Anything on this film?

Probably around ten years ago, I got this simple camera when I subscribed to Time magazine.
I used it a few times, for fun.
After all I had my Ricoh 5 for taking photos back then.

Now I found the camera in my old stuff, and before opening the cover, I took into consideration there might still be a film inside.
So it was!

Now the question is: Will there be any images on this film?
I will wait and see til I develop it.

Some more sweaters

This sweater, knitted by my mother around fifty years ago, if I remember right, was in a good enough shape to give as a gift to a friend.

A third sweater I gave as a present to my daughter-in-law Cheryl.
That sweater is a combination of both knitting and woven colorful bands and tin buttons.
It was made by my mother around forty years ago, when I was constantly talking about emigrating.
One day my mother said: "I will have to finish the sweater before you leave". That was the first sign that she had accepted my decision to emigrate.

One generation later, my son has emigrated to the States, so the sweater has now emigrated for a second time around.

Hope you will enjoy it, Cheryl!

The fish bone

In the summer when I was five or six, I was going by bus from Oslo in Norway to some place near Stockholm, Sweden, without my parents, with my little brother.
On this trip one of the passengers, an English-speaking tourist lost a box on the bus floor and out fell his artist tools.
With no knowledge of English I quickly helped him collect the stuff back into the box.
As a thank you, he gave me this fish bone, made in metal.

Now in 2008, it was a little rusty, and after photographing it - into the garbage bin it went.
The memory of a magic moment will stay with me.

How I did not become a knitter

It was no loss to humanity that I did not become a typical Norwegian knitter of sweaters, caps, mittens and socks.

This is the story I tell:

In fifth grade my best friend Nilla knitted a light blue sweater, with no pattern, all by herself.
I was very impressed and asked my mother if I too could knit my own sweater.
My mother and I went to a shop where I chose the pattern and my mother bought the yarn.

I started with one arm and probably knitted the first five centimeters.
Then my mother wanted to show me how it is done - before I understood what had happened , she had finished the whole arm.
And so it went.
My part in knitting this sweater was more or less non-existant.
But I loved the sweater and used it for many many years.


The historical arm of the sweater, also including some historical fraying of the sleeve.


Well, I have kept this sweater for around 45 years, but now, trying to downsize my life, I decided that this particular sweater, after being photographed, should be thrown in the garbage bin, and so it was.

Dust bunny = Hybelkanin

According to http://www.answers.com/ the definition of dust bunny in informal speech is "A mass of fine, dry particles of matter, especially hair and skin particles, that is formed by static electricity".

According to the Norwegian term "hybelkanin" the dustbunnies prefer to live in a "hybel" (small apartments for singles, students etc). Probably the oldfashioned honorable housewives would not be caught dead with one of those "pets" in their home.

In German, I just found out, they call it Staubmaus - a dust mouse.

In Swedish, it was written on the Norwegian Wikipedia, they call it "dammrotta" (dust rat).

Does the difference of terms in Swedish and German reflect the actual difference in sizes of those two, or just the fear?

PS. The above photo is NOT from my house :)

In a pajamas in front of the PC

One way to feel you have the day off work is to walk around in the morning in your pajamas.
In particular I feel great checking my email and writing on my computer dressed this way.
It is a time when I am in my own little world.
I find it very relaxing.

But now, at ten thirty in the morning, it is time to enter the world again....

Your clothes dangling from a gallow

In Norwegian we use the word "kleshenger" for a clothes hanger.

So far I have only thought about that word as being connected to a more neutral version of hanging up something.

Now, when I bought new wooden clothes hangers (I have this "thing" about wooden clothes hangers) in the Clas Ohlsson shop in Moss, the Swedish tag (shown above) made me rethink the the connection between the word "hanger" to the very aggresive word of "gallow" (galge).

Imagine your clothes being hanged in a gallow!

In my case, in a wooden gallow.