Some pictures from grandma

Today / All the good things

Today when walking to work, kicking the leaves at the sidewalk (it was yellow and orange and washed out–green) I put my mittens on the ground and threw the leaves high up in the air. They were raining down, like apples do.

I could see the yellow specks that were leaves at the bottom of the river. I threw a stone in and I couldn’t see them anymore.



When unpacking Christmas articles at work we found a beetle in one of the boxes, the size of my thumb. It had traveled all the way from Asia and was really quite dead.

I work ten or eight hours a day. I wear my uniform from before I leave home until I get back. That’s when I snuggle into my pyjamas, wearing it for the two or three hours left of the day. They are green and soft and lovely. It’s a sort of symbol of changing my place, changing mode. Work-Frøydis / home-Frøydis. When I wear my pyjamas I can be just as shy and quiet as I like. Then I eat. Then I write (and if I'm very lucky; read for a while).

Soundtrack: Autumn Leaves - Bill Evans

Puma med asfalt på de varme poter / Og han trækker vejret

 

Birthday mostly

My birthday came and went, and it did both in a quiet and discreet fashion. I went up to my grandmother for the weekend (not the same as mentioned before) along with my mother and aunt. We ate cinnamon buns, went for walks, and I wrote desperately on the “opening, or the first two chapters of a book for small children” (though nothing really came out of it). I like going up to grandma, the village she lives in is so small, and the big cold house seems to be in another time zone. Everything is flowing slowly and quietly. I like to think it’s so cold up there that the time freeze a bit, not enough to stop it entirely only just so it has another feel to it, another way of running through you.

For my birthday I got an electric screwdriver, an old Danish chauffeur’s hat, the complete works of William Shakespeare (an edition from 1951 that used to belong to my grandfather) and a lovely purple scarf.

Walking through the fields with the purple scarf, my new coat and an old skirt I felt very neat and almost pretty. The autumn is so beautiful up there, the curves of the black and brown fields and the orange-yellow of the trees, everything wrapped up in fog… I had to look away at times, just so I wouldn’t dissolve in the air.

On one of my walks I walked past a leek field. I’ve never thought of where leeks come from before, though it’s quite obvious that they grow in fields now I think of it.

Still ill

I can barely talk without coughing my stomach out, but at least my throat doesn’t hurt when I breathe anymore. And I’m very close to having a bed now. My room is full of bits and pieces of bed, because dad brought them to me on Sunday. Now if I could only get some screws…

I was at my parents’ house today and yesterday because a distant branch of our large and extremely complex family came on a visit all the way from Arizona (though they are Canadian). I didn’t really know about them until now, but they were very friendly and cheerful, and we had a huge dinner party at my grandmother’s and everything was pleasant and funny and cosy. And also, when leaving home I brought lots of apples from the garden, some home made jam and honey from the cellar, with me. I have food! (which is good because I bought a lovely winter coat and a red lipstick, so I think I have to live on oatmeal porridge for some time to come)

Otherwise (and more importantly) I should be writing the opening, or the first two chapters, of a book for small children. I’m supposed to hand it in in two weeks and I keep writing other stories instead. In addition I am a bit confused as to what is the difference between a picture book and a book for small children. Because it’s not the same, we won’t do the picture book until December.

Fish

I fried a herring on Friday. When it was defrosting I found out it still had its guts. Who sells a fish along with its guts? And it was all flabby. I still ate it, but I kept thinking that this might have been the reason it was so cheap, and I kept wondering why I didn’t see it when I bought it.

Now we're going watch Limelight because I borrowed it at the library yesterday.

Tea and Hairdye and Other Things

Finally the rain dives down on us, really pouring, and I can lie awake early in the morning, before the light, and listen to it while I slowly adjust to the new day.

Sometimes I write so much I can’t stop.

I saw an old couple today. They were standing under the same umbrella kissing. They looked so happy and I couldn’t help noticing that I didn’t feel anything. I always used to. So I jumped up and down in a huge puddle while they walked past me and away. Splash splash. There were little yellow leaves in it.

Rune and I bought supplies of tea for the coming of autumn, and later he gave me the best hug anyone has given me in ages. At Anne’s place I found some very chocolaty chocolate and I dyed my hair again. I’m still unsure as of why. It was after we had found the new park. We had gone for a walk and had turned some random and unknown corners, and there it was, complete with huge trees to climb and lots of - lay down in the - green grass (remember when you loved me). It even had an old church in one of the corners.

Mannen bak disken på Bare Jazz sa; ”Det der er sjeldne saker. Totalt selges det ca to Eddie Lang CD-er i året”. Jeg smilte forsiktig og gikk ut, for hva skal man vel si. Det er så fint der, jeg skal dra med meg mennesker dit snart snart.

En sak.

Alle var så stille og rare den kvelden. Vi hadde spist is med nonstop og banan og jeg spiste så mye at jeg ble kvalm. Ingen sa noe, det var stille som i en boble av tang og ensomhet. Jeg gjemte meg inne på badet fordi det var vanskelig å puste, slik det alltid blir i et lufttett rom.

Hvorfor krangler de?

Jeg satt på doskåla med knærne mot panna og skulle ønske jeg var et lite barn igjen, et menneske i miniatyrutgave, et uferdig vesen på vei mot erkjennelse og forråtnelse, i stedet for dette mellomrommet av alder som er ingenting og alt og midt i mellom.

Hvorfor later som om alt er greit etterpå?

Jeg satt der på doskåla, i full fart mot en tilværelse i opplyst fortielse, og kjente på hvordan jeg langsomt ble mindre og mindre, hvordan magen og ansiktet vrengte seg, og til slutt hvordan klærne falt av, ubrukelige hav av bomull og polyester. Gulvflisene var harde og kalde under meg og jeg lot hele verden ligge i en dam der på badet før jeg krøp med værhår, pels og hale ut under dørsprekken og forsvant.