Stolen time and christmas taste

I've had time. Or rather, stolen time, to do those things. Watch the burning lights of the first sunday in advent, drink mulled wine, eat ginger snaps, smile to friends and hang that beautiful silver angel in the window.

The taste of almonds and ginger snaps has filled the afternoons lately, together with wrapping presents and finishing christmas calendars. I feel I've really, truly tasted the first days of christmas - chosen to taste them - enjoying the tastes, smells and music. Saving the every day joys and tastes for later - like for instance writing this blog.

And then, of course, I discovered that all the neighbours already put up their christmas lights (I forgot), and that most of my friends have eaten clementines for weeks (I didn't know they were any good yet). I suddenly felt a bit cheated. In the true spirit of christmas I decided to repress those thoughts and focused on this - my stolen christmas time and the taste of mulled wine, ginger snaps and almonds.

Wine and words

I've lately come to the conclusion that I slightly disagree on the saying "a picture says more than a thousand words". I would rather turn the saying around - a word could say so much more than a picture.

A picture is very defined in its form. Showing for instance a certain face, with a certain feeling, and with these exact colours. Words, on the other hand, are not always as defined.

If I say for instance, muslim, your head will fill with pictures, that again are supposed to contain more than a thousand words. In addition you will think of other words, as for instance: mosque, Egypt and Mohammed. They again contain other pictures.

In a way, words are also a bit more dangerous than pictures, because of the enormous amount of pictures they make people recall. The word-smith can't control which images the receiver conjures. A word that is relatively harmless in my head, "wine" for instance (I think of endless, beautiful vineyards, great tastes and good company), may come through as very appalling in other peoples minds (reminding them of, for instance, addiction, forbidden pleasures or awfully tasting beverages).

Not all words are as filled of pictures as the one I've mentioned. "As", for instance, a relatively uninteresting word, or what about "on"? Not the most interesting that either, but still - it might make you recall some pictures?
This is maybe why I love words so much - they are much like wine - complicated in their tastes. You can limit or expand them, by adding other words. Just as you can limit or expand a wine, by adding other tastes.

So today I toast with wine - to words! They are delicious and dangerous enough to celebrate. Try, for instance, the taste of "muslim wine".

Tea reminder

Dear reader
Just a reminder to you: in between granting all those christmas wishes, working and doing the dishes. Remember that nice, big cup of tea! It will save your life, the day and much more - especially with that warm "pain au chocolat" on the side! ;) Enjoy!

- Sarah

First party

Pretty invitations sent out - check, good food prepared - check, music creating a nice mood - check, flowers in a vase - check, beautifully decorated table - check, pretty dress - uncheck (appeared to be impossible while breastfeeding. Tights, a top and nice shoes instead), a tiny bit stressed after preparing food and decoration before and during the guests arrival - check.

Nothing is like a party. I love preparing for it, dress up a little more than usual, eat the food I've made, observe the guests having a good time while enjoying the food or just something nice in their glass or cup.

Today I served cinnamon rolls and lemonade, with marzipan cake and slices of whole grain bread with egg and smoked salmon on the side. All in honour of my little son Atlas. Now four months old, we felt it was time to celebrate his entering into the world and our family. So:

Baby dressed in tuxedo shirt - check, baby awake - uncheck (he decided to fall asleep five minutes before the guests arrived, after having stayed awake the entire morning), guests arriving i nice clothes - check, lighting and blowing out candles on cake, for Atlas - check, receiving presents - check, running up to fetch crying baby from his bedroom - check, staging "blowing out candles scene" again, this time with baby - check, open presents with baby - check, passing baby around - check, smiling and socialising - check, thanking guests for gifts and contribution to the party - check.

And at last: sitting down in sofa smiling and enjoying the silence after the guests have left - check.

Wrapping and marshmallows

Christmas is getting closer, and I'm happy to announce that a lot of friends and relatives are celebrating their birthday every fall. They give me an excellent opportunity to practise my wrapping skills and come up with ideas for The Christmas Wrapping of the Year (yes, I do not kid you).

A couple of days before christmas I lock my self in a room with loads of floor space, take a thermos with coffee with me and spend the whole day sitting on the floor, wrapping delicious presents. This is really one of the best things with christmas - buying or making gifts and wrapping them. Simply love it.

I always choose a theme. One year all presents were put in brown paper bags with hay working as ribbon, attached with a red seal. Another year I used gingerbread men as gift tags, tied with red ribbon to wrapping paper made of the boring looking business section of the newspaper. Another year I used leather and hide as paper, tied together with black or white silk ribbon.

Wrapping gifts tastes like grilled marshmallows - sweet. In addition it takes time to make them, but you really enjoy the result. It's also really tiresome when you're making a lot of them - and you get kind of sick of it in the end, but still you kind of love it.

The planning phase is probably the thing I enjoy the most, so even though I have plenty of friends and relatives to wrap presents to before christmas - if you're stuck and need ideas for your christmas wrapping this year, just ask. It's marshmallow-time!

Nothing and water

There was really nothing left. The fall darkness and cold weather had drained me for energy, light and "want". Coming home from work I was just an empty shell of nothing. The winters' and falls' biting weather and darkness really is evil.

I don't know where I found it, but somewhere in the nothingness I managed to find a tiny little "want" to work out. The seven minutes by car to the fitness centre looked like an eternity in my head, so even though it meant to actually have to enter the frosty fall evening, I aimed for a run with Atlas wrapt in warm clothing in the pram. The road from our kitchen table, via the walk in closet to get dressed for the run, to the front door was the worst, heaviest and really an awfully itchy thing to go through!

Starting to run, when I first managed to get out of the house, was so easy. Like ice cold water. When you're really thirsty there's nothing like it. You feel strangely alive after drinking it - and content. The freshness invigorates every part of your body, and even though you're so tired you're not sure you're body actually is there, under your head, you suddenly feel life tingle. First maybe, in a finger or toe, then, slowly spreading in towards the heart.

Entering the warmth of my house after the run, I found the want to write a little, light some candles, and maybe read a book. The shellness was suddenly gone, and instead there was this calm stream of peace filling the place - and the "want" for more water.

Unexpected time

Suddenly you're stuck, due to weather conditions, at Flesland airport just outside Bergen. A register of emotions pass through you. Stress, impatience, boredom, expectation, tiredness, relaxation... Today I settle on relaxation.

Five hours have been given me. Even though they were already there, it's like they didn't really exist until now. Five ours of now. Creamy, delicious hours, filled with the book I'm currently reading, free food from our carrier, changing diapers on Atlas, drinking coffee and enjoying the company of my mum.

It tastes like grilled Chevre, glazed in honey. A bit surprising, a bit sweet, a hint of sour, with the consistence of something you think you've had before.

It's a choice really, enjoying these unexpected hours. I can't do anything about the air traffic, so, instead of whining about the weather, why not have a honey glazed Chevre?

Small pleasures

Again, it's one of those small pleasures that enters the limelight of my blog: Drinking coffee in the sun, a really cold fall day in Bergen. I enjoyed this moment today, with my sister who lives in the town that would have been the most beautiful in the world, if it just didn't rain as much as it does.

We bought our coffee (black for me, latte for my sister) in this tiny, just perfect café, situated in one of the narrow streets climbing the mountains that surrounds Bergen. The café is, as I said, tiny, and therefor always crowded, and since we also had a stroller with us, we decided to enjoy our hot beverages in the sun.

We leaned on a stone wall - trying to collect heat from the thrifty warming sun. Watching people pass us on the side-walk, going to or from their weekend plans. We talked about coffee, social life and enjoying it. The moment actually tasted like strawberries. It was just as natural, refreshing, clean and simple. When we'd finished our coffees is was just as natural to walk away from the moment. It was gone - the strawberries had been eaten and we felt just satisfied.

Christmas mistress

Naughty, naughty girl! I've been doing stuff I'm absolutely not ought to do. The minor incident first. I was supposed to pack a bag for going away this weekend. I kind of forgot, well, postponed it, is more correct. I preferred spending some time with these words - love words, and, ahrmmm, a magazine. Yes. The magazine is not harmful in itself. It's actually very harmless and delicious. Both the layout and the lovely, tasteful food and wine described in it is just wonderful. The not so very minor incident was me reading this specific issue - in november.

I usually put off everything the day this magazine arrives in the mail (which happens every second month), but what I also usually does (and this is kind of a rule in my house), is not inviting Christmas in to my house, heart or mind until december has knocked on our door. It is because I want to preserve some of the Christmas magic. I keep thinking the magic will disappear if I enjoy Christmas too much, over too much time every year. Writing it down, I hear how silly it sounds. Why shouldn't I enjoy?

So, I opened this lovely december edition of my food and wine magazine, and I fell. I couldn't stop myself. I felt Christmas, heard Christmas, smelled, tasted and fully enjoyed Christmas. And do I feel naughty? - yes, I do. And do I feel I deserve all those fantastic Christmas feelings I had for thirty minutes? - yes I do. And will Santa cross me off his list this year? - no he won't, 'cause this is exactly the kind of naughty Santa likes - he actually encourages it. Christmas has a naughty little mistress and she will get all the presents on her wish list this year.

Inventing a lamp - and the bud of a great story

Our sons bedroom was quite a project before he was born (and well... it still is). It had to be painted and cleaned up before he arrived. And quite right - a couple of hours after I made my finishing touches on the clouds decorating the blue ceiling, Atlas decided to show up. Now it's only those lovely details left. For instance all the flying objects that is going to decorate his bedroom sky.

I've (with no success - Amazon and other internet stores don't send their goods to Norway) been looking for a model airplane (one of those old bi-planes) to hang from the ceiling. And I've been looking for a lamp that resembles the sun, but at the same time isn't too "cartoonish" - hard to find that too. Last, but not least, I've been making this hot air balloon out of a simple lamp from Ikea.

I painted it, and was going to attach an "ordinary" basket to it, but then I thought, "where is the fun in that", found myself a small toy lion baby and attached it to the balloon instead. Think of all the amazing stories I can make out of that! "The little lion Karl was playing outside the circus tent where his father was at work, when he suddenly saw this amazingly big balloon floating just a few inches above ground..." or "It was soon night fall. The savannah seamed to disappear into infinity. The only sound you could hear was the sound of four small, sand coloured, running paws..."

I'll write that story - and Atlas is going to be the first one to hear it. He'll know the little lion will be safe till the story ends, cause it's floating, in air, inside the warm safety of his bedroom.

Coffee and embraces

Suddenly he fell asleep and I hurried to the kitchen to make myself some breakfast and to brew that ridiculously delicious, big cup of coffee. I never know for how long his morning naps will last, so I hurry to sit down with a slice of bread with smoked turkey and mayo. And then there is no more hurrying.

Coffee and I have a date each morning and we relax. All unsorted messy tasks of the day slowly get sorted and look simpler in my head. Coffee never made me more awake, but it does make me more excited about the tasks of the day. I would go as far as to say it makes me a bit "high" - more creative, positive and energetic.

A couple of weeks ago they announced on the news that according to a study (by some folks at Harvard School of Public Health. 50.000 women involved), women who drinks coffee are less depressed than women who don't. I really get that! Coffee is a drug, and a really good one. People ought to get prescriptions on it (in addition to not getting depressed, according to the study, people who drink it are less likely to get Parkinson's disease).

So, I pour myself yet another cup - write this last sentence, feel the tingling feeling of coffee getting to work in my brain, and start to long for my tiny, very adorable son to wake up and the rest of the day coming towards to embrace me.

Early sunday breakfast

Breakfast is my absolute favourite meal - hence me referring to a breakfast experience, once again. I love them - the breakfasts. In all the shapes they come in. Rich, thin, coffee-filled, simple, healthy, short, long or just the ordinary weekday ones. Sunday breakfast though, is my favourite. The early kind in particular, with loads of time at hand.

For this one we had to take the boat to Denmark, get up really early, walk a kilometre with the fog sneaking in on us between harbour buildings, to end up sitting down on the top floor at a seaside town hotel.

It's the calmness maybe, and the silence, that is so appealing with the sunday breakfasts. At this hotel restaurant we ate sitting in chairs that were trendy in the eighties, listening to Katie Melua singing calmly from the loudspeakers (a strange combination; feeling the interior has taken you back a couple of decades while you at the same time are listening to temporary music).

Freshly brewed coffee accompanied dark, Danish ryebread with brie cheese and blackberry jam on top (ooh, heaven). The food was followed with some small talk about wind energy and outdated furniture, as we leaned back in our mint coloured wicker chairs and just enjoyed a couple of minutes - the feeling of sunday breakfast.

Sweet, hot and healthy - "how to"

Today I'm offering you a delicious recipe on sweet, hot and healthy. This "how to" will make your foggy, rainy and cold weekend mornings a little sunnier, softer and comfortable - promise!

The breakfast muffins are absolutely at their best a couple of minutes after you've taken them out of the oven, and they work just as well for lunch or dinner. They'll make your day even happier if you have some colourful muffin tins to put them in - and a friend to enjoy them with.

Whole grain muffins (12 of them)
3 eggs
50 g sugar
2 tbs vanilla-flavoured sugar
2 pinches grated lime- or lemon peel
80 g melted butter or margarine
60 g grinded almonds
100 g whole grain flour
1 tsp baking powder

Before you start, turn on the oven and adjust the temperature to 200 degrees celsius. Whip egg, sugar and vanilla-flavoured sugar light and creamy. Add butter, lemon-/lime peel, almonds, flour and baking powder and stir until the mix is smooth. Pour into muffin tins and bake the muffins in the oven for 25 minutes.

A slice of birthday cake

Birthdays are still magic to me. I always wake up, birthday morning, feeling like I'm the queen of the day and that the world therefor evolves around me. Selfish, yes, but really efficient when it comes to enjoying the day.

There was no exception when i turned thirty a couple of days ago. I was really looking forward to the day. Exited about exploring the feeling of having thirty attached to me. Was I going to feel too old, young, too unaccomplished, or empowered, depressed, very grown? As I went from being twenty-something, to thirty, I'm a bit surprised to say, I actually felt more defined. Like I left that undefined "something" in "twenty-something" behind, and suddenly existed, more definitely.

The day turned out as good as it could, after a night with only three ours sleep (because of a sudden insomnia attack on my son). I got presents from my wish list, enjoyed good food and coffee and spent time with people I love. It tasted like a slice of birthday cake. Layered and just as magic and sweet. Leaving you wanting more and feeling just a little sleepy because of the sugar rush. And just for the record: I'm still the queen of the magic day, the first of november.