecting back a few months. We were very lucky this past Christmas to have been invited to escape the construction mess and instead spend the holidays with my in-laws for a week in Paris. We decided to take the opportunity to have an 8-hour layover in Copenhagen and spend the day enjoying another Nordic capital in the days leading up to Christmas before we headed further south.

Overlooking a canal with quaint
buildings behind us

It was hovering around freezing and overcast, but we were prepared with stroller, snowsuit and layers of wool (like any good Norwegians). We spent the majority of the day walking around the center of Copenhagen, window shopping and enjoying a tasty lunch accompanied by a strongly alcoholic mug of gløgg, a specialty Nordic holiday drink of spices and wine and rum. I had only had the norsk grocery store bottled version, which I now swear to never drink again 'cause the Danish version was killer.

As darkness approached around 4pm, we headed to the Tivoli--the permanent carnival located in the center of Copenhagen. It was filled with Christmas trees, and covered with lights. We were quite shocked at the entrance fee to even just walk around (slips my mind now how much it was, but maybe $30 for the family??) and we limited our rides to a single carousel ride and mini-ferris wheel. It was enough. We had all woken at 4:30am to catch the train to the airport and Greta had napped all of 30 minutes in the stroller. And the day was young: we wouldn't be arriving into Paris until nearly 10pm.

Double-decker carousel at night in Tivoli

I was surprised, impressed and charmed by the grandeur of Copenhagen, even in the bleak gray daytime. It still had a very sensible Scandinavian feel to it--hordes of cyclists commuting through the streets and everyone bundled up against the cold--but it felt different from Oslo. Oslo lacks much of the truly old, ornate, impressive architecture that gives European cities such a distinctive feel, but it wasn't until I visited Copenhagen that I really was able to recognize that myself. When the grand stately buildings in Copenhagen were being built, Norway was the poorest land in Europe and Denmark owned it. That explains a lot.

We hope to visit again, hopefully in a brighter, warmer time of year, and with a little more than 8 hours (and $30) to spend.

We escape!

A foggy view up the Tower

 Still no internet access at the new house, so I try to squeeze in an hour or so at the library cafe, with a cappuccino to keep me company. 


Many friends have remarked how fun it must have been to spend Christmas in our new house, but the truth is we celebrated a very different Christmas this year. . . by escaping to Paris!


My in-laws wanted to spend Christmas with us, and luckily we came to our senses early enough in the remodeling process to realize that our home would not be very welcoming to guests by Christmas, even though we ourselves would be living there. Instead we opted to meet in Paris, joined by Erik's sister and her friends. It was perhaps my first Christmas ever without snow, aside from my first year of life in sunny Santa Barbara, California. But I must say, 45-50 degrees and sunny was a welcome breath of fresh air. 


We had a 9 hour layover in Copenhagen, which we took full advantage of, taking a 10 minute train ride into the center of town to take in the pre-Christmas atmosphere of a bustling Scandinavian city. We spent six days in Paris, and while it wasn't exactly relaxing in the poolside-vacation sense of the word, it was a welcomed break from the chaos of remodeling and moving that we've been immersed in for the past 7 months. 


I found it incredibly difficult to even utter simple French words like "merci" or "au revoir" or even "non". As I opened my mouth to respond, Norwegian words came out--not English--Norwegian! If I bumped into a person in a store, I wouldn't say "excusez-moi", I'd say "Unnskyld!" A waiter in a restaurant asked us (in English) what "other" language we spoke, after I responded "nei" to one of his English questions. It was quite amusing, actually, and even rather reassuring. I am so deeply immersed in Norwegian it is, in many cases, the first language that comes to my brain. I would read French signs, or rather see signs in French, and realize that had they been in Norwegian--I could understand them. My confidence in my language skills was boosted, and all it took was a trip to France to do so. 


We spent our New Year's Eve with the same friends that we celebrated with a year ago. It was very comforting to feel that we have established such good friendships in just 16 months that we have now spent two consecutive holidays with one another. And after spending the entire evening speaking--and understanding--Norwegian with each other, I realized once again how far I have come in the last year. 

A Norwegian tradition: Kristoffer smashes the
gingerbread house on New Year's Eve,
while Greta and Sebastian duck!

A year ago I was just beginning my formal Norwegian classes; classes that would prove to be both challenging and disappointing in their level and quality of instruction. On Thursday I will resume my classes again, meeting two days a week as we did throughout the fall. I was incredibly distracted and busy this fall, and felt like I neglected my studies like I have never done before in my life. I'm hoping that I can recommit myself to mastering this language this semester. The trip to France, in some ways, gave me extra motivation and encouragement to do so. 


I am also assembling material and letters to bring to SAFH (nursing license organization) in regards to both my midwife and nursing licenses. After the newspaper article, SAFH kicked their efforts into full gear, and responded to my midwife application within 3 weeks. Their judgement/assessment was not entirely satisfactory (in my humble opinion), but after some clarification about my experiences and qualification from my student midwife education, I am hopeful the application will be viewed more favorably. Ever hopeful, I am. 

life is a bit nuts!

I had every intention of getting a "Christmas letter" up on the blog, for those who are doing a season check-in. I can't believe nearly a month has gone by since a real update--butter shortage post not withstanding.


But, we have been a little busy. We successfully moved out of our apartment on the 10th of December and into the yet unfinished house. The whole family is sleeping on mattresses in the downstairs office/guest room, and our kitchen consists of a refrigerator and microwave. There are no doors in the house yet, and I find myself turning OFF lights to go the bathroom, because if you're on the toilet, and lean a leeeeeeetle to the right. . . I have a great view of our neighbor's front door. 


But, it's coming along. The upstairs is nearly completely painted, lighting is nearly completely done and I think we have move into our bedrooms upstairs after Christmas. Erik is working steadily on the kitchen cabinets, and we should have our counter in place today. Now that we are all in the same house, my nights are much more house-focused than they have been for the past, oh, 7 months. For the first time in 7 months, once Greta is asleep, I get right to work on house projects (namely painting). My Norwegian homework is suffering, my blog is ignored, and Greta's doll's Christmas dress is not getting knitted. 

May 20th:
Peering into the kitchen

On top of it all, there's this whole Christmas season approaching us. Greta is enjoying a chocolate advent calendar, and getting very excited about the Nisse Far visiting on Christmas. We're kind of having a hard time keeping our stories straight, or rather, combining them together. She seems to "understand" that Santa brings presents, as does the Nisse Far, so they really are the same people. But while Santa lives in the North Pole, the Nisse Far really doesn't. Santa comes down the chimney, but the Nisse Far doesn't seem to need to do that. The combination of English and Norwegian books and movies, stories and theater performances she's seen is confusing. It's probably best to just let her lead the story, and put together whatever combination she prefers. 

Dec 20th:
Peering into the kitchen

There is so much more like I'd to write about: the house progress, progress on the nursing/midwife license, the Christmas letter, Norway's butter shortage, my Norwegian class, a email correspondence with a American midwife in France, and things I referred to many posts back and promised to write about but never did. Alas. . . only 24 hours in the day.

Post-Halloween letter to the editor

A letter on the back page of the local paper (kind of letter to the general public) today read:


Can we not cut out all of Halloween? Is there anything positive about it? My children have never had permission and it hasn't been a problem! 


Signed "Anti-Halloween mom".


Now, I'm not a huge crazy-Halloween fan, but c'mon Boring Lady! Dressing up in a crazy costume? Visiting your neighbors and having them giggle and comment on your get-up? Walking around the neighborhood on a dark, chilly night, running into your friends and classmates disguised in their crazy costumes? That alone is fun for a kid. I don't even have to mention the candy. . .


I feel sorry for the kids of that mom. Not that they didn't ever go Trick or Treating, but if that's her attitude about kids and fun, I hate to imagine what her idea of fun is. . .

Halloween in Norway: Knep eller Knask?

Living on top of a quiet, steep hill last Halloween, we didn't have a good idea of exactly how Halloween was celebrated in Norway. We've had a number of folks tell us that the holiday didn't come to Norway until about 10 years ago, and it seems a bit slow to catch on.

Halloween in Norway is a holiday that celebrates the scary, ghoulish, and gruesome. It also seems to be a holiday aimed at the school aged kids, but not so much the pre-school or high school kids. So no adorable pea-pod costumes for the babies, no Curious George costumes for the toddlers, no princess costumes for the 3 1/2 year olds. . .

. . . that is, until Greta came to town.

Seeing that our life these days can best be described as chaotic, I hadn't given Halloween too much thought, until a local American-married-to-Norwegian friend invited us to come to their home and neighborhood for Trick or Treating. I felt guilty for about, oh--two seconds, over the fact that Greta didn't have a darling new Halloween costume. Then I realized that she's 3, and has no clue what Halloween is about. For that matter, we have no clue what Halloween is about in Norway, so I quickly got over that initial mamma-guilt.

I dug Greta's fairy wings and fairy crown out of storage, and she lit up with excitement when I did the big costume reveal on Halloween night. Voila! Your regular dress-up purple princess/fairy dress and fairy wings that you haven't seen in 4 months! She was all for it. We layered up on wool long underwear and fleece, and we were set. That is, until she spotted a single square inch of pink satin sticking out of a bag.

"What's that?" she asked, curiously.
"Just. . . uh. . . a pink hat." It was, in fact, an entire pink satin princess ensemble lent to me by my friend Kim the American as a possible costume for Greta. In the spirit of "keeping life simple" and "what does she know about not wearing everyday dress-up clothes for Halloween anyway?", and in a hope to avoid any post-Halloween breakdowns when we had to give the costume back, I had kept the pink costume in a bag to return to its owner.

"What hat?" she asks, eyes wide.
"Oh. . this one? Do you want to wear it?" I ask, acting surprised. I manage to do a fancy, magic mamma move and keep the dress in the bag while only pulling out the hat--one of those pointy, cone shaped princess-in-a-tower kind of hats, with the streaming, glittery tulle off the top.

Greta has already removed her fairy crown, but her little mind is too sharp. "What else is in there?" she wonders, and she reaches for the bag.

"Oh. . . this pink dress?" I'm doomed. Greta is tearing off the fairy wings and yanking the purple princess/fairy dress off her shoulders. She couldn't get that pink dress on fast enough.

We went trick or treating with Kim and her 8 year old daughter and niece--all 3 witches of some sort, as well as two dads of American/Norwegian families and their two respective 5 year-old sons, who were a skeleton and a dragon. The dragon costume was totally awesome. And totally American. Kim escorted us around the neighborhood, which seems to have a high proportion of Americans, Brits and Norwegians-who-have-lived-abroad-and-understand-the-concept-of-Halloween living there. The neighborhood was certainly not mobbed with Trick or Treaters, asking "Knep eller Knask?", not even half the homes were participating, and most of them didn't have jack o' lanterns out. But it was a wonderful crisp fall evening and Greta was thrilled to pieces.

As for the princess costume, it was a big hit, with kid, neighbors and parents alike. The neighbors were delighted to see a charming pink princess instead of a bloody, bludgeoned head on their doorstep. And Greta practically floated around the neighborhood. I think we have some time before she embraces the gory, Norwegian Halloween, which is fine with me. On our walk around the neighborhood, she announced, "I don't like the scary costumes, I just like the pretty ones."

Perhaps we'll start a campaign for Cute or Clever Costumes for Kids for Halloween.

St. Hans Dag

Summer solstice has come and gone, with the official sunrise at 3:40am and sunset a mere 19 hours and 19 minutes later at 10:59pm, 13 hours and 49 minutes longer than at winter solstice. In other words. . . it's all downhill from here.

We celebrated St. Hans Dag--the (un?)official marking of summer solstice in Norway--by joining the throngs and Erik's colleagues who have children at Maihaugen, drinking champagne to celebrate my kicking ass on my Norwegian test, huddling under an umbrella as a quick summer storm raced through, watching an abbreviated children's version of Peer Gynt (which I didn't understand at all), sneaking a 3-year old into the men's single-stall outdoor bathroom because there was no line and the women's line was ridiculous, eliciting disapproving looks from all the orderly Norwegian women, listening to Norwegian oompah-oompah music, eating a requisite ice cream cone while wearing jeans, wool socks, long sleeves and a fleece jacket, and eventually watching a bonfire burn on a very small island (recently inhabited by a mother duck and her 9 goslings). Whew. Busy night.We all tumbled into bed around 10:30. . . Greta included.

The whole evening had kind of a Fourth of July feel to it: summer celebration, families with picnics, music, games and ice cream, and gathering on a hillside waiting for a fire-inspired extravaganza. I may have sounded a little sarcastic, but it really was a very pleasant, lovely night. I enjoyed recognizing the true start of summer, and acknowledgement of our position in the universe for just that day. Yes, I would have appreciated a little more warmth, but I was Officially Not Cold.

Daisy wreaths were a popular accessory

Some revelers, whooping it up on the hillside

And then there were these two crazy cats,
who wished they had marshmallows (or Peeps)
and a really long stick.

Godt Nytt År!

We were invited to spend New Year's Eve with our Norwegian friends, Roger and Merete, and their two boys who are in Greta's barnehage. Erik's parents are visiting us for a week or so over New Years, so they joined us as well. Apparently their 5-year-old, while very excited that Greta was coming to visit, was not so excited that she was bringing her English speaking grandparents, and disappointedly asked his mother before we arrived, "Do we have to speak English tonight?" Not that he was doing much speaking, but having his mother speak it limits his own understanding of our conversation. I know how you feel, kid!

Since I didn't see a TV in their living room, and I have no idea if there is a Norwegian equivalent of Dick Clark or the Times Square ball, I asked, "How will we know it's officially the New Year?" They responded that there would be fireworks set off around the neighborhood.

This was an understatement. About 10-15 minutes before the New Year, individual homes began setting off their fireworks. Roger and Merete live on in a hillside that looks over much of southern Lillehammer and Lake Mjøsa: the view is quite spectacular. We all gathered out on their deck, in jackets and blankets, and a little champagne and watched probably no fewer than 50 homes set off thousands of kroner-worth of fireworks. It was amazing!

Photo by Stian Furuseth, from http://hagenigutua.blogspot.com/

Incidentally, their 5 year-old, who was so excited to watch the raketter (rockets) at midnight, fell asleep around 11:15pm. He was an absolute noodle at midnight, and impossible to rouse for the fireworks display. Greta, on the other hand, was too wound up from playing with her friends and sleeping in a strange new environment was out of the question. She rang in the New Year in her jammies, wrapped up in several blankets in our arms, out on the porch with the rest of us.

I hope you all had a festive New Years, and have caught up on sleep in the meantime. I am looking forward to the new adventures this new year will bring: first of all, my language classes starting on January 3rd!

Let the Christmas festivities begin!

Christmas Tree at Maihaugen
resplendent in hand-knit ornaments

Pappa and Greta by the tree,
ready to brave the brisk outdoors

Saturday seemed to be the official kick-off of the Christmas season in Lillehammer. Maihaugen, the open-air museum, hosted a Christmas market as well as several activities for children around the grounds. In the late afternoon/early evening was the opening of Christmas Street, the main pedestrian shopping district in downtown Lillehammer, complete with a nisse parade, led by the Nisse Far, a small brass band, and a variety of festive oversized dancing animal heads, not unlike Chinese dragons. It was a brisk day, around 10F/-12C, for most of the day, but we were well prepared. The events at Maihaugen were scheduled both in and out of doors, and we stopped inside for several snack breaks throughout the day.

Julenisse spotted outdoors!

Lunching on grøt (rice porridge)

Our day began around 11:30am, with the Maihaugen parking lot already filled to capacity. We visited a few of the historic cabins, decorated to celebrate a 1700s Christmas and a 1890s Christmas, and then spotted a small gathering of julenisser among the rocks, where baby goats had been leaping only a few months earlier.  We then headed indoors for a quick lunch of risengrynsgrøt (rice porridge with butter, cinnamon, and sugar) and waffles. That sat pretty well with the kiddo, and if it hadn’t, the next event on the agenda would have improved any sour mood: pepperkaker baking (gingerbread cookies). A long table was filled with more children in hand-knit sweaters than I have ever seen, and the women running the event kept an efficient schedule of doling out chunks of dough, rolling pins, cookie cutters, onto a cookie sheet, into the oven, quickly cool on the racks, and into a little wax paper bag. Afterwards I thought we could likely skip that event next year, as making gingerbread cookies at home will be a far less hurried and thus more enjoyable event. But, I must admit that having that bag of cookies on hand was rather nice to have as the day progressed.

Cutting out pepperkaker cookies

The day at Maihaugen concluded with visits to the animals in the barn and a fair amount of time in the 1930s village where a number of artists were selling their wares. I had high hopes for the Christmas market, as some friends spoke very highly of it, but I was a little disappointed. New England had its fair share of “craft fairs” that my craft-minded friends and I dubbed instead “crap fairs”, and this market was not without its share of that (although a smaller share, to be fair). Still, Norwegians love their Christmas elves and decorating with hearts this time of year, two holiday themes I have not, and will not likely, entirely embrace. So, after one last snack to warm up our insides, we headed downtown for the Christmas parade.

Mmmm, waiting for the cookies to cool

We timed our arrival to Storgate well. The nisse parade was about to start, and we only had to wait a few minutes before a parade of body-less decorative horse-heads and people dressed in elf-like costumes came spinning and twirling down the street. They were followed by a throng of people, many of whom were carrying lit torches--even rather young children! Mixed into this throng of people was a small brass band playing Christmas carols--"Joy to the World", if my memory serves me correct. We followed the parade down the street to a large Christmas tree which seemed to be already lit upon our arrival. At that point, the two adults voted that we were hungry (while the lone child was nearly asleep) and it was time to ditch the festivities and go get pizza. We believe the parade marched around downtown and lit two more Christmas trees, although I think it will be another year before we find out for certain. 


All in all, a fun-filled, exhausting day, and we all arrived home toasty warm.

Riding the tractor

Shopping in the 1930s village

Downtown Lillehammer in pre-parade excitement

The parade: a blur of people, lights,  and song

As if we needed an additional reminder that
we are living in a foreign country: small
children are trusted to carry flaming torches
in large crowds of people

The post-parade blur of people and lights.
Quite the festive scene!

Our own very tired (but warm!) nisse

Thanksgiving in Lillehammer

Happy Thanksgiving!

We managed to find a 5.9kg (about 12 lbs) turkey, I still had a can of pumpkin puree in the cupboard that survived the trip over the Atlantic, and we never were a big fan of cranberries, so Norwegian tyttebær was a good substitute for our first Thanksgiving as ex-pats. It was one of the first Thanksgivings that we've hosted in the 8 years we've been married. Nearly every Thanksgiving has been spent with the Blumberg family in Thetford, Vermont, whom I affectionately refer to as our "surrogate Jewish parents", as they are parents (and in-laws) to our dear friends who live in Alaska, we feel like we fill a void around the table, and, well, they're Jewish. And we're not, so it's funny and affectionate. Really!


THIS year we invited our new friends, whom I will call R&M, and their boys K&S, who are at Greta's barnehage. S. is in Greta's class, and K. is 5 years old, and in the oldest kids class. R&M have been so welcoming to us, inviting me to M's 40th birthday party, to a workout group of women each week, and similar invitations for Erik as well. R. even jumped my car Wednesday night, when the battery died at the barnehage, and said to me in very clear English, "that's what friends are for." So, we felt they were worthy of the invitation, and they were enthusiastic guests. 


We tried a number of new recipes, including stuffing the bird with dried fruits and nuts (delicious), and a tasty sweet potato recipe with raisins and walnuts as well. The turkey was basted with an orange flavored liquid, so we had a fruit theme to our meal. I made two apple pies and a pumpkin cheesecake, of which Erik brought one pie and the cheesecake to work today, as it was his day for Friday "treats". The pumpkin-flavored dessert was a new flavor for the Norwegians, and since they ate 3/4 of it, I think it was a hit.


And now a quick Top 10 Thankful List, in no particular order.


I am thankful. . . 
1. That our house in Vermont sold before we left the state.
2. That our cars sold before we left the country.
3. That our dog is alive after flying in the belly of a plane during a hot August in Minnesota.
4. That we have a comfortable, warm, cozy home, if only for a year.
5. That my husband* is talented enough and intelligent enough and persevered long enough that this idea of moving to Norway actually became reality! 
6. For technology that allows me to see my friends and family, and talk to them for pennies, if not for free.
7. For my family, who instead of crying "you're moving where?" said "This will be such a great adventure for you. When can we visit?"
8. For Tina Fey, who makes me giggle and proud to be a outspoken, liberal-minded woman in my (gulp) mid 30s with brown hair and the need for corrective lenses.
9. For my rosy-cheeked little daughter, who delights and amazes me every day. 
10. That I'll be starting a level-2 language class in January**. So then, even if the class moves slowly, at least I can blame someone else for not challenging me, versus now, when at the end of the day I've learned absolutely nothing, I only have myself to blame. 


Happy Thanksgiving!


*I'm thankful for Erik for many other reasons, too, but I opted to make it a Top 10 list.
**It's true! Just got the news today!

Happy (belated) Halloween!

Third and final year as a Pumpkin!

We weren't sure what to expect for Halloween this year in Norway. Some of the stores were selling pumpkin decorations and spooky costumes, but none of the bagged up candy that you find in the US. I didn't find actual real pumpkins until the day before Halloween, and then bought a half rotten one for about $15, although I'm not even sure why. 


Greta was invited to a Halloween party on Saturday the 30th by one of the boys at the barnehage. Or, let me re-word that. A boy at the barnehage was hosting a Halloween party, and all of the children were invited. We dug out Greta's costume from the last two years, and agreed that she could squeeze into it for one last year. She was pretty darn excited about it, as you can see in the picture. 


The party itself was an interesting experience. We arrived expecting a house full of kids and their parents, but instead found four 5- year old boys and one 5-year old girl, and the boy's parents. None of the 2-, 3-, or 4-year old class. And no other parents. So, we hung around the house for a few hours talking with the parents, while Greta mostly watched the boys run around changing costumes every few minutes.


Social situations like these are challenging. It's important for me to hear as much Norwegian as possible, and interactions like a small party or conversations are few and far between, so I don't usually ask that people speak English for my benefit. But I end up feeling very anti-social and submissive (not to mention confused), as I rely on Erik to hold up "our" end of the conversation and I just smile, furrow my eyebrows, and nod. 


But back to Halloween. We live 2.5km up a steep steep hill, probably 3km from the nearest neighborhood, so we had absolutely no expectation that we would see any trick or treaters. I drove through town around 6pm and saw three small groups of trick or treaters--maybe 8 kids total, but no obvious signs which houses were prepared to hand out treats. 


We may need to plan an annual trip back to the US over Halloween, so Greta can get a good healthy dose of Halloween American-style. However, that coincides with Election Day, and I must admit that I did not miss the election media coverage and the angst that usually accompanies it.