That Wedding in Norway ...

My beautiful friend was married yesterday, here in Norway. 

Her wedding was a wedding that reminded me of just how huge love can be.  Love was present in every single speech made, every performance given, every dance. 

There was the groom's speech ... the one that made me cry, despite the fact I didn't understand one word of Norwegian.  He undid so many of us, including his wife.

And the bride's speech, that overflowed with a beautiful humility and a massive love that, again, filled my eyes with tears.

Then the bridesmaid and the bride, who spoke so beautifully of their exquisite friendship ... and the son to his mother, and her new husband, another speech that almost made my poor little heart crack open.

And on it went.

But it wasn't just about the obvious.  My table for the evening was full of the kindest, funniest people.  I was so grateful to them for opening their circle to include me, and even more grateful for the laughter ... and the impromptu lessons in Norwegian.

As I sit here this morning, in this sun-filled house that quietly hums with family conversation and smells of good coffee, contemplating the 300+ photographs I'm about to process ... I'm happy.  Quietly peacefully happy.

It's been another truly grand adventure.

I'm here until Wednesday...

Surrey, and these amazing women ...

Tonight, thanks to Cathy, I found myself sitting in her lounge with a most marvelous group of women. 

We came from Macedonia, Sweden, America x2, England, France, Bulgaria and New Zealand. 

And I found myself adoring both them, and their stories. 

There was so much laughter.  I had met some of them last week, and enjoyed them already.  Tonight was just MORE.

I love that, that where ever I go in the world, I find these marvelous women.  Full of stories and laughter, and kindness and this incredible fellowship ... from the road perhaps but from being women too.

And one of the other marvelous things I'm enjoying about England, are the charity shops.  It's how I met Cathy.  She runs one of them but ... it's also how I met this exquisite Italian L Medici handbag, Italian leather, built to last forever ...  that I so very much couldn't afford in real life but couldn't resist in the world that is secondhand here in Surrey. 

It was beyond reasonable and, just by way, it fits 3 bottles of red wine inside of itself, so very easily.

Another Day That Sparkled Here in Surrey ...

I'm trying to write of this quiet sparkle I find in my days, so often, here in England.  It's when a day slowly fills with delightful people and things. 

Today there was the small boy who makes me laugh, a kind woman who is so thoughtful, a brisk walk into the village - delighting in how easy it is to stride out and cover distances quickly.  (My anemia moment is over but not easily forgotten). 

There was a trip to the next village with the loveliest man.  He's one of two drivers on a small bus I catch here and, both of them, they make me smile too. 

And then wandering in the village I call my city.  It's tiny but it's bigger than where I currently live.  There are 3 charity shops, filled with the most magnificent books that cost about a pound.  It's heaven.

Today though ... today I splashed out on the irresistible tea cup and saucer I found there.  Espresso cup and saucer really, the Wedgwood kind.  So very very affordable secondhand.  I took one and these two delightful elderly woman kind of descended on me and said, 'But you're only taking one?!' There are two!'

And then the volunteer working in the shop, joined in, laughing ... all of them telling me not to listen to them but who could resist, I thought to myself.

They were so sweet and funny and kind, that I bought the second one, and I'm not regretting it.

I said, 'but I live alone'. 

And they said, 'Yes, but when you find someone ... ' 

I love the people I'm meeting in England.  They are some of the sweetest ever, anywhere.  In 5 months, I've met no one horrid. 

And then I strode home again, stopping in at the cafe run by the French woman, here in my village.  I have my photography workshop venue, and she makes the most exquisite Mille Feuille - my occasional treat actually.

It's a been a good day, full of good people.

I love when that happens.

Neil Finn ... & an instant trip back to my childhood

Obviously we didn't have quite the divine guest list as seen in the music video ... so many of New Zealand's greatest sporting folk drop in but this video captures so much that I recognise from my Kiwi childhood.

Those Mousetraps ... the grated cheese, egg and onion, maybe some tomato, on toast, baked and/or grilled.  Sometimes burned.  Hot milk Milo, friends over, furniture moved, mad crazy joy as instructions were shouted at the game on TV.

Martin introduced me to the song and he recognised 'home' too. 

Remembering Good Food and Good Friends

Last week ... this was the dinner starter at Il Genovese. 

It's a little of this, a little of that, to be shared between five.  Outi, my Finnish friend living in Liguria.  Alessandra and Davide, lovely Italian friends from Genova.  And Gabrielle, my Australian client, the one who has become a lovely friend too.

The food was exquisite ... of course, and the company.

Today finds me at my desk and working, back here in Belgium, freezing.  I'm wearing Fiona's hand-knitted woolen rainbow socks and warm clothes.  It's grey, cold and raining, and I remembered this photograph.

Mmmhmmm, I just had peanut butter on toast and a coffee for lunch.

I miss Genovese food. 

Christmas ... as experienced by Antipodeans

I love this song, it makes me all teary every year when I'm missing home like hell because a northern hemisphere Christmas can only ever be a rotten-Dunedin-weather-kind-of-Christmas. 

I grew up near Dunedin, on the east coast of the lower South Island - situated around 40 degrees south in latitude.  We had some appalling weather some of our Christmas days. 

Anyway, Tim Minchin is an Australian living in London and he wrote this song for his baby daughter.  It started out amusing then startled me as he simply captured what Christmas is like in the lands downunder.  My mum loved her white wine in the sun.  Socks, jocks and chocolates was all Dad ever wanted for Christmas.  Later it became about golf tees and golfballs.

There's so much fuss about religion this Christmas but for me, it's simply about family and spending time with people you love.  Red wine in the sun would be quite fine with me, back home with my brothers and sister, my Dad and my nieces.  But this year ... we are 5 here in Belgium, and that's okay too.

Anyway, a little bit of Tim ...