The delights of summer

Yesterday, between rain showers, I ate my lunch outside at the tables in front of the coffee shop. I had prepared for myself a salad teeming with the bounty of summer produce. While I sat on the mostly dry chair at a table that was definitely wet, eating my salad that seemed to increase in size as I ate it, I thought of the rainy summers in Seattle.

Perhaps it is global warming or my shady memory, but I don't remember summers in Seattle being long stretches of sunshine. I remember the comfortable rain. Perhaps it is more closely related to my summer habits of retreating into the cool dark basement with a special blend of Ghiradelli dark chocolate chips and walnuts in a Tupperware cup that someday would be taken to the beach and used as a digging implement losing its pleasantly smooth edge and becoming forever relegated to the back of the cupboard. In the hours while my parents were at work, I would watch tv mindlessly - making sure to follow the complicated system of turning on fans and closing hatches and windows to preserve the valued coolness of our stone house.

It must have been hot. It must have been hot because we went swimming in the sun. We all thought that swimming in the rain was the best, but swimming in the sun was necessary. When the weather was hot on the weekends we would pile in the Falcon and drive to Tacoma. Nana and Grandpa Arne always had fabulously delicious food (the broccoli chicken bake, salmon, potato salad, sour cream and onion potato chips, real sandwiches, PIE, ice cream in a variety of flavors, waffles with homemade jam for breakfast). The rest of the family tended to show up. Who wouldn't come for good food, swimming, and laughter?

Grandpa Arne's pool was the perfect place to play and get wet. It was a little short for laps that were more than recreational and diving was not allowed, but those limitations were not particularly bothersome. We floated, played games we'd made up (like Fox and the Eggs), and did tricks (mostly headstands and sommersaults). We'd get out when our fingers and toes looked like the prunes Grandpa and Nana ate every night before going to sleep and there were streaks of teal randomly distrubuted across out bodies where we had bumped into the walls of the pool, the aging paint had come off on our skin.

Sitting at a sidewalk cafe outside an art gallery, eating a bottomless salad, I started thinking about food as art in five dimentions. The fourth and fifth are clearly taste and time, but which is which? According to convention it is time that is the fourth dimention. But isn't taste more important? But perhaps the time to grow the ingredients and select them are as important as the art of the perfect composition of flavors. Taking time to taste the variety of ingredients is critical to the success of the piece. It also creates ample time to remember the delights of summers past.

Yesterday's Salad:

Iceberg lettuce (in Norway it still has a little green color)
Cabbage
Arugula
Onion
Carrot
Tomato
Avocado
Kidney Beans
Feta (marinated in olive oil and herbs)
Red wine vinegar
Oil and herbs from the feta

Chop the things that are choppable and mix together. Enjoy with friends or memories.

Föllinge dagan

We arrived at our campground apartment. I unloaded my stuff, grabbed my fiddle and backpack and headed back toward the reception. Martha was waiting for me and we had a special treat coming our way.

First we walked to Vicki's cousin's apartment. Ester is very kindly letting Martha stay there for the weekend. We drank some water and lay on the floor, trying to cool off. At a quarter past nine, Martha called Mats Andersson. He had a meeting in town and he and his wife, Karin, were on their way to pick us up. We had been invited to spend the evening and the next day at their house!

We met them around the corner from Ester's apartment. Somehow, we managed to fit our instruments and overnight bags into the vehicle. We piled in and headed North to Föllinge.

The Anderssons live in a house that is just large enough for a family of seven. The five children range in age from almost 6 to 14. The two girls are the oldest. They have several chickens and a few rabbits. Right now. There was a horse for a while. One of the chickens is sitting on 13 eggs. Elise and Carolina tell us that they should hatch any day now. Mats is not so sure.

When we arrived, all of the children were still awake. We had some food and beer. I met the children (Elise, Caroline, Pär, Anders, and Olle). We talked for a while. When it was approaching midnight we were directed to the beds we would be using. I haven't sleep that soundly in a long time.

After breakfast, the fiddles came out. Something just feels right about sitting around an established fiddler's kitchen table, playing a few tunes, while his wonderful children dart in and out of the picture. We couldn't play too long though, we had a lunch date with the children. At the lake!

Again, everyone (except Karin and Olle) piled into the car. Martha says we headed east to the lake; I'll take her word for it. It took two trips in the row boat (motor powered) out to the sandbar to get everyone and everything there, but we made it. The weather was perfect. Hardly a cloud in the sky with a good breeze moving through.

Everybody swam. The water ranged from quite cold to just a little cold depending on where you went in, but it all felt great! Anders taught me how to skip rocks. Martha got a fishing lesson from Mats, no fish though. Mats used Scandinavia's greatest invention, the Engångsgrill (single use bbq grill that is perfect for just about anything), to cook us a delicious lunch of hamburgers and chicken sausages.

We managed to tear ourselves away from the beach before we got too fried. Two boat trips and a car ride later we were back at the house. I got a tour of the animals from Elise. I snuck up to the sewing room for a quick look at the dräkt Karin is working on right now. Then, back into the car and back to Östersund.

I am extremely grateful that I was included in the trip to Föllinge. I can't imagine a nicer way to have spent today! The whole Andersson family is great. I hope that I get to see them again some day, somewhere.

Hudiksvall III

Today we made our obligatory tour of downtown Hudiksvall (including stops at the library and the bank), but not before we went swimming in a lake near Tom's house. Okay, so Tom and I went swimming and Elaine watched us safely from the shore. I completely understand not wanting to have sand in uncomfortable places all day long, but it was delicious to jump into the icy water. I got out after about a minute of feeling like I was going to freeze, a nice feeling after all of the heat I have endured lately. I realized that I should stay in longer since the wind was blowing and the water wasn't that cold once you got used to it.

Back on land, I took a sort of miserable but upright shower and got dressed again then gleefully applied sunscreen having met my quota for vitamin D intake. I don't think I mention earlier, before I left Seattle I had some blood work done and unsurprisingly I have a very low level of vitamin D. Nicole (my rheumatologist) is recommending that I take some fairly considerable doses of supplements, but until I get a regular supply, it's ok for me to fulfill my requirements with 15-20 minutes of unprotected sunshine. Without burning, of course.

After swimming and our downtown errands, we just barely had time to get to a restaurant for the daily lunch special. Tom had a plan. Elaine and I were both clearly skeptical when we parked in a car dealership, but Tom knew what he was doing. We were too late for the special, but we had pan fried flounder and mashed potatoes with salad and coffee. Yum! They had really tasty little cookies, too - lots of butter.

Then we headed to an auction, Tom wanted to see if he could pick up some linen, but wound up with a bench instead. We didn't have time to stick around for the linen to come up for bid because we needed to get out to Trogstavallen. There we walked around for a bit, looked at several charming old buildings, one of which was in Tom's mothers family and got dinner. Tom and Elaine got dinner, I didn't need any more food just then, especially not Kolbollar which is bits of pork fried in pork fat and then pancake batter thrown in to hold the whole mess together.

We also met Tom's aunt, Gerd. She is a really charming woman. We spoke Norwegian as she had spent some time in Norway at folkehøgskole. It was easy to tell that she and Tom enjoy each others' company.

As I am writing these Tom and Elaine are practicing their dances with the local dance group and I am hoping that I get an opportunity to run through my dances. As far as these dancers go, they are lovely all around. All of them seem to be good dancers and are eager to help Tom and Elaine.