tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81006979321125066982024-03-05T18:53:08.886-08:00Wendie's widening worldTravels with David on the boat Stroemhella, having left the Netherlands in June 2011 and reached the west coast of Italy in September. Previous travels include: UK, France, Germany, Poland, Spain, Italy, Iran, Dubai, USA, Canada (actually, born there!) and the Netherlands, now a citizen therof!!Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.comBlogger341125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-72904017940677798952020-05-15T04:43:00.003-07:002020-05-15T04:45:15.941-07:00The Exiles' Return...<div>Following a good talk with our daughter and son-in-law, on whose hospitality we have been joyfully floating for almost three months (!!), we reached the decision to fly back to Amsterdam when flights resume direct from Norway to our home city.</div><div>So we've booked for June the First, to be met at Schiphol by our son Daniel; and will arrive hopefully on a sunny afternoon.</div><div>The world remains surreal ... friends and neighbours in Amsterdam send me photos and videos of a city that looks calm and tranquil. But one knows that death lurks unseen ... that is not being melodramatic, just how it is. <br /></div><div>My older friends (the over 70s) remain inside and I guess that's what we'll need to do in the beginning. Hard to realize, though, that apparently covid-19 will remain with us many months, and probably forever. So many activities have to be readjusted ... So I'll just have to explore all the opportunities presented by lockdown: and delight in my back garden (lucky to have one). And discover new recipes...</div><div>There's going to be a great deal of acquiring information via the internet. <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Well, we have prepared our nose-masks (!) and plenty of hand-sanitizer, and take home a wealth of stunning photos and sufficient memorable conversations to last us many months.</div><div>One of my favourite lines was coined by Christiaan, when we were enacting the early years of Hedy Lamarr, during her marriage to an Austrian industrialist. The famous line, to be spoken with German accent, and thereafter quoted frequently by some of the Van der Eijk family, was:</div><div><i>Hedwig, vy haf you not ironed my lederhosen</i>? Followed by: <i>Hedwig</i>: <i>Vair is mein sauerkraut vor supper?</i></div><div>This produced great hilarity. Hedy was one of the Women Inventors in a book I'd given Rachel at Christmas. Next favourite was Rachel Carson. <span class="st">Described as, "Perhaps the finest nature writer of the Twentieth Century (1907-<wbr></wbr>1964)"; our Rachel liked the fact that this great lady bore the same name as her. But was also fascinated by her work. Very discriminating granddaughter!</span></div><div><span class="st">And now, back to knitting a pixie-hood for Rachel, following her precise instructions, colour pink...</span></div><div><span class="st"><br /></span></div><div><span class="st">Below: although taken a few years ago, this is still how we are: travelling on!!<br /></span></div><div><span class="st"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEvQHSoJz9E22-xGYL3Fh3F7FfXxlMtZp3GxChOtxg7c_muTl4Km6knzLqlhVf0yKon0n_hjmXm5HujC63pCTisCDE7opZRLWfKwQIvlqQTk-H4aYw4vrC8WfUWOnk95HM_KdFDlX0rPc/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2000" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEvQHSoJz9E22-xGYL3Fh3F7FfXxlMtZp3GxChOtxg7c_muTl4Km6knzLqlhVf0yKon0n_hjmXm5HujC63pCTisCDE7opZRLWfKwQIvlqQTk-H4aYw4vrC8WfUWOnk95HM_KdFDlX0rPc/s320/DSC06064.jpg" width="262" /></a></div><span class="st"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-74203955960110254072020-05-14T05:49:00.001-07:002020-05-14T05:52:28.783-07:00Letter for IngridThis is what I wrote in the Guest Book in Ingrid's hytte.<br />FOR INGRID<br /><br />May 1 to May 10, 2020. <br />And the sun shone every day. We arrived on May Day (public holiday in Norway) in retreat from the covid-19 pandemic, now overtaking the world. We were lucky to be staying with our family in Stavenger when European borders began to close.<br />Midway through our family stay, so as not to overburden them with our presence for too long, we booked Ingrid's hytte for 10 days at the beginning of May.<br />We had not anticipated that it would be the most perfect place to “retreat” to, while much of the world trembled in fear and perturbation! <br />No radio, no TV, no internet, no phone…<br />Sweet quiet, have I found thee here<br />And Solitude, thy sister dear ? (I misquote from Andrew Marvell, The Garden).<br /><br />Spring unleafs, green graces the hillsides, the lambkins struggle into life, and start to suck enthusiastically, tails wiggling ecstatically.<br />We go for walks, over the bumpy ground, or steepish slopes, or beside the shimmering lakes. Only the sound of the birds and the soughing wind.<br />Each day is different. Inside me, deep silence grows.<br /><br />David and I recall our long years together, rejoice in all that we have shared, remember and discover things about each other, check our boundaries, laugh at our trespassing, give thanks that we found each other when we did (that was our dear son Daniel’s doing). <br />I sing, David works on his book dealing with pandiagonal magic squares (now on Chapter Nine), I cook and bake bread, knit garments for the dolls of my granddaughter Rachel (what else, as my friend Jenny remarks, should a Granny do?!)… and we gaze out at the greening trees, lift up our eyes to the hills and watch the clouds’ soft passage across the sky…<br /><br />Peace reigns. We heard a cuckoo call. We saw some tiny violets, deep purple. <br />This is a forever place.<br />We wish there were more people like Ingrid.<br />We would love to be here again.<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-49852897511165840682020-05-12T06:28:00.001-07:002020-05-12T06:28:28.038-07:00Last days in Eigesund
<div class="page" title="Page 1">
<div class="section" style="background-color: rgb(100.000000%, 100.000000%, 100.000000%);">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p><span style="font-family: 'HelveticaNeue'; font-size: 14.000000pt;">Blog: last days in Eigesund
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: 'HelveticaNeue'; font-size: 14.000000pt;">All hurrying and hastening, scurrying and whimpering, swept into another
place, into a hidden cupboard! No longer needed or heeded. (I’m having fun
playing with words here, but what has happened in fact is that a great
quietness has filled me and the dancing words inside my head have settled
down ...)
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: 'HelveticaNeue'; font-size: 14.000000pt;">Evening: I sit beside the window, outside the sky grows silvery pale, the birds
tweet intermittently, the wind has dropped. This afternoon on our walk we
heard a cuckoo, loud and clear, a brash call. Six times repeated, then no
more. Later I saw, tiny beside the pathway, three violets, glowing in rich
colour. Haven’t seen any for years. I stopped and gazed, and remembered
Luther, who (recalling my A-level History and Bainton’s </span><span style="font-family: 'HelveticaNeue'; font-size: 14.000000pt; font-style: italic;">Here I stand</span><span style="font-family: 'HelveticaNeue'; font-size: 14.000000pt;">,
biography of friend Martin) apparently wept over a violet frozen in the snow.
Top marks for Luther, I told David. We went on to discuss the 95 theses on
the church door of Wittenberg, the Protestant Reformation and the Counter
Reformation, and the Council of Trent. This was all quite strenuous, but
enjoyable.
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: 'HelveticaNeue'; font-size: 14.000000pt;">It would be too boring to recount our meals, but I have to say, they are
excellent. Almost Vegan, varied and colourful, a pleasure to behold and to
consume!! Happily, we both enjoy cooking, and something I love to do is
bake bread: there is a timeless quality that hovers over the activity of
kneading dough. I always knead for at least ten minutes, singing or reciting
poetry. This unquestionably contributes to the final result. I have been baking
the loaves here in a hot-air oven but tomorrow plan to heat top and bottom
and see if this will produce a more crispy result...
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: 'HelveticaNeue'; font-size: 14.000000pt;">Now it is almost ten p.m. Still light enough to read.
David and I have been wondering about travelling
up to the far north of Norway (memories of </span><span style="font-family: 'HelveticaNeue'; font-size: 14.000000pt; font-style: italic;">Nooit
meer slapen</span><span style="font-family: 'HelveticaNeue'; font-size: 14.000000pt;">, Hermans’s novel of which I translated
part, many years ago...) to the land where it stays
bright till midnight. It’s very appealing and we’ll
probably never get the chance again... Something
to be discussed on our return to Stavanger.
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: 'HelveticaNeue'; font-size: 14.000000pt;">I heard that schools in Norway may be re-opened
next week. The lockdown is easing here. After
these days away we’ve half lost touch with the
pandemic news. But all too soon we’ll need to
consider our next move.
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: 'HelveticaNeue'; font-size: 14.000000pt;">For now, I rejoice in the airy laciness of the trees,
the viridian of the young leaves (soon to darken)
and the air so clean and fresh, every time we go
outside I want to gulp great draughts of it ...
before returning to the city.
</span></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiIWxH94TvPBgJJfd8729QrwDMvyxizoiyU-Fro3mOxENR1MQISxXmyp4qwI1NTBJ1i1XNLLEPPs6e_HrXV7Qz-u3UW7fwcMxIXQBCRrYlARyWftKZz-pBdDeD-jFlXo-i8n5EYIZZLXc/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3184" data-original-width="2388" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiIWxH94TvPBgJJfd8729QrwDMvyxizoiyU-Fro3mOxENR1MQISxXmyp4qwI1NTBJ1i1XNLLEPPs6e_HrXV7Qz-u3UW7fwcMxIXQBCRrYlARyWftKZz-pBdDeD-jFlXo-i8n5EYIZZLXc/s320/IMG_6154.jpg" /></a></div>Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-88992776675452545352020-05-11T11:16:00.001-07:002020-05-11T11:23:41.027-07:00May 4 to 7, 2020, NorwayMonday 4 to Thursday 7 May<br /><br />Compounding days<br /><br />The silence grows. After the weekend visitors went home, we had this world to ourselves once more. Silent walks along the scrunching gravel paths or across a strip of mossy ground. Lots of lambs to talk to. Some even pause to listen…<br />We meet Ingrid, the owner of our hytte. She is Dutch by birth, but has lived in different lands: Belgium, England, Scotland and now Norway. Her home is in Stavanger. She’s a geo-physicist and a member of the Green party (we have lots in common!). Long talks about how to reorganize society, restructure the economy and educate the politicians… At this point I wish I were younger and had a body somewhat more supple… But can’t complain. My own fault for not doing my exercises more faithfully.<br />Which leads me on to my contemplation on faith and trust. <br />On one of these days David went for a climb on his own. Before he set off I felt scared (what if something happened to him… no means of communicating…)<br />But I was busy reading the story of Daniel (not my son, but the one who chatted with lions) and soon became so engrossed in it that all my fears left me. Before I had time to start worrying, David was back (two hours later…).<br />So what happened to Daniel in that lions’ den? Was he still a vegetarian, and just didn’t appeal to meat-needy lions? It’s a wonderful book. And it’s about trust and faith. Which I definitely need to cultivate, instead of clamouring: What if…? Like now, with this covid-19. The big question: what if I, or David, or anyone I love, becomes infected? No knowing, no telling.<br />The silence grows. The peace spreads. The clamorous words that dance inside my head are almost quieted. <br />On 15 April I wrote this (for the record!) : <br /><br />One of the poem-songs we translated as undergraduates, sixty years ago,<br />was from the Harley Lyrics (thin green hardbacked book), a collection of Middle English verse.<br />Lenten is cume with luve to toune <br />With blosmen ant with briddes rune<br />That al this blysse bringeth…<br />Today, in a grey northern spring, those words return to me,<br />and I wonder if spring will ever again <br />bring all this bliss to the dwellings of men.<br />I should be in my house in Amsterdam; instead<br />most marvellously, I am here in troll country <br />with my dear family, and fairly safe.<br />While war is waging in our world. <br /><br />After finishing Daniel, I read Jonah. Tweak these books just a little, and out comes the 21st century, with the despots, tyrants, schemers and manipulators. <br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-27289244277440462322020-05-11T11:14:00.001-07:002020-05-11T11:14:20.355-07:00May Day 2020, in NorwayMay Day, 2020<br /><br />Set off around 10:30, driving along the road to Egersund, in the Norwegian province of Rogaland.<br />It is a national holiday, and apparently an excuse for all the owners of motorbikes in Norway to ride them triumphantly along the winding coastal roads of Rogaland … who knows where they were off to … People bunched along the roadside, the children waving small Norwegian flags. And the sun shone.<br />We — that is, David and I plus daughter and her family (seven of us packed into the car, together with baggage and food supplies for the coming week) — also wound slowly along, at first following the rocky coast, then into foothills filled with huge irregular-shaped boulders. Unquestionably troll country. <br />We have booked a log cabin, in Norwegian a hytte, advertised as “remote from civilization”! It is. No wifi, no internet, no telephone connection, no TV. Wonderful.<br />Outside the sound of a rushing brook and the birdsong we have grown accustomed to in Stavanger. And on our first walk we hear the insistent (intrusive?) call of a cuckoo.<br />On the drive up to our cabin we saw many newly-born lambs, <i>huppeling</i> (lovely Dutch word) after their mothers, tails wiggling in delight and they sucked milk from her, then gambolled off. They cannot walk (yet), they skip and bounce. Newborn lambs one of the most joyous sights I know; many memories and associations…<br />We sat in the sunshine on the ?deck, ?balcony ?terrace, blessed by the warmth, enjoying our simple picnic lunch. The children played hide-and-seek in the surrounding woods, which offered countless excellent hiding places. Then the three adults (except me !) went for an enthusiastic uphill walk, while I unpacked the various containers of food we’ve brought, intended to last us for ten days. I think we’ve gauged it about right: we’ll see.<br />After tea, the family departed, leaving us to the silence of the trees. More unpacking of clothes and stuff, and warming of our bedroom with excellent electric fire. We tried to light the log stove in the living room, but alas the paper and kindling were damp and only a sad white smoke was achieved!!<br />Better tomorrow, when we will have dried things out. It seems no one has been in the house this year. Because of the covid-19 pandemic, many owners have not been allowed to rent their houses. But this weekend is the first when the Norwegian government has relaxed some of the rules about “social distancing” and how many people may gather together. Each European country is following its own path, there are differing theories about this virus and how it behaves. It does make fascinating reading, although I could wish the main issue were not how to avoid death… <br />Men fear death as children fear to go in the dark, said another of those wise English Elizabethans. Francis Bacon? Was he an Elizabethan, or earlier? Ah, now I notice the usefulness of rapid internet connection. Since we don’t have it up here in the hytte, we can’t find quick online answers; no memory chalet for us (thinking of Tony Judt’s exquisite final writing).<br />But, after all, the idea in coming here was to retreat. To listen to the wind in the trees, the bleating of the lambs, the fresh liquid birdsong, and the various sounds of water. And the still, small voice that I have learned to recognize, though all too often blotted out by the many cries and crashes that fill my every day. <br /><br />The first evening was cold in the hytte. We went to bed as it was dusking outside (this is Norway of the long summer nights).<br />Just remembered the menu: made one of my sustaining and substantial vegetable soups. Delicious. And drew up a a list of days’ menus for the rest of the time we’re here, planning and balancing according to our supplies. Should all work out just fine. <br />No owls to be heard… A half moon in the clear night sky.<br /><br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-23470320815828330032020-04-30T07:10:00.002-07:002020-04-30T07:10:23.933-07:00Definitely not the cruellest month...Stavanger, Thursday 30 April<br />
<br />
Not a cruel month, as T.S. Eliot pronounced in melancholic mood. Here in southern Norway it bred starry-petalled wood anemones out of the leaf-thick ground, and shining golden lesser-celandine. At first the anemones were white, rolling across the sloping woodland floor like scattered stars. After a few weeks there followed the delicate mauve variety (my grandson called them "lavender"). Day by day the dry twigs grew fatter, then softly uncurled, willow and hazel, and then the blossom unbudded: wild plum, blackthorn, pear and wild cherry. I have lots of photos recording this wonder. Never before have I had the time (or place) to observe Spring's soft unfolding, day by day, like this. <br />
So, although for many this April is, alas, the cruellest month (yes, I read the daily obituaries published on my laptop) I spend a lot of time pondering on the intangible. Death and resurrection. Indeed, a mystery. I suspect I will never find the words to express my hope and my certainty. <span class="st"><i>The tongue cannot speak nor the ear hear nor</i> <i>the eye see nor the heart imagine. </i>Metaphysical meditations...<br /><i></i></span><br />
<span class="st">On Wednesday evenings I join the Skype link to a group from the English Reformed church in Amsterdam (also know as the Begijnhof church), and together we read from the Bible, exchanging ideas, swapping insights. We are, not surprisingly, now reading from the book of Acts, which describes events in Jerusalem immediately after the death of Jesus. The minister (pastor) acts as "guide" and shows us links to other passages in the Bible and invites us all to comment and respond. It's a very democratic (good word!) gathering; I am always learning more. Really, I am so happy to have studied the things I have, so that now I find I can appreciate what 50 years ago was still puzzling to me. This is an encouragement to those who feel they are a little young!</span><br />
<span class="st">Which reminds me: on one of my walks around the little lake here, I heard young voices singing from a nearby hillock, and turning to look I saw two little girls (reminded me of my granddaughters) standing on a small grassy knoll and imitating windmills with their arms, whilst they sang, over and over again:</span><br />
<span class="st"><i>We are the world, we are the children...</i></span><br />
<span class="st">I waved to them and they waved back. And went on singing.</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /><i></i></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_grmvL9yg7XV4noVg1vxSvvxtpx9-H4Jk7z7l0uI1_Y0d45ldRRutyPhMHYnMcujUwdhnuGcbxDpZVKq3koOyVLc-1Sv9EccMSBbc_pP-vuuxLjYsrfhMSq2-NteVgIrDogAlXELa_O8/s1600/Corsica+12-07015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="1600" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_grmvL9yg7XV4noVg1vxSvvxtpx9-H4Jk7z7l0uI1_Y0d45ldRRutyPhMHYnMcujUwdhnuGcbxDpZVKq3koOyVLc-1Sv9EccMSBbc_pP-vuuxLjYsrfhMSq2-NteVgIrDogAlXELa_O8/s320/Corsica+12-07015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Here is David (I trimmed his hair last week, quite pleased with the result! He ponders on the eternal nature of numbers, i.e. his book on Magic Squares).<br />
<br />
I still haven't re-discovered the method I was using a year ago, to transfer my pix onto this blog, but I'm confident time will unfold all, ha ha.<br />
Tomorrow all seven of us set off, heavily laden with boxes of food, to deposit David and me in a <i>hytte</i> (Norwegian for log cabin usually built from pinewood) far from civilization. There, with only the company of trees and small glacial lakes, we shall go for healthy walks in the adjoining nature reserve, listening to the birdsong and the wind in the branches of the firs.<br />
No intrusion from the outside world, no whisperings of developments concerning the latest onslaughts of the coronavirus.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFFUtnJUEhCinoADasYdJf5t2kNjJX-iC-sZ81o7iXWEVGpAm3E85hEhEcZguwabBa1XsEHTRk4Y2gNEOKQGd4nxuErIuezH60qHiBvpDh1YuJZzAwnyQOAABUIpFP_SU90kaqEiTmwk/s1600/IMGP9050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFFUtnJUEhCinoADasYdJf5t2kNjJX-iC-sZ81o7iXWEVGpAm3E85hEhEcZguwabBa1XsEHTRk4Y2gNEOKQGd4nxuErIuezH60qHiBvpDh1YuJZzAwnyQOAABUIpFP_SU90kaqEiTmwk/s320/IMGP9050.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
This is Vreni and me, a couple of years ago, on Zurich station, where we again met briefly this year in mid February. We haven't changed very much!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<span class="st"><br /><i></i></span>Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-9201366611671688602020-04-28T09:42:00.001-07:002020-04-28T09:43:32.430-07:00Spring in Stavanger, Norway<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">And now in age, I bud again;</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">After so many deaths, I live and write.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">I once more smell the dew and rain</span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><i>And relish versing...</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><i>(George Herbert, 1633) </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Stavanger, 28 April 2020 </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">It is morning.</span><span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> The waters of the lake are smooth.</span><span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> No wind blows.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Birdsong bursts into the still air.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Time to get up. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">We came here on 5 March, a visit to stay with our daughter and family, already arranged in 2019, before any whisper of a pandemic. We came prepared for four weeks and have been here now for eight. As we arrived, European borders continued to close. Being Dutch citizens, we could have returned to Amsterdam, via a circuitous route, but almost all our friends and family urged us to stay in the relative safety of southwest Norway. So we did, and adapted to a different style of living.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">The house is large, space enough for the seven of us; the back garden runs down to a lake, Little Stoka, and it became a daily delight for David and me to walk round this lake, watching spring life return to the bare branches. I have a wonderful time taking photos.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Each day, provided it's not pouring with rain, we amble and stride (alternately!) along the path that climbs and dips through the wooded country surrounding our "borrowed" home.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I think of the Portuguese word <i>saudade</i>: the longing, the nostalgic melancholia, for a place, or a face, that one misses, and may never see again. Because, never before have I been so aware of the transience of life. Although no one I know well has died from the effects of covid-19, the daily published lists tell me that thousands have. <i>Lo, in our life we are in the midst of death.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And Easter has come and gone while we were living in lock-down, and there were few to share the shout: "Christ is risen, he is risen indeed", although life was unlocking the leaves and spreading the shining six-petalled faces of white wood anemones and glittering lesser celandine in great swathes between the tangled tree roots. Glorious beneath the uncurling tips of branches and beside the uncurling fronds of ferns.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well, I have taken many beautiful photos as we wandered along these wooded ways, but of course, not being a great laptop hero (!!) I can't remember how to transfer them to this blog. Which is a pity. I will try just one, and inquire from some of the younger generation around here, who will doubtless be able to help me instantaneously! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I meditate on time and age, and listen to the wind.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-86113190226995447822019-06-07T12:48:00.000-07:002019-06-07T12:48:16.014-07:00June in BrittanyWe are sailing home ... or something like that.<br />
Left the river Vilaine, and David sailed to Lorient, south Brittany, where I joined him, together with our dear friends Samir and Souaad. Some happy days sailing to Brest, where we changed crew. Lots of lovely sunsets!<br />
Then we changed languages too, Italian took over from French, and pasta triumphed as our staple.<br />
Moored off the island of Ushant (Ouessant) waiting for friendly winds... and soaking in the tremendous quiet...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiuxs29SEnKPbIiRBXG370bEk8JX8TS1-r76upS7uHL38fzOrUsa9Qu_htkZmtdJoQ5k-CgN3T_H6yP1_8PIXh1rJ9iGYWiL2lMixyLexIvcsAxHAEq8RwNjf6wiKKh7O1nQp8BdBGoD0/s1600/IMG_3841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiuxs29SEnKPbIiRBXG370bEk8JX8TS1-r76upS7uHL38fzOrUsa9Qu_htkZmtdJoQ5k-CgN3T_H6yP1_8PIXh1rJ9iGYWiL2lMixyLexIvcsAxHAEq8RwNjf6wiKKh7O1nQp8BdBGoD0/s640/IMG_3841.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6K6DdCbCTCQ2kR6cTSU5IkfLpDPhoAHV4c7scptspl5wGpZXD5ow7N0ci8DOu3s9HmEVNPF92aZgWzBevLK_BR2U4R-krmdBhY6OrdaN9BiL-mA80B0-Lj0y-LmiGM4htvupz2O9htyw/s1600/IMG_3840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6K6DdCbCTCQ2kR6cTSU5IkfLpDPhoAHV4c7scptspl5wGpZXD5ow7N0ci8DOu3s9HmEVNPF92aZgWzBevLK_BR2U4R-krmdBhY6OrdaN9BiL-mA80B0-Lj0y-LmiGM4htvupz2O9htyw/s320/IMG_3840.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Sea like liquid silver, says Tilla my niece.Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-39159481754142225082019-05-20T03:59:00.000-07:002019-06-07T12:36:09.511-07:00Back on Stroemhella...<i>Still travelling.</i><br />
<i>much happening.</i><br />
<i>Friends dying</i><br />
<i>empty spaces </i><br />
<i>forgotten places</i><br />
<i>But always sun returning</i><br />
<i>new faces </i><br />
<br />
<i>Remembering remembering</i><br />
<br />
Below: David on <i>Stroemhella</i> in the marina at St Malo, Brittany<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT3hyphenhyphenKMD060a35csE3LeJ0mo0GU6XvPT_CCuzFgtrXAjfojxnmAB4y2TVu96VJSdFSIzrAhrPqS1uVbsz6QGEKUUZeEP9tq3l1MCRNFml2p9nsp5LN_SXwSQQkSY9F76A91l7Z-lcThaY/s1600/IMG_3942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT3hyphenhyphenKMD060a35csE3LeJ0mo0GU6XvPT_CCuzFgtrXAjfojxnmAB4y2TVu96VJSdFSIzrAhrPqS1uVbsz6QGEKUUZeEP9tq3l1MCRNFml2p9nsp5LN_SXwSQQkSY9F76A91l7Z-lcThaY/s640/IMG_3942.jpg" width="640" /></a></i></div>
Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-25405333491049838452019-04-03T04:24:00.000-07:002019-04-03T04:29:05.862-07:00From the silent mountains In Norway visiting family and friends! Snow sparkling in the sun. Or mist swelling up the valleys. Or hail spitting down upon the wooden chalet where we spent a weekend, and when possible drove up to the ski slopes...<br />
Here you see Christiaan in ski gear, preparing himself a hot-dog, barb-a-q tucked into the snow behind him, and family gathered round. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KJrCtWga9WCFUPztGP5I7Vmls7zA2EPf0IriprkVlCYwsRDjFhajgtCqn8beEQcXPs7Ho1_sxmuhYV4LbOhUbzetlOmhgN3Ko95Nxy17-2I4e-xAWkLsJnwkKj3nt1XuBoUxkhmKTvA/s1600/IMG_3295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KJrCtWga9WCFUPztGP5I7Vmls7zA2EPf0IriprkVlCYwsRDjFhajgtCqn8beEQcXPs7Ho1_sxmuhYV4LbOhUbzetlOmhgN3Ko95Nxy17-2I4e-xAWkLsJnwkKj3nt1XuBoUxkhmKTvA/s640/IMG_3295.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
I didn't even try skiing, since I have a (no one quite sure of diagnosis) badly bruised left knee which continues to be painful when walking. Fortunatley nothing broken. Time will heal, as it does everything...<br />
Anyway, I am very happy here, imbibing wonderfully fresh air (does one imbibe air??) and greatly enjoying the extreme quiet that pervades here in Nedre Stokka (Stavanger).<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdY66rsddIQh6sKD0Vfk3d4Vcve8nV2Dl3h1TJH12k1OJVZsnzFd-OFAB7RVbZ7sgkR5tkn9YU-nlEQ2rbmvh6y7hNHHIGtgtGOeHT2GQangqR1LIEAUCAGdYpQgY6q82KOQfQ3cfZFg/s1600/IMG_3286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdY66rsddIQh6sKD0Vfk3d4Vcve8nV2Dl3h1TJH12k1OJVZsnzFd-OFAB7RVbZ7sgkR5tkn9YU-nlEQ2rbmvh6y7hNHHIGtgtGOeHT2GQangqR1LIEAUCAGdYpQgY6q82KOQfQ3cfZFg/s640/IMG_3286.jpg" width="480" /></a>Beside and below, two scenes from the enchanted spot in Saida, north of Stavanger (about the same latitude as Bergen, but then inland).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvIX41v4SsZK7rUo3Mx6ApY-sWYAOZwYNBLkU9QIN9OKvEhC5r6JGpsYdKHPGaKkNSXejsg-G555fDRmFlWdj_DTnRHwNHuGExFBpZWrfz3U8ybH_W7qdQSJT5MtkICQLFXgR_MmImw7w/s1600/IMG_3270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1144" data-original-width="1600" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvIX41v4SsZK7rUo3Mx6ApY-sWYAOZwYNBLkU9QIN9OKvEhC5r6JGpsYdKHPGaKkNSXejsg-G555fDRmFlWdj_DTnRHwNHuGExFBpZWrfz3U8ybH_W7qdQSJT5MtkICQLFXgR_MmImw7w/s640/IMG_3270.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
The roofs of the chalets have turf growing on them, a form of insulation. It can be very wet and cold. Below a typical photo taken through our windscreen, driving on the way up. Yes, very wet.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKNpk7iiInStgl6hgDOhfr6liS2vDk6xCdEVuQ9ziD7Vb1o-7rgVSDyKdCdmQpxw-KbazRdChDo36-YwbiUbPqgqddOD2IcXgVNqNuw-asRSFqtDoeWcRN4iLHW6rpY9MuO_DVeS4H80/s1600/IMG_3262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKNpk7iiInStgl6hgDOhfr6liS2vDk6xCdEVuQ9ziD7Vb1o-7rgVSDyKdCdmQpxw-KbazRdChDo36-YwbiUbPqgqddOD2IcXgVNqNuw-asRSFqtDoeWcRN4iLHW6rpY9MuO_DVeS4H80/s640/IMG_3262.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
But the drive back home to Stavanger, on Sunday afternoon, clocks just moved forward so an extra hour of sunlight, was sheer beauty. Along winding narrow roads, bordered by sheer deeply-cracked rock faces which often gleamed wet in the sunlight, resembling freshly-cut coal, or beside the still waters of an endless fjord.<br />
<br />
During the day, here at home in Nedre Stokka, Stavanger, silence prevails. I shake off the problems of Brexit and property developers in Amsterdam, concerned with making as much profit as possible. What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world? <i>And lose his soul</i>. Is how the verse continues. But Shakespeare understood the seduced human heart, and in his final play, <i>The Tempest</i>, one of the "baddies" speaks the memorable words: <i>My soul? That is a deity I think not on</i>. So there you go. But as you know, I do think on it! Back to the Metaphysical poets. Or, here's a poem I wrote in 2011, in beautiful Tuscany, central Italy<br />
<br />
<b>Returning to Italy, summer 2011</b><br />
<br />
1. This is like coming home:<br />
harvesting the good memories<br />
of sunlight filtered through green leaves<br />
of sweet silence after rich conversation<br />
of the kindly night, warm and soft<br />
through which the crickets send their scratchy song<br />
under the pale half-moon.<br />
<br />
2. To paint an Italian landscape<br />
<br />
High high on a Tuscan hilltop<br />
before me the intricate landscape<br />
spreads to the mauve horizon<br />
midday stillness<br />
the small lizards scuttle into private cracks<br />
between hot bricks.<br />
From an unlocated source,<br />
softly into the full stone tank<br />
the unimportant water falls and falls.<br />
Birds are silent.<br />
Silver-grey of the olive groves<br />
bright green of the fig trees, dark green of the pointed cypresses,<br />
and the distant vineyards thin hairs of purple-green<br />
combed out across the slopes<br />
curving above Poggibonsi, Cinciano, Val d’Elsa.<br />
Square campanile, like fingers of remembrance,<br />
mark every distant peak.<br />
Receding into purple haze, range upon range of hills<br />
each fainter than the former. <br />
Such sturdy quietness, such golden radiance.<br />
<br />
Everywhere the white dust penetrates<br />
gently blowing, impertinently present<br />
a dry powdering upon the greens and golds,<br />
muting the sunflowers and the terracotta roofs,<br />
a reminder…<br />
<br />
3. To paint the memory<br />
<br />
Words surge unfailing, process across my stage,<br />
bow, turn cartwheels, grimace, giggle,<br />
begging to be selected, in order to survive.<br />
Some of them old, wobbly, raggèd and patched and worn:<br />
will have to be dismissed.<br />
But the old may be polished stones<br />
can be fitted into new patterns<br />
re-arranged and threaded into surprising forms.<br />
Fallibility fades, reassurance remains.<br />
Voices of those I love<br />
the words forever remembered<br />
on and on and on into the silence<br />
<br />
Greetings from the Norwegian woods.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-89422886714945045642019-03-14T14:26:00.002-07:002019-03-14T14:26:28.580-07:00Wild winds, polluted seasToday I left the boat, in favour of dry land. A month of urban busy-ness lies ahead... But also some time in the beauties of the Norwegian winter landscape. <br />
Here is David closing the hatches, as it were...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPdDJyba_GS5_aHzEFoEGUMTYI43weNPed84cm3iPng7tJIex4Uk2oV7_zDBm1io904LDckbtX3gctAI5L-8FOXnSOHOXcpXjghRPnqt5-JDukgDq2YTN3xG9wQjYmqZYatlk9ALRJMg/s1600/IMG_3192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1162" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPdDJyba_GS5_aHzEFoEGUMTYI43weNPed84cm3iPng7tJIex4Uk2oV7_zDBm1io904LDckbtX3gctAI5L-8FOXnSOHOXcpXjghRPnqt5-JDukgDq2YTN3xG9wQjYmqZYatlk9ALRJMg/s640/IMG_3192.jpg" width="464" /></a></div>
<br />
The wind is whirling the leaves and pushing people as they hurry along. We make it to Vannes, only to find there are two hotels with the same name, and I'd reserved a room in the wrong one!<br />
Happily, the first hotel kindly cancelled the booking and I was given a room in the one we wanted (same name, part of a chain: hence the confusion!). So now we're housed in the Hotel Ibis opposite the railway station in Vannes, whence we depart on Saturday morning.<br />
<br />
I spent a quiet restful day, watching the French TV and feeling extremely glad I don't have one at home.<br />
Full of bad, sad news about events one can do nothing to affect or alter. Like Brexit.<br />
<br />
But here's a photo of the robin who sang so gloriously every day at dawn ... and through the long afternoons.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfRbX1F5heSHfjWailtw_lXQ5gz7VAJgggWjoL8pVi5Per6ngqn3OZtVi2jY2u_vpUgR95a-NcWCQ89lvtgWlM0UeOrnlUiPYYaK4oR-dr-1losRJVfJPvBvIjf8XQ560zKfZopwo_gQ/s1600/IMG_3187.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1554" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfRbX1F5heSHfjWailtw_lXQ5gz7VAJgggWjoL8pVi5Per6ngqn3OZtVi2jY2u_vpUgR95a-NcWCQ89lvtgWlM0UeOrnlUiPYYaK4oR-dr-1losRJVfJPvBvIjf8XQ560zKfZopwo_gQ/s640/IMG_3187.jpg" width="620" /></a></div>
Filling the air with rapture. <br />
And often on an evening walk along the riverside, this was how it looked: <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigw4cjnWNAkKlvfyLWzAvFmWGESHBBOEf2sr8JleNS0wQ5oCDnLP9zozJhXnzoYC0frEn1S9tqwEc_zKHHZWE00O7a7GDUQMqjf5Hbq0XOkaGUHNJtcZ-SLVK0tp798da6baDcA64BUR4/s1600/IMG_3189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigw4cjnWNAkKlvfyLWzAvFmWGESHBBOEf2sr8JleNS0wQ5oCDnLP9zozJhXnzoYC0frEn1S9tqwEc_zKHHZWE00O7a7GDUQMqjf5Hbq0XOkaGUHNJtcZ-SLVK0tp798da6baDcA64BUR4/s640/IMG_3189.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span id="goog_1070345039"></span><span id="goog_1070345040"></span>Or like this one below (I've made this one my screen-saver...).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigT0V40ux37Q_JIG3LpTK7bOWgCwfLSQjJBgZ3rabK40INFBHluLWHEgWRcl4oMuZraIglf6OIh7aL8Hm_FYYPQzQAfLEx7RWFl4_kaEiIJRyE_s0Dze90MuZZ-iGPP8r7OUIt5MsUjBM/s1600/IMG_2933.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1115" data-original-width="1600" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigT0V40ux37Q_JIG3LpTK7bOWgCwfLSQjJBgZ3rabK40INFBHluLWHEgWRcl4oMuZraIglf6OIh7aL8Hm_FYYPQzQAfLEx7RWFl4_kaEiIJRyE_s0Dze90MuZZ-iGPP8r7OUIt5MsUjBM/s640/IMG_2933.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Whatsoever things are lovely, think on these things...<br />
Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-10789618747307085282019-03-13T03:36:00.003-07:002019-03-13T03:38:36.457-07:00Still in BrittannyRural peace and dramatic seascapes while the British parliament (representatives of the Briitsh population, so they tell me) votes about Brexit (to stay or not to stay). The whole story is so degenerate (good word!) I refrain from further comment.<br />
<br />
I've been playing with my photos, here a couple of examples. Tomorrow I set off for Vannes, and thence back to Amsterdam. Two pix of David looking westwards towards the Atlantic...<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqG0SKijv64hNqEDMBeWiX8bYpJDkvrCi5vSX3dS706IEcr2ACPptMcOAcElTb3pTcQHb5D2hKmxNt8X3QJ_qy3GsXUzod9sGk7o1_yTHdqh4VGjAIe6nnGHKxyD8U9fvyKGcBaR6b4A/s1600/IMG_3159.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqG0SKijv64hNqEDMBeWiX8bYpJDkvrCi5vSX3dS706IEcr2ACPptMcOAcElTb3pTcQHb5D2hKmxNt8X3QJ_qy3GsXUzod9sGk7o1_yTHdqh4VGjAIe6nnGHKxyD8U9fvyKGcBaR6b4A/s320/IMG_3159.jpg" width="196" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAeA1IzEiFit-N_HTI65USsSVNE6eJZAQkxgQeMjQsP4py_KO4aB2Qg0G30sGV5OGsM0lEP7NVnGiMm36eTHApCcvDyjAfIX8Fpn2jAEr37ScRGnUe1jcD_wy16rzlfHOII6Ud7BGjm3o/s1600/IMG_3161.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAeA1IzEiFit-N_HTI65USsSVNE6eJZAQkxgQeMjQsP4py_KO4aB2Qg0G30sGV5OGsM0lEP7NVnGiMm36eTHApCcvDyjAfIX8Fpn2jAEr37ScRGnUe1jcD_wy16rzlfHOII6Ud7BGjm3o/s320/IMG_3161.jpg" width="210" /></a>Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-1591047753614659012019-02-24T11:56:00.000-08:002019-02-24T11:56:39.889-08:00The days and minutes in betweenThere are several weeks uncounted for, from early January to 14 February, when I arrived in France...<br />
Two of these were spent in Italy, first in Follonica and thereabouts (Tuscany); after which I took the <i>freccia bianca</i> and trained northward from springtime on the Mediterranean coast to the snowy north of Piedmonte, and my dear city of Torino.<br />
Follonica: spent a restful and mind-clearing week with Roberta and Walter speaking as much Tuscan Italian as possible (!) and relishing Roberta's superb cooking.<br />
Some sunset views from outside their house in Follonica, looking towards the Island Elba <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hlEu_a_vntOEKk1ZbKtTjS6C_mQsQKaqzWrnGDEf6PLj07gCAlOQuTn2OzDQDXBbPIPH39m4pmu15G0hKg7VIvhCt2hxREk7A8cGZsty2W2kErv3n4aS6JU0rOHMoanjQu6NXhIlgNs/s1600/IMG_2648.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1349" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hlEu_a_vntOEKk1ZbKtTjS6C_mQsQKaqzWrnGDEf6PLj07gCAlOQuTn2OzDQDXBbPIPH39m4pmu15G0hKg7VIvhCt2hxREk7A8cGZsty2W2kErv3n4aS6JU0rOHMoanjQu6NXhIlgNs/s400/IMG_2648.jpg" width="336" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbypwVDs4ohTmn5WfHX_qptY_YG2ZjcDoZeSNwyHyk9hPFy9hKwY4quay0ASPtinrv82WEEpLbIcDcufgpLtMgzISWRpKk6F4581KUbKH3zbAnBHQZjNLesJY7aAOmKBobLzAS6QMgH0/s1600/IMG_2649.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbypwVDs4ohTmn5WfHX_qptY_YG2ZjcDoZeSNwyHyk9hPFy9hKwY4quay0ASPtinrv82WEEpLbIcDcufgpLtMgzISWRpKk6F4581KUbKH3zbAnBHQZjNLesJY7aAOmKBobLzAS6QMgH0/s400/IMG_2649.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGvQCeN3oYQJa9DeNn-9-rtaq3_rYPb_WT-CnKoNOQJZEzWtRhpH91Ze-Lf9ajGzpR3fGUBR4VbCiMmNNfV6MBK-LVqvEeptHBa4T-uV_MHmq-yWKpODCsOd9ejVDfinBrU32uFylCAGE/s1600/IMG_2650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGvQCeN3oYQJa9DeNn-9-rtaq3_rYPb_WT-CnKoNOQJZEzWtRhpH91Ze-Lf9ajGzpR3fGUBR4VbCiMmNNfV6MBK-LVqvEeptHBa4T-uV_MHmq-yWKpODCsOd9ejVDfinBrU32uFylCAGE/s640/IMG_2650.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
We went for long walks along the beach, and skirting the fields where wild asses roam (no, actually, where donkeys / jennys (??) are kept. I am told a female donkey is a "jenny"; these were kept for their milk, which has special properties...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglYaggUxiVCiqwWwZpKs6DBxFqzkFa7WB3IjseWLKtm7x9HAPGNtV-Q-fsTx6HiDRmMGpTiotrFdp5LgnFsTfaMYx6aPF-h5gLoviOXsU0_5mOzffrek7S6Raisavbv-iu_cIMX73wrsc/s1600/IMG_2668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1522" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglYaggUxiVCiqwWwZpKs6DBxFqzkFa7WB3IjseWLKtm7x9HAPGNtV-Q-fsTx6HiDRmMGpTiotrFdp5LgnFsTfaMYx6aPF-h5gLoviOXsU0_5mOzffrek7S6Raisavbv-iu_cIMX73wrsc/s400/IMG_2668.jpg" width="380" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TihwU3uaAjrjAxt_mvciv2E8vhlQV4Ox04T5qroKcvR_pGMczU7HXWYk1NBIvZfw5ku6TEd3ko8l6-VJ1qNuYPKiWojlIuWkc2D3lWbrytdEh4yWfwnSR3DkaXB001HGks9DIdAOoVc/s1600/IMG_2669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1322" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TihwU3uaAjrjAxt_mvciv2E8vhlQV4Ox04T5qroKcvR_pGMczU7HXWYk1NBIvZfw5ku6TEd3ko8l6-VJ1qNuYPKiWojlIuWkc2D3lWbrytdEh4yWfwnSR3DkaXB001HGks9DIdAOoVc/s640/IMG_2669.jpg" width="528" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcwbJWwYTRTeFcrAMfQoBvW61S4XiHMSl58221CRkw06rl-O1vJflfM8eJgWTdOOpXWp6taeNDHceWMTjmqYzsxD4lSiViOTKoXQjRcgS2zlTYHw2rPMnvIGLeka69rMAdW7zW9uj36AI/s1600/IMG_2671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcwbJWwYTRTeFcrAMfQoBvW61S4XiHMSl58221CRkw06rl-O1vJflfM8eJgWTdOOpXWp6taeNDHceWMTjmqYzsxD4lSiViOTKoXQjRcgS2zlTYHw2rPMnvIGLeka69rMAdW7zW9uj36AI/s640/IMG_2671.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-50034895375360021422019-02-24T08:41:00.001-08:002019-02-24T11:38:58.833-08:00From French Brittany in FebruarySpring is here, clumps of celandine glow golden in the grassy verges of the steep pathways leading from the river Vilaine up to the medieval centre of La Roche-Bernard.<br />
A totally photogenic part of Brittany, the southern part near the Gulf of Morbihan.<br />
I arrived here on St Valentine's Day (appropriately) to be met by David in the railway station of Vannes.<br />
After a short drive we reached the marina here in La Roche-Bernard, and there was our boat <i>Stroemhella</i>, idling at her moorings...<br />
A new chapter begins.<br />
Below: shining celandine ; Stroemhella at her mooring ; hazel catkins...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnt0vxSpRI4nSDoQQewozOPqYpk9-LuBZm6hvvtlSY-9X9kNiNe19GHtxX9SsJnVdwRfr12vAZJJWgC21k8pxE2H1HerZdxdE7PitSy2YX66kJl32kHHeSfJptF4ulsSwInJO9a1ExxrM/s1600/IMG_2955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1160" data-original-width="1600" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnt0vxSpRI4nSDoQQewozOPqYpk9-LuBZm6hvvtlSY-9X9kNiNe19GHtxX9SsJnVdwRfr12vAZJJWgC21k8pxE2H1HerZdxdE7PitSy2YX66kJl32kHHeSfJptF4ulsSwInJO9a1ExxrM/s400/IMG_2955.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Beyond <i>Stroemhella</i> the steep bank of the river Vilaine.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD4BmcdyLGr-XERwLiG4CPrCH80Xx8hWcbzbIu0y9c5IkbND1vX7VNSsAV1ii-tLUeTerfvPAbyllqO1-9cGhSwprYrJRw23MbYST8VTHJeQbeFd5uLiGm75LbJC_M-1OMvs70WfBuRoQ/s1600/IMG_2951.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1162" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD4BmcdyLGr-XERwLiG4CPrCH80Xx8hWcbzbIu0y9c5IkbND1vX7VNSsAV1ii-tLUeTerfvPAbyllqO1-9cGhSwprYrJRw23MbYST8VTHJeQbeFd5uLiGm75LbJC_M-1OMvs70WfBuRoQ/s640/IMG_2951.jpg" width="464" /></a></div>
And this is spring in northern Europe.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHaug3uxMiC_EoNQVMvxomCJPnsy1111KDMdX3AFE-eC5K2-Q4lbxUg7BfqGOywTGTc8jYyYLXi6LNGbJ5lsuflUI0VXXTLtu_2l1mgj8wN2uVpNLO1sYESEr-1gNoqQozMBrjhQqLiQ/s1600/IMG_2956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHaug3uxMiC_EoNQVMvxomCJPnsy1111KDMdX3AFE-eC5K2-Q4lbxUg7BfqGOywTGTc8jYyYLXi6LNGbJ5lsuflUI0VXXTLtu_2l1mgj8wN2uVpNLO1sYESEr-1gNoqQozMBrjhQqLiQ/s640/IMG_2956.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-18941496872993267502019-01-20T09:10:00.001-08:002019-01-20T09:10:29.628-08:00Fine Amsterdam architectureWent for a sunny stroll near my house in central Amsterdam.<br />
Caught the Rijksmuseum washed by sunlight, and spied a patch of canal bank where the night's snow still lingered.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojjh0A48ixbk1YezrGVgMYbgaDjI1x2rnYMLP8gcY4rD6aTRVwgj9eDADiTdv0xE3g2WrjiCH7MQ_sIFFAHGC8O85O5ZNxb8-D1_H_DWo0Q9egfBB27FQfMUtluGaFT7ZYFDSIFAN1JM/s1600/IMG_2591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojjh0A48ixbk1YezrGVgMYbgaDjI1x2rnYMLP8gcY4rD6aTRVwgj9eDADiTdv0xE3g2WrjiCH7MQ_sIFFAHGC8O85O5ZNxb8-D1_H_DWo0Q9egfBB27FQfMUtluGaFT7ZYFDSIFAN1JM/s640/IMG_2591.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdc6jaZ1Z9BH8P0o2-au98zZngxyw64zIseZLk5AEF_gd9L4EYBVnGP9bwXt5saNJ_fJTZQTYP8sc0ekVaxTLtUEUH-AgPf0wJ-6TP2rEO2uv7tdh-39pu_TlyUuknd69cQVhJ6P9Vkd8/s1600/IMG_2596.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdc6jaZ1Z9BH8P0o2-au98zZngxyw64zIseZLk5AEF_gd9L4EYBVnGP9bwXt5saNJ_fJTZQTYP8sc0ekVaxTLtUEUH-AgPf0wJ-6TP2rEO2uv7tdh-39pu_TlyUuknd69cQVhJ6P9Vkd8/s640/IMG_2596.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And a low-angle view of the Rijksmuseum across thr Ruysdaelkade.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0e565TJZm9jhgX_48Yz78ZkiqMFLrPU_ZL4eIx2V4miwGmpeeb4GZmo5L6Ej6mucvccWAl835vj0JW_xFdz7qyKGsiQo-MlCkZNNpmIVS4jxmh2TAkKaO7E2BJRR2eIs8nCZvnBguF4/s1600/IMG_2592.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0e565TJZm9jhgX_48Yz78ZkiqMFLrPU_ZL4eIx2V4miwGmpeeb4GZmo5L6Ej6mucvccWAl835vj0JW_xFdz7qyKGsiQo-MlCkZNNpmIVS4jxmh2TAkKaO7E2BJRR2eIs8nCZvnBguF4/s640/IMG_2592.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
To the left is the Zuiderbad, the Swimming Baths of south Amsterdam. I used to to there with the children, around forty years ago. The Baths have been rejuvenated (!) and I'm planning to go swimming soon.<br />
A very beautiful city, especially on a sunny day.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-13123444933458042992019-01-18T13:33:00.000-08:002019-01-18T13:33:04.569-08:00as time flows byWorld revolving through mist and snow... in one small spot I imagine all the many others ...<br />
Here some pix of here, for winter days:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSev-uf88Sq6E5LeT3VudxP-FCmzYJyZgLr1oosEGsKXs6iJJmYEczsb2Fq7ajDc1stummBBdx0xwjpezxBVQhQeGXpJmg0iV-W67o8aLocv-wbv0kkesJoXCRH605q5bCnBs4ZqBGMfQ/s1600/3b442509-07c6-4d57-ad9f-3ed0d8e04bd3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSev-uf88Sq6E5LeT3VudxP-FCmzYJyZgLr1oosEGsKXs6iJJmYEczsb2Fq7ajDc1stummBBdx0xwjpezxBVQhQeGXpJmg0iV-W67o8aLocv-wbv0kkesJoXCRH605q5bCnBs4ZqBGMfQ/s640/3b442509-07c6-4d57-ad9f-3ed0d8e04bd3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
The canals just round the corner from where I live, and the river where the free ferries ply daily, carrying passengers form the south bank where the Amsterdam Central Station stands, to the fast-growing north bank (where we shall keep <i>Stroemhella</i> this coming winter).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcLGlZEBh9pSBI4hUusoOg9gGhRhHW-Zy8RdQiaas1Xz5TJjW8Jed8iXXDv6NKaplqE70jb4RP6V731iNH9xTW6aUlvW8mePeSIosjVHnuSqK6IBJ6aDzH3h7NZ1tf-tsLins-u0fP0lk/s1600/IMG_2585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcLGlZEBh9pSBI4hUusoOg9gGhRhHW-Zy8RdQiaas1Xz5TJjW8Jed8iXXDv6NKaplqE70jb4RP6V731iNH9xTW6aUlvW8mePeSIosjVHnuSqK6IBJ6aDzH3h7NZ1tf-tsLins-u0fP0lk/s640/IMG_2585.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-28418956938758714442019-01-12T06:06:00.000-08:002019-01-12T06:06:55.466-08:00How we survive the intricacies of life...I just read this remark by Joan Didion, and found it utterly appropriate:<br />
In order to survive life, we tell ourselves stories.<br />
<br />
And in my case, as much as possible (as my dear friend Simone says):<br />
Tell the good stories.<br />
<br />
And whatsoever things are lovely, think on these things...<br />
Here is a beautiful photo taken by my nephew, Hezi, in/near the church of the Holy Sepulchre, in Jerusalem. It's the low angle of the camera, and of course the superb composition.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqGBqcmFDNaUgmYoIqtRFMD6jK7loXvLyAqSrd04V4hoPRoqzR8OIgxdwX8_EfDJ5iRQt-AA3UPptVKVQR8RvE5YftHKMxyXktZH5-oEhXoHtePNhyphenhyphenQXGc-NWIDL_oRWq14j-TExEuNk/s1600/032216a5-291a-4dcd-8d38-295bd5406128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqGBqcmFDNaUgmYoIqtRFMD6jK7loXvLyAqSrd04V4hoPRoqzR8OIgxdwX8_EfDJ5iRQt-AA3UPptVKVQR8RvE5YftHKMxyXktZH5-oEhXoHtePNhyphenhyphenQXGc-NWIDL_oRWq14j-TExEuNk/s640/032216a5-291a-4dcd-8d38-295bd5406128.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-51111887410792717102019-01-09T02:16:00.002-08:002019-01-09T02:16:25.770-08:00Hello 2019No time to pause ...<br />
Too much to do in the house/s and essential talking with friends!<br />
So my blogs are going to be very brief for a while.<br />
Do read those from former years, most interesting.<br />
David and I have a very full six months ahead, looking good.<br />
I'll try to attach our letter for 2019.<br />
<br />
Very best wishes to the world as the days turn by.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLrfUK_0z4E-DkFmm3Q-04tPWEU2stC4IDAiRvKxXukw3ZLKzfHTrHmPi9S-X0bd3uABHyYfQz2Wa0Hpo0aMqELRSnBfFPq8LbiXyD1AWbWi4wrM1OczkqHp8E7vZXAiplwQzHhGlDLXs/s1600/IMG_9794.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1220" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLrfUK_0z4E-DkFmm3Q-04tPWEU2stC4IDAiRvKxXukw3ZLKzfHTrHmPi9S-X0bd3uABHyYfQz2Wa0Hpo0aMqELRSnBfFPq8LbiXyD1AWbWi4wrM1OczkqHp8E7vZXAiplwQzHhGlDLXs/s320/IMG_9794.jpg" width="244" /></a></div>
This was last year in Portugal, above the river Douro (winding through the gorge far below)<br /><br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-40891841555157537252018-12-06T06:21:00.003-08:002018-12-06T06:21:26.335-08:00Writing thoughts..."Although a writer does not always know what he has written, he cannot write what he does not know."<br />
Just read these words by Ian Watt when speaking of the English novelist Richardson.<br />
Absolutely. That's why I need to sort through this Blog and give it some shape. Or maybe not...Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-5311090565653774722018-12-05T13:36:00.001-08:002018-12-06T02:56:20.888-08:00winter light in Amsterdam<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKZeT2-rAE4pWXSiQFX8Zt_fkQXcPYFant2tgLaHhi7YNYe2l5p-fUKno9MXBd5uT9pfuOY63JweVVjZCxfwGe5x0nebl-ORj0qObxoRqmVypBYa-3h1F78ma9uAtpr3KOxYSFIaPmaw/s1600/IMG_2224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKZeT2-rAE4pWXSiQFX8Zt_fkQXcPYFant2tgLaHhi7YNYe2l5p-fUKno9MXBd5uT9pfuOY63JweVVjZCxfwGe5x0nebl-ORj0qObxoRqmVypBYa-3h1F78ma9uAtpr3KOxYSFIaPmaw/s400/IMG_2224.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
Very busy these days. (It's Sint Nikolaas evening tonight ...)<br />
The city is also preparing for Christmas. Fairy lights adorn the bare branches of the trees lining some canals :<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60aEQV6TCWyI9h-Y1y2Wljo7wI424Xs5YoULdCqc-mIYo1Q8LJ6cmU8fkHEFJj0bM_Vch7T0c_Jqm8Vs1_twowi-du-n6G8xu-nKNVd8eMjkhfgdHoLzh-aaZouvK5tt-7_notPsN3II/s1600/IMG_2225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60aEQV6TCWyI9h-Y1y2Wljo7wI424Xs5YoULdCqc-mIYo1Q8LJ6cmU8fkHEFJj0bM_Vch7T0c_Jqm8Vs1_twowi-du-n6G8xu-nKNVd8eMjkhfgdHoLzh-aaZouvK5tt-7_notPsN3II/s640/IMG_2225.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
These two pix of the fairy lights are not quite the same!<br />
This is the canal at the end of my street.<br />
I am continually aware of how lucky I am to live in this location. It is always alive, and happily I love talking to the tourists (wonderful excuse to practise my languages!).<br />
Yesterday in the midst of many rainy days, we had a stretch of sunshine; so not only did I sit on a bench outside a small cafe and drink a cappuchino, I also walked along the Stadhouderskade near the Rijksmuseum, and took some photos.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBVueJsQyoW4AzNLRyMqIH-o0Iht5Wu9Tc7N3LrouedZVj9DIUJNm8_ka-X9EjTt5M2VBbrp5fWPqjQ28Xpt6KRUvYnxJ2lgdXt-HRW9SAHWTjZg-30l03xdh60Te4TANR2hUDlIviDlE/s1600/IMG_2240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1109" data-original-width="1600" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBVueJsQyoW4AzNLRyMqIH-o0Iht5Wu9Tc7N3LrouedZVj9DIUJNm8_ka-X9EjTt5M2VBbrp5fWPqjQ28Xpt6KRUvYnxJ2lgdXt-HRW9SAHWTjZg-30l03xdh60Te4TANR2hUDlIviDlE/s400/IMG_2240.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGhhyYPmNc9QrPjmO2gxFMyPn7Z24hY2Rop8YQhLJyGDhCowS1FLmwq9mwoOlBRXzwaE82K3pqnFhM5sdpnDwyjCZq_4aZ6WqsMx4cozW-DsiBxyoNGbTJ1oZ-q70cPUlCz8INhVRAARU/s1600/IMG_2243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1258" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGhhyYPmNc9QrPjmO2gxFMyPn7Z24hY2Rop8YQhLJyGDhCowS1FLmwq9mwoOlBRXzwaE82K3pqnFhM5sdpnDwyjCZq_4aZ6WqsMx4cozW-DsiBxyoNGbTJ1oZ-q70cPUlCz8INhVRAARU/s640/IMG_2243.jpg" width="502" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_01Ih1oIdr8vDbYc1u6M9cuJTnVX0wAU-gHraWzrSIgCAaWzgvcgv5S0RbwtH4qNzI8LvGqulM3bNry2MNNtwAth_YLE4f6-DZiUj0WmaZnPlWIQzMbmXSYjGc-aw6tPwAhZWbAnD4yI/s1600/IMG_2252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1253" data-original-width="1600" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_01Ih1oIdr8vDbYc1u6M9cuJTnVX0wAU-gHraWzrSIgCAaWzgvcgv5S0RbwtH4qNzI8LvGqulM3bNry2MNNtwAth_YLE4f6-DZiUj0WmaZnPlWIQzMbmXSYjGc-aw6tPwAhZWbAnD4yI/s400/IMG_2252.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgdY4lSADuYsTnA-J1GDPk4aLbILjlmrEjey5pTU7oBRgXXdSp7KiapLm2jPRmRFUOlOHrnY9MEp9I-bZox965ddkl5q9TZen2cm_R4Fs1bZFPSXB35exURglBcVPg57Ys9J8nf4DpNhw/s1600/IMG_2253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgdY4lSADuYsTnA-J1GDPk4aLbILjlmrEjey5pTU7oBRgXXdSp7KiapLm2jPRmRFUOlOHrnY9MEp9I-bZox965ddkl5q9TZen2cm_R4Fs1bZFPSXB35exURglBcVPg57Ys9J8nf4DpNhw/s640/IMG_2253.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Five minutes' walk from my house.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Almost <i>rus in urbe</i>... what the Romans longed for: the countryside plus the city, all combined.<br />
But I do notice the air pollution.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Happily, there are still cheerful water fowl; my friend Jenny thinks these are coots (as opposed to moorhens, which have red on their beaks):<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZJbfAQ4FPcma7eLJ-lvie6casFgPKcVhcwWGK-X8Ye3WlrcaQCIP1brLdsuL0I0cDcBEoZedpRTIERvltXKTcridAwPNaBGLZODI5i7xSUXjJRHLdd77lgued_1ldhzyNTzEFyg6VZu8/s1600/IMG_2250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1498" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZJbfAQ4FPcma7eLJ-lvie6casFgPKcVhcwWGK-X8Ye3WlrcaQCIP1brLdsuL0I0cDcBEoZedpRTIERvltXKTcridAwPNaBGLZODI5i7xSUXjJRHLdd77lgued_1ldhzyNTzEFyg6VZu8/s320/IMG_2250.jpg" width="299" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pNEV-IrloFh7WgVSSfuGHthlWoHTMvSt59C8kP0UwK7NcxUyVyLkZEGmyMUaVKUqc_6XmgiENpw37kBu_8pYC3cYGrv2xcBllBOdiK7p8EpZ-2OUElb8XzhMu6JTF9Mb0hkX7q0mk5I/s1600/IMG_2249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pNEV-IrloFh7WgVSSfuGHthlWoHTMvSt59C8kP0UwK7NcxUyVyLkZEGmyMUaVKUqc_6XmgiENpw37kBu_8pYC3cYGrv2xcBllBOdiK7p8EpZ-2OUElb8XzhMu6JTF9Mb0hkX7q0mk5I/s640/IMG_2249.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-38452593265524048022018-11-18T12:25:00.000-08:002018-11-18T12:25:16.495-08:00Cold comes to NorwayBut we are prepared. First some very rainy days in Bergen, but the wet no problem, lots to see.<br />
Excellent Ship Museum and good art galleries. We walked along the damp grey streets and found some excellent places to eat at not too astronomical prices.<br />
Here a lovely pic by the painter who taught Munch; a wet scene in Norway:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuXB8aeRews1nXeD4zjPKftRLtwDNcXbLbhdfNedIOCZQCxnMhVhtKSax05UOWCJeca8QECOKwoSbmMDN-gBaZ6GNUqHNh1s1H4mur91-fDM-NIaSEmY9XpLPyBALccG600eLT7lzD-Sg/s1600/IMG_2076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuXB8aeRews1nXeD4zjPKftRLtwDNcXbLbhdfNedIOCZQCxnMhVhtKSax05UOWCJeca8QECOKwoSbmMDN-gBaZ6GNUqHNh1s1H4mur91-fDM-NIaSEmY9XpLPyBALccG600eLT7lzD-Sg/s640/IMG_2076.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
I feel the northern wind and quiet rain...<br />
Returning home we took the ferry from Bergen to Stavanger and enjoyed a day's watery journey and had some fine fjord views.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaPdWnedyKg7ihlvAzjEQqTdOAEDgtLt018StOrIn2xQ-uJGIgRO5UngR9_SnolmHQle7qDpEDptNlMPmGh-Zds5f1vounr84tVu4FAiHJVk88y8Hfo7BlrqtYuYJQhkoPVktkEI1OwJc/s1600/IMG_2104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaPdWnedyKg7ihlvAzjEQqTdOAEDgtLt018StOrIn2xQ-uJGIgRO5UngR9_SnolmHQle7qDpEDptNlMPmGh-Zds5f1vounr84tVu4FAiHJVk88y8Hfo7BlrqtYuYJQhkoPVktkEI1OwJc/s640/IMG_2104.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Dramatic effect of light over water. Below, lighter and greener ...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQh02o8ulBFGuwG-MDysZdbLllvfOfYS6ACdztjPOvpH2hlSZkR-FyDWv9O1z-Bh-kbGeM8fpl8jAEgtgmvdGyqEd3vH8aTsG3cLNHFHYnkQK7QmDCV_9Xh_S0CzNNdZWDCWKSzd8LbDg/s1600/IMG_2107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQh02o8ulBFGuwG-MDysZdbLllvfOfYS6ACdztjPOvpH2hlSZkR-FyDWv9O1z-Bh-kbGeM8fpl8jAEgtgmvdGyqEd3vH8aTsG3cLNHFHYnkQK7QmDCV_9Xh_S0CzNNdZWDCWKSzd8LbDg/s640/IMG_2107.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
So we wended our way home to Stavanger, heads filled with "cool" pictures, and happy memories of succulent codfish meals, as shown below:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWW6xB6SIwQd3MC8_nOu6Baup19v7RGMTOqEdWkhVrGhKUxtPw3dpgcnUsID2ZFRpGEM9CoM5NDf8pevYK2Pi7_rwxbeDiwXb17j0SKgBTk8xqCXwXtuXXTi-awgRiN1wCigMAae7jhk/s1600/IMG_2096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWW6xB6SIwQd3MC8_nOu6Baup19v7RGMTOqEdWkhVrGhKUxtPw3dpgcnUsID2ZFRpGEM9CoM5NDf8pevYK2Pi7_rwxbeDiwXb17j0SKgBTk8xqCXwXtuXXTi-awgRiN1wCigMAae7jhk/s320/IMG_2096.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKH4qQRnue9123v79qDV47EaNolZkOh91Q15JnblAiVkd7T7939a6xPf7k6f7VRKvrVlOWlZwrEt4-QCWW0Pk6iGNFsHmXZKLeKW8dvrC0MNjO6Dm26Sa6MA1DnXU6ncyvWddVo5WGI4/s1600/IMG_2095.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKH4qQRnue9123v79qDV47EaNolZkOh91Q15JnblAiVkd7T7939a6xPf7k6f7VRKvrVlOWlZwrEt4-QCWW0Pk6iGNFsHmXZKLeKW8dvrC0MNjO6Dm26Sa6MA1DnXU6ncyvWddVo5WGI4/s320/IMG_2095.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
To the right is the menu, in genuine Norsk, and I enjoyed not only the "<i>plukkfisk</i>" which is shredded salted cod mixed with mashed potato, but also the "<i>persetorsk</i>" which is shown above. This is cod marinated in salt and sugar and then pressed (whence the <i>perse</i> bit in the name of the dish, I assume) and then I believe, either baked or steamed.<br />
Delicious. The two of us ate for the equivalent of about €40, which included a small glass each of splendid home-brewed dark beer.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Back in Stavanger we watched the huge misty evening creeping in from the lakes and softly covering all the low houses and dripping from the bare branches of the still trees. Next day the sun was swallowed at around 3 p.m. into a white sky. No more sunsets. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgxvXCyOVPsNOC2QBHi1UNQS9-BJPpWqSxrY6SHjkzlWLtsICkkBL7-EzMu0QPhty75YruVkjh_JQFSpWn1tD0nkIBR_FsF2Rhhif4m-c_hxKP6Sn15QYFxN3-g8t_ttKCV8rnR6TEo3c/s1600/IMG_2134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1358" data-original-width="1600" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgxvXCyOVPsNOC2QBHi1UNQS9-BJPpWqSxrY6SHjkzlWLtsICkkBL7-EzMu0QPhty75YruVkjh_JQFSpWn1tD0nkIBR_FsF2Rhhif4m-c_hxKP6Sn15QYFxN3-g8t_ttKCV8rnR6TEo3c/s400/IMG_2134.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicwGDGjDirhKmL7HX2FfnonF_ELY3LHzzWtmW56PeO1LPTInCuMedkSHwL8-Lis9kxgdd85YDbhHbKPoHV1CuxDErex0DmZ7Z5lDw4tyX2A_K0sU4BVbZJJFRSqRODcudNbav2FuyuLLk/s1600/IMG_2133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1318" data-original-width="1600" height="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicwGDGjDirhKmL7HX2FfnonF_ELY3LHzzWtmW56PeO1LPTInCuMedkSHwL8-Lis9kxgdd85YDbhHbKPoHV1CuxDErex0DmZ7Z5lDw4tyX2A_K0sU4BVbZJJFRSqRODcudNbav2FuyuLLk/s640/IMG_2133.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Then quiet night and no dogs bark.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-13331879295735583362018-11-10T08:23:00.001-08:002018-11-10T08:23:57.388-08:00And this is autumn in NorwayWent for a wonderful warm quiet walk around one of the many lakes here in Stavanger.<br />
The scenery utterly photogenic!!<br />
And as the walk was about nine kilometers we are feeling pretty fit.<br />
For the rest of David's stay here, the forecast is rain, rain and more rain...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0OlAZCgmR4ZAsnShlgpWRN0gaF3FywdrR7N1IFRKRrpyf6sPhupltegmCE5gyxvu-CoCt9rDaKJlzhpWKlfcUDY0tVaP6csei8X22Kmlat_FEL6_fwyvSMvjsrWyGxfdtoLtaVodvvl0/s1600/IMG_2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0OlAZCgmR4ZAsnShlgpWRN0gaF3FywdrR7N1IFRKRrpyf6sPhupltegmCE5gyxvu-CoCt9rDaKJlzhpWKlfcUDY0tVaP6csei8X22Kmlat_FEL6_fwyvSMvjsrWyGxfdtoLtaVodvvl0/s640/IMG_2017.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJECQkLwqDQ7HIdKclUd6nua02fFVnU5oCVvVVW9ZtWN5iuaGxOXJJIycKML37I4Gid4PvQALdLq4H7uKr8nD80YjZzrc7LKv1Bzlon37FJzEZvqUjdZAaPp95HczjVvw9NNK-ZeUnBlE/s1600/IMG_2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJECQkLwqDQ7HIdKclUd6nua02fFVnU5oCVvVVW9ZtWN5iuaGxOXJJIycKML37I4Gid4PvQALdLq4H7uKr8nD80YjZzrc7LKv1Bzlon37FJzEZvqUjdZAaPp95HczjVvw9NNK-ZeUnBlE/s640/IMG_2018.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI2EkYYFUTd8xUwfLTwblopPDfI6MUApuXF9LgRuX9GMA5Fwq9hg70d8EkVy8_s7EI-Z0UrNB6bYmbV_uNPqPuv6d1NiWeXDb1QjYzVYftcpGaICdp44wERNp2-wgUfhjHutNLib5TC18/s1600/IMG_2028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1324" data-original-width="1600" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI2EkYYFUTd8xUwfLTwblopPDfI6MUApuXF9LgRuX9GMA5Fwq9hg70d8EkVy8_s7EI-Z0UrNB6bYmbV_uNPqPuv6d1NiWeXDb1QjYzVYftcpGaICdp44wERNp2-wgUfhjHutNLib5TC18/s400/IMG_2028.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYzQNt3_NAFHJ6zzbmrUlAoOXK-pZTDp-tsuvPoZzSjmMhLlaYKOkU2xAhhTNMiWJDNTAqhDYUGIyx7_cacyAqfxD0b4MLsRVa26kjCHVVkCixYY7NxU9eCF_qaVgYtaa9B8K4EA9LKv4/s1600/IMG_2032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYzQNt3_NAFHJ6zzbmrUlAoOXK-pZTDp-tsuvPoZzSjmMhLlaYKOkU2xAhhTNMiWJDNTAqhDYUGIyx7_cacyAqfxD0b4MLsRVa26kjCHVVkCixYY7NxU9eCF_qaVgYtaa9B8K4EA9LKv4/s400/IMG_2032.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
To our delight we found a solitary cormorant, perched on a boulder in the lake.<br />
<br />
As we walked round the lake the light changed continually, until at last there was the most glorious sunset.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJdhcieJCpoGMGPIZUGxwbzWmZAvEgHT0Gytc67fhSm4Y4q6LBaedy3pavn1qUCYwyjYEDr4Gh9ybTVvq3mMzq1miA9kCe92djpsPe8Lwo-tZ-onp2jsCkfdyXUbcbtxkkuV817xijtXk/s1600/IMG_2033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJdhcieJCpoGMGPIZUGxwbzWmZAvEgHT0Gytc67fhSm4Y4q6LBaedy3pavn1qUCYwyjYEDr4Gh9ybTVvq3mMzq1miA9kCe92djpsPe8Lwo-tZ-onp2jsCkfdyXUbcbtxkkuV817xijtXk/s640/IMG_2033.jpg" width="640" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnujcQbJiRt8YJYJOnoEiMlB6G5yE7mQa6BQJx5M13mt2p4GaOD414EKo_yW3sUsvZ4ivnw4bK7Dx1gXD9sn3jVAimSj_F6RxSK_26HnR4SzbNII42_Sn2ljLfpMfTQAb4nlotnPVeJGI/s1600/IMG_2034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1095" data-original-width="1600" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnujcQbJiRt8YJYJOnoEiMlB6G5yE7mQa6BQJx5M13mt2p4GaOD414EKo_yW3sUsvZ4ivnw4bK7Dx1gXD9sn3jVAimSj_F6RxSK_26HnR4SzbNII42_Sn2ljLfpMfTQAb4nlotnPVeJGI/s640/IMG_2034.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizgkWXojoRQaaOJHCpw5ueXoYS5fISlBvBWVcSRcrKl-b_PdoEVZzTl-qXc1NCIVY7SYhmLd8c223zeWnZQEoxiTJ5Q_6h-PH1bwI4Q08bOLK8R9iclNgMkIHjPWA4ilsPlF1CzZ6OfV4/s1600/IMG_2035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizgkWXojoRQaaOJHCpw5ueXoYS5fISlBvBWVcSRcrKl-b_PdoEVZzTl-qXc1NCIVY7SYhmLd8c223zeWnZQEoxiTJ5Q_6h-PH1bwI4Q08bOLK8R9iclNgMkIHjPWA4ilsPlF1CzZ6OfV4/s640/IMG_2035.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Then we reached home and beheld the full glory, evening light across the water. </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhKyla_FU9EZpwu-ergiHFXQWNgbIFbDhz32fE9ZbL-NGQtT1ohvqlzATlE7YVz5T2AeT_prqpmEEj2ncek82hwhutqw5MxVub5p8FVjOA91DigSS1GZDx2SwDQU3NjQRwM5PU2Xb-88/s1600/IMG_2037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1086" data-original-width="1600" height="433" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhKyla_FU9EZpwu-ergiHFXQWNgbIFbDhz32fE9ZbL-NGQtT1ohvqlzATlE7YVz5T2AeT_prqpmEEj2ncek82hwhutqw5MxVub5p8FVjOA91DigSS1GZDx2SwDQU3NjQRwM5PU2Xb-88/s640/IMG_2037.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-66615984710247306922018-11-07T12:26:00.001-08:002018-11-07T12:26:33.789-08:00Halloween 2018More children on the streets in Amsterdam (and England too, I hear) than ever before, and mumbling "trick or treat" without knowing what this means (I asked them, but of course many of the little ones don't speak English!)<br />
But they made a goodly show in their costumes as witches, vampires, skeletons and ghosts ... and I fed them tangerines and <i>pepernoten</i> (which are small crunchy cookies tasting of ginger) and it was nice to see so many young people in our somewhat ageing neighbourhood of Amsterdam.<br />
Here's me and a splendid pumpkin carved out by one of the neighbours:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-X-UZuOSCWisGZrVNEpV46AcjeJ6tKK2EGVcx_qp3TZdOC_H9WfX8u7sCmVy_WGP3-5rDVlChezLJfR-A7eOqII7bSA5wHIJuFYxKxvOzg3z4ip7R_QfNAI4TICQmj3BCspav22V3ST8/s1600/IMG_1938.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1145" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-X-UZuOSCWisGZrVNEpV46AcjeJ6tKK2EGVcx_qp3TZdOC_H9WfX8u7sCmVy_WGP3-5rDVlChezLJfR-A7eOqII7bSA5wHIJuFYxKxvOzg3z4ip7R_QfNAI4TICQmj3BCspav22V3ST8/s640/IMG_1938.jpg" width="458" /></a></div>
And here is a close-up of the pumpkin (much admired: thank you Chris, neighbour from the US who has lived across the road for several years)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZg8TYrY4ofKg2MbC8vKc0cRWYAF8Yboek0qiXd6_PbdBZ5ecBBTnPNIypcQl9SmmIFT_uoEyqHoueMxp0ZhF6x9MACwFQzJBsFe4FnTKiSbph685-iyVOMtY6udnpWx5clw5DH_t84s/s1600/IMG_1935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1596" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZg8TYrY4ofKg2MbC8vKc0cRWYAF8Yboek0qiXd6_PbdBZ5ecBBTnPNIypcQl9SmmIFT_uoEyqHoueMxp0ZhF6x9MACwFQzJBsFe4FnTKiSbph685-iyVOMtY6udnpWx5clw5DH_t84s/s400/IMG_1935.jpg" width="398" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Just behind the pumpkin you can see the edge of the step leading up to my front door.<br />
<br />
So nice to join in the pagan traditions, even when they have returned to Europe via the New World ... curious...<br />
<br />
A few days later we packed and set off for a few weeks in Norway, visiting Judy and Christiaan and the grandchildren.<br />
<br />
And here we are in Stavanger, in a wide clear world, full of wind and water.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7BYCSdQtachXfaSzha29_ItcaEUMpDinKHdD2aU8mDAvIEGFgwxweAxnfvD1KE9f_S7YAxdqY7zYEZbpcYPkIhWGSh313afIR3Yp79LCVBq83-J01dNdlHgN8dGpQPXATPn8OsMULT68/s1600/IMG_1984.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1268" data-original-width="1600" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7BYCSdQtachXfaSzha29_ItcaEUMpDinKHdD2aU8mDAvIEGFgwxweAxnfvD1KE9f_S7YAxdqY7zYEZbpcYPkIhWGSh313afIR3Yp79LCVBq83-J01dNdlHgN8dGpQPXATPn8OsMULT68/s400/IMG_1984.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-20276034729730020782018-10-19T07:17:00.000-07:002018-10-19T07:17:01.878-07:00The gold is paling...Autumn sun still cheers us every day, but the mornings and evenings ask for warm jackets, and the daylight grows shorter with each passing day. Coming weekend the clocks got back, and then an end to sunlit late afternoons, sipping tea or drinking beer on a street terrace or a friend's balcony. <br />
We continue to walk the leaf-strewn streets and watch the light glinting on the canals.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhexeDRhPJKsvjLWJZLDLTtUD56oTCgb3GFU51sOqVQMWEnsyteDnn9Z3FQ8KKAESQyz9RicpGDl1ubamoNstOW7gBTK9J5GxuwIBWRH-bqVMnmKwXmiPis_HcyUTjbE5q6Mo8tG2s8e2g/s1600/IMG_1823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhexeDRhPJKsvjLWJZLDLTtUD56oTCgb3GFU51sOqVQMWEnsyteDnn9Z3FQ8KKAESQyz9RicpGDl1ubamoNstOW7gBTK9J5GxuwIBWRH-bqVMnmKwXmiPis_HcyUTjbE5q6Mo8tG2s8e2g/s640/IMG_1823.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
David and I fill our days with many inquiries connected with the unsureness surrounding Brexit, the unsureness in connection with what's going to happen with the monumental building beside David's house, (the new owners maintain silence regarding their plans...) and the definite intention of keeping the body fit despite the onset of creaking age!<br />
We go for walks through this beautiful city, always discovering yet another hitherto unknown <i>steegje</i> (narrow street or alleyway) and rejoicing in the infinite variety of urban architecture that is to be seen here.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilAufDh0iz-mgVHXq6UIlXtfYalDY0o1SsfMYTCPbpV_Vt0NhKq7hDRjs55_Vs3ZTYtXzMr3ykYmCaDRWqAhtloA6VC86P9SppzpLLiWcPFCQ1ZdNw2rsHOCx0VqgSAfyvqzVwP712tF0/s1600/IMG_1817.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1498" data-original-width="1600" height="598" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilAufDh0iz-mgVHXq6UIlXtfYalDY0o1SsfMYTCPbpV_Vt0NhKq7hDRjs55_Vs3ZTYtXzMr3ykYmCaDRWqAhtloA6VC86P9SppzpLLiWcPFCQ1ZdNw2rsHOCx0VqgSAfyvqzVwP712tF0/s640/IMG_1817.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Watching the light glance upon the water, and soaking in the abundance of colour (see photo above!), forms a compensation, a kind of balance to the pictures of brutality and sheer ugliness that the media present us with. What to do with these images? I am glad not to have a television or take a daily newspaper. Always plenty of "news" to find via the internet. I often remember what the writer Saul Bellow said, many years ago: <i>We are troubled by too much knowing</i>. This was in the early days of internet, before Facebook, Twitter, whatsApp and so forth.<br />
<br />
How about the Metaphysical poets?<br />
<i>Only a sweet and virtuous soul</i><br />
<i>Like seasoned timber, never gives.</i><br />
<i>And though the whole world turn to coal</i><br />
<i>Then chiefly lives...</i><br />
<br />
Words to ponder on as autumn departs.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3XxBod47NdcMxyIsx0jM5Ew6Sly41go01DvKpB_TTZnrJ3M9hcHs8Xq2HHzqLlZJcp-V5sEceZkuK2vITKcaYfHYYr1j5Wea4rt_jaHs_nL17WVcPPfoEIVEVqzxfo4i8qxpt_F2ZspI/s1600/IMG_1793.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1243" data-original-width="1600" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3XxBod47NdcMxyIsx0jM5Ew6Sly41go01DvKpB_TTZnrJ3M9hcHs8Xq2HHzqLlZJcp-V5sEceZkuK2vITKcaYfHYYr1j5Wea4rt_jaHs_nL17WVcPPfoEIVEVqzxfo4i8qxpt_F2ZspI/s640/IMG_1793.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8100697932112506698.post-68453779683230224442018-10-05T11:07:00.001-07:002018-10-05T11:07:51.748-07:00Summer returnsOr perhaps, glorious golden autumn is here once more...<br />
Now we are enjoying days of delicious sunshine, 22 degrees Celsius, people in short sleeves, and here in Amsterdam, boats filled with happy relaxed folk ply the sun-flecked waters of the canals.<br />
I am busy with houses and family and friends and much to-ing and fro-ing; so little time to write. <br />
<br />
Below, two sunset pix (actually, one is a sunrise)<br />
The sun seem rising over the river Vilaine, in south Brittany, photo by David.<br />
The sun setting by the Maritime Museum Amsterdam, photo by Machteld.<br />
Misty sunrise:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBb-Imf_qDE8JOMJDRDN6uIa6wnMQWL48FllB3Yw7JQGCG5BqeEXlfplE1Fd2Vo2bMuDh08y06paMllYP11xSGj-xQTc6LgovnTmDBjbBI79Ta3gkiLlupx5WmGybWv50RgMucz8eIpAY/s1600/IMG_8926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBb-Imf_qDE8JOMJDRDN6uIa6wnMQWL48FllB3Yw7JQGCG5BqeEXlfplE1Fd2Vo2bMuDh08y06paMllYP11xSGj-xQTc6LgovnTmDBjbBI79Ta3gkiLlupx5WmGybWv50RgMucz8eIpAY/s640/IMG_8926.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Below: sunset<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-rdJ1Cv6RUttaj2FU34QOEiOA8r0Pcr1VomKrtCtkNA6Of3IBKyiTShDphFQgd3xBg9yg2HKoCunSSgLBX6tFFo5OCER2qXCJIiRQqs_eUOKVONRJX5R-jHEWBhr19nbJOp4vRPTpds/s1600/a26b5a19-d289-4abe-82f5-aaa8a6a02b7a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="774" data-original-width="1376" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-rdJ1Cv6RUttaj2FU34QOEiOA8r0Pcr1VomKrtCtkNA6Of3IBKyiTShDphFQgd3xBg9yg2HKoCunSSgLBX6tFFo5OCER2qXCJIiRQqs_eUOKVONRJX5R-jHEWBhr19nbJOp4vRPTpds/s640/a26b5a19-d289-4abe-82f5-aaa8a6a02b7a.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Wendie Shafferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478500489682314529noreply@blogger.com0