There’s plenty of summer left! I’ve been clinging to this mantra for a while now. Just a few days ago, Hjerte and I were on the beach. The water temperature was still 21 degrees and the future looked bright.
August is a SUMMER month (!) I hiss to anyone who tries to suggest that it’s time to dig out the woolen jumpers and underwear.
But here they are already; the days with the cold draft in the air. The floor feels cold against my feet in the mornings. My mantra of “plenty more summer to come”, must give way to an endless series of panicky “No No No No No No No No No” in my head. I’m not ready!
But there is always someone worse off.
Like my neighbor from Kiellands, a surfer from the Caribbean who strayed to Norway because of love. The greatest of all is love, so they say. But is it always worth it? I believe this is a question that many an immigrant to our beautiful country has asked themselves, when the summer is inexorably over.
The surfer and I had a coffee in connection with my buying paint at Fargerike in Kiellands Hus. Because obviously, if it’s paint or tomatoes or flowers or sushi I need, it’s certainly most convenient to pop into the “neighboring shops” 13.8 kilometers away. (My separation anxiety subsides, but there may be a small trace left, what do you think?).
Anyway, he was discouraged by the change in weather. More than me, in fact. In the winter, he falls into a deep winter depression and never moves outside unless it concerns work – or life or death situations.
“You need to approach this completely differently”, I recommended. “You should engage in winter activities with your family! Make sure you wear enough warm clothes. And no – you don’t wear enough clothes when you’re cold! (Many people think they wear enough clothes, but enough clothes would mean being able to go out and not freeze. It should be possible! Note to both self and others…).
“Just learn to love it and go more outside!” I urged enthusiastically.
“Oh, I promise I’ll be more outside this year“, he replied. “Outside Norway“, he clarified laconically.
What could I say? Other than accusing him of being a bit silly to hate such an important season of the country he has voluntarily moved to.
“I don’t hate Norway in the winter“, he said. “I just love to leave it!”.
Point taken…
After a rather disappointing July, weather-wise, I thought to myself that being in Norway in the summer months is not all that it’s cracked up to be. But now that I feel that winter is on the way, I think to myself: what’s a little rain compared to minus 25 degrees and a blizzard?
Perhaps the smartest thing we can do (at least those of us who do not love to go skiing with our red nose tips), is to be more “outside” this coming winter.
Outside of Norway, that is…
(PS! The artist behind the self-portrait that illustrates this post, has chosen not to be credited, for fear of hate comments and reprisals. He was not reassured even though I said that the winter cold will not set in our Viking hearts until October 1st at the earliest.)
