One Soft Kiss

This Sunday marks the third anniversary of Astri and I getting married.  Looking back, the only days that compare are the births of our six children.  I revel in the idea of looking forward with Astri.  I've seemed to have changed many times over the years; each time I feel I became a better man.  Working through the personal errors, challenging my character when it needed it...I feel I am the best man now that I've ever been. It is a blessing is to have become that man by the time I found Astri.  Knowing that I've become an even better man over the four years we've known each other.  I hope the man I have become will find a continued path; that there is an avenue in Astri's life and in those of our children where this man will have served a purpose...beyond just just a repository for berlinakranser and Astri's carrot cake! <wink>

A couple of years before I met Astri I was feeling a bit creative.  Being a scientist that doesn't happen often, so when it does I need to take full advantage of it.  I am a thinker...and a talker.  At times it is not such an easy act for me to put my thoughts down in prose.

During that "creative" time I was thinking about where I was in my life and where I wanted to be.  Relationships are always a part of that...be it work, personal, or those with our children.  I just happen to start thinking about the freshness of a new relationship.  We have all heard the song "It's in his kiss."  I was thinking about that first kiss, and really how important it is, a memory we never want to let go of.  I asked myself what I would want in that first kiss.  What is below is what I came up with:

After expressing it on paper I found a lady to transcribe it in the calligraphy you see above.  I rolled it up into a tube and put it away.  Then I met Astri.  Our first kiss was exactly as I had written.  One evening I pulled it out and showed it to her (THE POEM!!!).  She had had the same feeling as I described in the poem also.  I had never displayed the poem before, but after our wedding we framed it with a photo from our $35 wedding.  The memory just keeps getting better and better.  I love my Astri!

What the Hell is That???

Okay...Astri and I need some help.

Astri was taking a few photos for her blog that were related to the Norwegian pewter plates she has collected for many years.  The artist passed away a short time ago, so no new plates are to be made.  She just completed her set with the very first plate in the collection...a hard find.

The first picture below is a simple photo of a few of the plates above our fire place.

Now...this is where we need help.  Immediately after this photo was taken I sat down on a piece of furniture just to the left of the photo area.  Astri took another photo from the SAME spot less than one minute later.  The top of my head can be seen in the lower left hand corner of the wall mirror.  But...what the hell is that behind my head!!!  We have spent hours trying to figure it out...showed it to some of our kids, etc.  We have no idea what it is...can you help????

A weird spirit behind me?

Here is a closer shot of the mirror photo.  Our youngest is really creeped out by it.

Rosin Up That Bow

In an earlier post I made a brief comment about how it is nearly impossible for American's not to laugh at certain words (Norwegian in this case) that sound like a reference to some bodily function. (Festivals)  I have another one.  This one relates to a geographical region of Norway...Hardanger.  I think 99.9% of the world would say, "What? I don't get it."  Well, let me refine my assumption...most American males are chuckling now.

The first time I heard that word I chuckled like a 12 year old boy.  But as I began to see photos of the Hardanger region and fylke, that childish chuckle eventually left (most of it) and was replaced by an awe of the areas beauty.  Now, I have another reason to admire the use of the Hardanger name.

Astri and I attended a Scandi Jam dance workshop last evening.  The various dances are a hoot...a lot of fun...as long as I don't have to spin more than three consecutive times; then the next step in the dance is me picking myself up off the floor.  At one point of the Scandi Jam two young men appeared with Hardingfeler...Hardanger fiddles.

I am not even going to TRY to explain much about their differences, but a line or two here will represent my entire knowledge.  I am posting simply because I was impressed with their beauty and sound.

Having spent most of my life in Texas, listening to a fiddle was tantamount to enjoying the culture.  Watching the likes of artists like Doug Kershaw, Charlie Daniels, and Mark O'Conner rosining up their bow, hair from the bow flying in all directions as they worked their "axe" is a life event on its own.  Similarly I love the sound of a smooth violin playing the likes of Vivaldi.

The hardingfele is a very different animal however.  Imagine a Stradivarius violin and a set of Scottish bagpipes having a "love child."  Underneath the set of four playing strings there are an additional four or five strings that run under the neck and are tuned, to much different tones than a standard fiddle/violin.  These sympathetic strings resonate as the other strings are played, adding a haunting, echo-like sound.  The sound is very unique to parts of Norway.  That "haunting" sound I mention was, however, enough for churches in the 1800's to compare the instrument to the devil, have hardingfele burning parties, and outlaw them still in many churches.

One point of interest is that the hardingfele (actually an interesting item to google) in the photos above are made by a gentleman here in Orem, Utah (just south of Salt Lake City).  I understand it is the only shop in North America to make these fiddles, and there are about 200 to 300 hours of craftsmanship put into each one. There is an incredible amount of inlay work using mother-of-pearl and abalone shell on the fingerboard, highly decorated with inked trim around the body, and a lion's head as part of the scroll at the top of the pegbox.

I'm not sure I could listen to one for same amount of time I can to a classic violin or cajun fiddle...but for the amount of time I can Scandi dance until I get dizzy and fall down...the timing is perfect.