Our local primary school, Lunde skule, up for a potential close-down in the upcoming Tuesday’s local council meeting, whereby all attempts at attracting newcomers to our small community will be utterly futile – unless they’re aiming for senior citizens (for whom, of course, schools are totally irrelevant – or is that per chance stating the obvious?).
Lake Vevatne (or the Vevatnevatnet, rather) is supposed to be holy, allegedly the scene of human sacrificing in pagan times, according to local folklore. Whether or not either is true, I honestly do not know. At any rate, the lake is abysmal, or so they say. Add to that the generally gloomy weather, and you’ve got yourself a nice foundation for an excellent horror movie.
For a period of six weeks before and six weeks after winter solstice (i.e. a total of twelve weeks) there’s absolutely no sun in these parts, due to the surrounding mountains, save for the occasional glimpse, in the outskirts of that time frame, such as the above photograph, taken exactly two weeks ago today. There probably wouldn’t be any sun without the mountains either, mind you. But that’s due to general weather conditions, mainly. Clear, blue sky today, for the first time in a fortnight.
I hear there’s much ado about a few snowflakes back home (in Oslo) this afternoon. Truth be told, I’m a little puzzled, as traditions would have it that snow is sparse in the western parts of our country, whereas the east and north are abundantly blessed. Not any more, it would seem. Granted I hesitate to call this (above picture, shot this morning) a winter wonderland, but at least we beat my home town big time.
Winter’s first snow, shot only minutes ago. In all fairness, the very first flakes fell Friday morning, resulting in an even thinner layer of white. But who’s counting.
Today is calm, with a thin layer of winter’s first snow, but we’ve had a stormy week, taking its toll on flags and such, such as these two (out of three) outside the Bunnpris supermarket in Lunde yesterday. They have since been taken down, after serving a full 16 months (the supermarket launched on 2 July last year).
An extreme close-up of the fog outside – this instance. Droplets made visible by forced flash, instantly reflected in the minuscule, wet entities. Taken with my Nokia N8, comme d’habitude.
Fruits and vegetables deemed off. We’re too good to be eating this kind of rubbish, no?
Yup, screw the Horn of Africa.
I’m beginning to get a little worried about our small community’s vastly excessive drinking habits, what with the recent Oktoberfest, the intermediate drinking and the upcoming, infamous crab feast later on this month. And now even a pub night this upcoming Saturday.
Woe is us.
Today’s weather conditions.
I know I’ve been posting a lot of aerial photographs (in reverse) lately. In my defence, there’s really not much else to blog in these parts, so bear with me, please.
We have a brand new mayor this coming Tuesday; my good friend (hell, everybody’s good friend) Kjetil Hestad, a through and through stand up guy, constantly flashing his thumbs – representing Norwegian Labour. Which of course made it all the more tempting to make a 1930s-style poster, to indicate that our island is going red as the redest menace (or would be, had it been the 1930s still).
Way to go, Kjetil! We’re flashing our thumbs, too!
This instance.
My apologies for the poor quality, mobile shoot in the dark and all. Still better than no video at all, methinks.
The neighbourhood derelict greenhouse converted into a Bavarian beer tent last Saturday night, in a bid at pulling off an Oktoberfest, Bavaria-style. And successfully so, I might add (see this page for more mobile shots).
Today is the crow and magpie Oktoberfest, it would seem, undoubtedly based on the remnants of German sausage and meat.
This used to be a petrol station when my father-in-law was a boy, would you believe, currently used as a storage facility of sorts.
Of course, we’re much better equipped nowadays.
I apologise most sincerely for last Thursday’s misleading photograph, depicting an impeccable, clear blue sky. The day will, undoubtedly, go down in our community’s annals as a day to remember, however uneventful – comme d’habitude.
This, on the other hand, gives a far more accurate impression of weather conditions in these parts – on a regular basis.
Yay…
