Friday, April 25, 2014

Såååå kjedelig!

Jeg har 5 barn. Og de er som barn flest av 2014, eksperter på data, Playstation, Wii, mobil, Nintendo o.l. Når jeg forteller dem at de tingene ikke fantes da jeg var liten, ser de på meg som om jeg er et romvesen. Eller: Hva slags dinosaur er du egentlig!? Og stillheten varer en lang stund mens de står der og bare stirrer på meg mens de fortvilet prøver å forstå betydningen av det jeg har fortalt. Så kommer spørsmålet, i en vantro tone: "Det må ha vært såååå kjedelig! Hva i allverden gjorde dere da, mamma?!" 

Jeg begynner å liste opp barndommens aktiviteter, som å leke cowboy og indianer, bygge trehytter, være detektiv i vår egen lille detektivklubb  som vi kalte DTD for De Tre Detektivene (Jepp! Veeldig kreativ). Og jeg må innrømme at jeg ikke nevnte for barna mine at jeg klatret bratte topper med et tau løst bundet til et spinkelt tre, klatret opp på en tunnelåpning og dinglet med bena over bilene(unnskyld mamma og pappa), syklet lange distanser og visste av og til ikke hvor vi var, dro til en innsjø et stykke unna og lekte flåte med et stykke isopor som såvisst ikke var stødig, samlet pulver som var igjen i rakettene etter nyttårsaften og tente på pulveret - da begynte foten til kameraten min å brenne og han fikk beskjed om aldri å leke med oss igjen. (Unnskyld igjen, mamma og pappa for alt vi gjorde som vi ikke skulle gjort - det var ikke deres feil! Men vi hadde det fryktelig morsomt da vi gjorde det og alt gikk heldigvis noenlunde bra).

Kort sagt, vi koste oss utendørs med mange aktiviteter, og det var sjelden kjedelig. Og hver søndag tok pappa oss med på søndagsturer, enten til et fint sted i naturen eller til et historisk sted. Og tenåringssomrene mine ble brukt på en seter i fjellet uten vann og strøm der jeg hjalp til å gjete kuer og passe småsøsken, gikk lange turer i fjellene, svømte i elven, red på hest og nøt livet i enkelhet og i Moder naturs fantastiske favn. Ingen kunne nå meg der. Ikke engang pr. brevpost. Det er nok utenkelig for de fleste tenåringer av idag...

Så, det jeg vil, er at mine barn skal få mere av de opplevelsene jeg selv hadde som liten. Så på mandag sa jeg til ungene at vi skulle til Halden og se på Fredriksten festning. Spørsmålene haglet tilbake: "Må jeg bli med? Hvorfor skal vi det? Hva i all verden skal vi gjøre der da?!"
Jeg svarte at vi skulle se oss litt rundt. "Det er kjeeedelig!"
Jeg prøvde meg på følgende svar: Hvorfor er det kjedelig? Dere ser jo på TV hele tiden. Det er nesten det samme, vi skal se, men vi skal se på det som er rundt oss istedet for på en skjerm. 
5-åringen min begynte å gråte: "Men det er kjeeeedelig! Jeg vil ikke bare se på et sted!"

Ja, ja. Uansett. Vi samlet sammen ungene og kjørte til Halden. Da vi hadde vært der en stund og sett på utsikten og festningen, spurte 9-åringen min om ikke vi kunne komme tilbake hit flere ganger. Og 5-åringen min innrømmet at hun hadde tatt feil når hun trodde det ville bli kjedelig. "Men da visste jeg jo ikke hvordan det var her og at det var så fin utsikt da, mamma!" Og de tre eldste snakket og lo mens de gikk omkring og  ingen av dem spurte om vi ikke kunne dra hjem snart. Tilslutt ble 5-åringen så sliten at vi to måtte legge oss ned på gresset mens vi ventet på at de andre skulle gå seg ferdig. Der lå vi i vårvarmen, så på den blå himmelen og pratet. Det ble en fin dag. Og det var ikke kjedelig for noen av oss.





Booooring!

I have 5 kids. And they are (as most kids of 2014) experts on the use of computers, iPads, mobile phones, Playstation, Nintendo, Wii etc. When I tell them those things didn´t even exist when I grew up, they just look like me like I am an alien. Or like: What species dinosaur are you really?! And the silence lasts for a long time while they stare, trying to soak in this unbelievable information.
Then they ask in a tone of wonder: "That must have been SO boring! What did you do then?!" I list up playing Cowboy and Indian in the forest, building wooden cabins high up in the trees, being a private detective in our club of three. The club was called TTD - the three detectives (Yap! Very creative).
I must admit, I fail to mention to my curious five that I climbed steep hillsides with a rope tied loosely around the smallest tree on the top, climbing on top of the tunnel top cited over a busy road, hanging our feet down looking down at the cars, biking long distances where we didn´t always know where we were, going to a lake a far bit away and playing with a piece we used as a raft(and not a good one at that), collecting the powder from used rockets after New Years Eve, lighting it (our friends foot caught fire and he was told never to play with us again) and just experiencing life outside for both good and bad.
But I can´t remember being bored a lot. And every Sunday, my dad used to take us for Sunday trips, either to a scenic place or an historic place. And the summers of my teenage-youth were used at a wee cabin in the mountains without power and water, looking after cows and my siblings together with my mum, climbing mountains, swimming in the river, riding a horse and just enjoying the simplicity of life and mother nature. There was no way for anyone to reach me. Not even by paper mail. Unthinkable for most teenagers in the year of 2014...
So, I want my kids to experience more of that. I told the kids we would go for a trip to a nearby city and see the fortress from 1666, there. The questions came bouncing back: Do I have to come? Why should we do that? What on earth are we going to do there?!
I answered that we would look at the fortress and the surroundings. "That is boring!"
I tried replying "Why? You look at the TV all the time. We will be doing the same thing, looking, only outdoors"
My 5 year old started crying "I don´t want to just look at some place! It is booooring!"
Oh, well. No matter. We rounded them up and got them in the car. Half an hour later we were there. And as we walked around the grounds, my 9-year old asked if we could come back. And my 5-year old admitted that she had been wrong in assuming to just look would be boring. "But I didn´t know there would be such good views, mum!" And my three oldest girls found their own ways around and seemed to be taking in the scenery in not such a boring way. Laughing and talking along the way. None of them asked if we could leave soon. Although my 5-year old did get tired at the end. So we lay down in the grass and talked and looked at the blue skies as the rest finished their walk around the grounds. It was a good day. And it was not boring for any of us.





Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Sweet Confections Blog Tour - my turn!



For the very first time, Danyelle Ferguson has published a fiction book, and I am among the lucky few to read it just as it came out of the oven. And it smells good! 
First off, the official book blurb, then I will invite you in to what I think of the book now as I have just put it down. (pst! Don´t miss out on the giveaway further down the page)

Sweet Confections (Indulgence Row series, #1) by Danyelle Ferguson


Book Blurb
According to Rachel Marconi chocolate heals all wounds. That and throwing darts at pictures of her ex-boyfriend. Burned by yet another bad relationship, Rachel decides to reprioritize her life, putting her dream to compete on a Food Network Challenge on the top of her list and dating at the bottom crossed out in red sharpie. But what's a girl to do when a certain sexy guy keeps asking her out?

Cue in Graydon Green, a former pro hockey player turned restaurant owner. After a lot of persistent and humorous teasing, he finally convinces Rachel to commit to a date. Just when things begin to warm up, threatening notes directed at Rachel arrive. When her bakery is vandalized, Graydon's protective streak goes on red alert. Is it her obsessive ex-boyfriend stalking her? Or maybe a challenger trying to sabotage the competition?
Either way, Rachel is definitely going to need more chocolate - perhaps drizzled over ice cream and devil's food cake. 





 My review
I knew nothing of the story before I started to read. The first sentence jumped out on me: “Life as a single chick sucked”. The oral way of writing starts straight away. And the choice of words tells me immediately that this will be a light, humorous tale. In my mind I picture an ordinary boy meets girl story where finally the girl no longer is a single chick who thinks life sucks. From A to B. Not too complicated. But no. It is not that simple.

Rachel, the red head with the accompanying temper, shows that side of her straight away, and we quickly learn her way of coping with life in general - food, in all shapes and forms, but most importantly in the form of cakes through her bakery, Sweet Confections. (We even get some of the recipes at the end of the book!) She breaks up with her boyfriend Nico the same night she meets a stranger for the first time, Graydon, who “rescues” her from her ex-boyfriend. They meet later by coincidence and a friendship begins to grow. But is Rachel really ready for a new romance? Can she trust men again? And more importantly, can she trust Graydon? Something bad seems to be happening around her increasingly. Who is out to hurt her? At the same time she is accepted to join a baking contest with her partner in cake-crime, Kristen. But all the time there is someone lurking in the shadows, not wanting her to succeed in life. But who is it?

It is easy to recognize oneself in the character of Rachel. There are a whole lot of us out here with the dream of running our own bakery, being able to produce wonderful pieces of heavenly taste.  But Rachel is more than a cake-perfect-woman, she is a real person, with anger, with quirks, with the tendency to put her foot in the mouth, to do things she regrets, but also a loving, warm and caring character. You definitely root for her through the book, hoping things will turn out at the end.
In short, I smirked and smiled and laughed while reading. And while reading I had to resist the temptation to check the end, to see who was responsible for what. 
In other words, if you have time to relax with an easy-to-read book with interesting characters, humor, love and a twist, Sweet Confections is for you!

Purchase Links
Also available on Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and iBookstore.


a Rafflecopter giveaway









About the Author

Danyelle Ferguson discovered her love for the written word in elementary school. Her first article was published when she was in 6th grade. Since then, she’s won several awards and her work has been published world-wide in newspapers, magazines and books.

Danyelle grew up surrounded by Pennsylvania’s beautiful Allegheny Mountains. Then she lived for ten years among the majestic Wasatch Mountains. She is currently experiencing mountain-withdrawal while living in Kansas with her husband and family. She enjoys reading, writing, dancing and singing in
the kitchen, and the occasional long bubble bath to relax from the everyday stress of being “Mommy.”




Saturday, April 12, 2014

Mid life crisis?!

My favourite card from my 40th birthday.



I might be experiencing a slight of midlife crisis. I usually have some grand thoughts that I like to blog about, but this time I will actually talk about my hair. Yap. This is (was) a picture of me some days ago:




I have had long black hair for many, many years now. And it has been ok. But now there is this thing about some of my hair turning a different shade of color. Against my will. It is starting to shine and sparkle so as to make me scared the magpies will be coming for me any second now. And many years ago, I promised myself that when I started turning grey, I would start colouring my hair lighter so as to make the transition more smooth. So this week, I had an appointment with the hairdresser. And I wanted to do something TOTALLY different. I mean, this is the time to experiment. It is not as fun when you are 60, so now is the time. 
The hairdresser brushed my hair and complimented my hair. Then she asked: "How do you want me to cut your hair?". I did not even have time to shape my lips to start taling begfore she cut me off and said sternly: "If you tell me you are cutting it short, I will refuse to cut your hair!".  I had to laugh because of her comment and indignation and could calm her down telling her I had no intentions of leaving the place with any kind of boyish hair. 

THIS is the kind of hair I would want to have:


(At the hairdresser, we thumb through books and point at hairstyles and color, and just choose. What if we could do that with the rest of ourselves? Not to mention our bodies. "I would like those kind of thighs, those kind of hips... and those cheekbones!". Then, 30 minutes later, we could walk out the door, just like that. *sigh* Oh, well. I guess it is a good thing that we can´t. We would all have looked like each other and there would be little originality in the world. So we just have to live with what and who we are. Just as well!)  

BUT then there was the case with my hair. What I wanted, was not what my hair wanted. I underwent decolorisation, but my black hair had no intention of letting go. Only spots here and there. So after a length of time and several tries, I finally sat in front of the mirrors with the weirdest hair ever. A little mousy brown/grey at the top, and a strange mix of brown and RED all round the rest. So we had to move to another plan: The rescue-this-horrible-hair plan. Filled in some color at the top, and some brown and light in between the rest. End result: Brownish hair with a hint of red. I tried to take a selfi of only the hair to show you how I ended up, but it wasn´t easy. These are the results:






In other words; way off. I am not becoming a PRO selfie photographer any time soon... Oh, well. I will post a proper picture later some time. 

"The happiest time in a woman´s life, are the years she is twenty nine. ".
Unknown

So ladies; time to enjoy our happiest years!

Katinka







40-års krise?

Dette var yndlingskortet mitt på 40-årsdagen. Av en eller annen grunn...


Ja, kanskje det er litt 40-års krise på gang? Jeg blogger som regel kanskje litt store tanker, men idag blir det noe så trivielt som håret. Jepp. For dette er (var) bilde av meg og mitt hår for kort tid siden:




I maaaange år nå har jeg hatt langt, svart hår. Og det har vært helt greit det, altså. Men nå begynner jeg å få sånne andre fargede hårstrå i håret. Det glitrer så snart skjæra tar meg hvis det fortsetter sånn, altså! Og for mange år siden lovte jeg meg selv at når jeg begynner å få mer grå hår, så skal jeg begynne å lysne håret mitt slik at det blir en litt mer naturlig overgang til grått hår. Så denne uken hadde jeg time hos frisøren. Og hadde lyst å gjøre noe HELT annerledes. Må jo eksperimentere nå! Ikke like kult når jeg blir 60, liksom. Hun som skulle klippe meg, børstet håret mitt og kom med noen hyggelige komplimenter. Så spurte hun meg: "Hvordan vil du jeg skal klippe deg?" Og før jeg i det hele tatt rakk å svare, skjøt hun raskt inn: " Hvis du sier nå at du skal klippe deg kort, så nekter jeg!"
Men snauklippe meg måtte hun åkke som. NOT! Jeg måtte le av kommentaren hennes før jeg beroliget henne med at noe guttefrisyre hadde jeg ingen planer om å ta med meg hjem.

Dette er noe sånt som jeg kunne tenkt meg:



(Tenk om det var som hos frisøren, vi ser på bilder, peker på det håret vi vil ha og så kan vi få det, men tenk om vi kunne gjøre sånn med ansiktet - og ikke minst kroppen. "DU, jeg tar sånne midjer, sånne lår og sånne kinnben". Så gikk det 30 minutter og vips gikk man sånn ut av døren. *sukk* Kanskje like greit at det ikke er sånn. Vi hadde nok lignet hverandre for mye og det hadde vært lite orginalitet i verden. Så vi får leve med oss som vi er. Like greit.)

MEN så var det dette håret mitt, da. Ønsket mitt ville ikke håret mitt være med på. Jeg undergikk avfargingsbehandling, men det sorte i håret mitt hadde ingen planer om å slippe. Bare flekkvis. Etter veldig lang tid og flere forsøk, satt jeg tilslutt foran speilet hos frisøren med kanske det rareste håret ever. Litt musegrått på toppen og en blanding av rødt og svart på sidene. Jadda. Lekkert! Så da måtte vi over på operasjon 2: redda håret - død eller levande! Inn med litt farge på toppen og litt lyst og brunt innimellom. Resultatet ble at jeg igår fikk brunt hår med rødt skjær. Prøvde å ta selfie av bare håret for å vise fargene, men det var ikke lett. Resultatene ser du her:






Med andre ord: fullstendig skivebom. Blir ikke profesjonell selfie-fotograf med det første...
Så da får du vente og se neste gang vi møtes! 

"Den lykkeligste perioden i en kvinnes liv er som regel de årene hun er niogtyve".
Så nå er det bare å være superduperlykkelig fremover!