The ice cream man is universal.  His jangely call echoed throughout my little hamlet today.  Spring has sprung!

See these pills?  They are magic, MAGIC I tell you!  After 5 years of sometimes debilitating back pain, these OTC (in Europe) wonders keep it in check.  If I can't get a scrip in the US - well, someone needs to step up and be my supplier.

The last few times I have taken the train in and out of the city, I thought my eyes were playing tricks in me. I could've sworn I saw music notes carved in the snow and ice. Then, I saw a treble clef - a design so complicated it could not be just an interesting, natural melting pattern. I started paying attention and yep - there they are - the staffs of a line of music. Today, at dusk, I saw several people out on the ice, patiently recarving the lines of the music. It made me smile in a way I haven't in many days.

I want to believe those people were spontaneously sharing their music because they know the power of a melody. And I want to thank them for reminding me to smile.

I've had a difficult few weeks. I received the message from home I had dreaded for months.  I made it back in time to say a long goodbye to my father, who I loved beyond words.  My siblings and I honored his last wishes, for the most part, and gave him a send off on his bayou.  His passing truly marked a turning point in my life as well as that of my extended family.  He however, would not want me to shed too many tears over him, but when have I ever really minded any one?  ;)

By the time I returned to Oslo this week, spring was peeking timidly out of the snow.  The sun and sky are brilliant. If I listen closely as I walk through the woods, down the hill to the train station, I can hear the ground thawing. A true spring, a changing of seasons, is something I've never really experienced.  As I walked to the store (without a coat!) this afternoon, I realized why Norwegians love Easter so much and take the entire week as a holiday - not only to ski one last time before the final melt, but to celebrate the cycle of life as the greening begins to the chirping of baby birds. 

Mr. Posten man delivered sweet surprises in my mailbox yesterday!  One was a "stained glass" heart made by me nephews which now graces my picture window so the sun can strike it almost continuously as it travels across the sky. The package I was expecting from home home also arrived - and inside was a Memphis calendar from my in-laws. (really, they are my son's girlfriend's grandparents, but we might as well be family at this point!)  I need to acquire a thumbtack so I can pin it to the wall to remind me every day I have people who love me, however far away they are.

The past two weeks have been a whirlwind of travel - not simply with the school visits, but with vacations as well.  I traveled to the Arctic again - Finnsnes, near Senja.  Still no Northern Lights.  I dashed back to make it to the Fulbright Seminar, where all the grantees discussed their work so far.  I feel unworthy in their company - so many innovative, impressive projects. Everything from algae to e-poetry to Somali immigration and Norwegian as a second language in the Sami culture.  *OVERWHELMED*  That was followed by dinner with the US ambassador.  THEN - we all boarded a bus and traveled past Lillehammer to the Skeikampen resort for a ski weekend.

The scenery was spectacular - and the food at the buffet was delicious.  It is amazing how hungry cross country makes you.  How do I know?  I skied. Yes yes - I know it's far-fetched, but I did.  Not well, but I survived mostly intact.  No bruises - unlike my sledging escapade at New Year's.  I could not have done it without the instruction and encouragement of my "ski instructors," Judi and Rena.  Will I do it again - ummmm.  Maybe.  Downhill - no.  I can not envision myself hurtling down a mountain with 2 inch wide slats of wood attached to my feet and two sticks to guide me. But I definitely have a new respect for skiers.  Exhausting.  My Norwegian muscles still hurt.

I've marveled at the incredible shade of blue the sky here.  It's seems so much clearer and purer than the bluest of the blue skies back home. (Sorry North Carolina, you've got nothing on Norway.)  Alas - that blue is hard to find in Oslo these days.  There is light, and sometimes sun, but the stunningly clear blue February sky of Stavanger is not to be had. There have been some other stunning sights, though.  The snow, heavy and fluffy, on the branches of the trees and bushes makes the whole world in to a Currier and Ives print.

As beautiful as the winter can be, I long for spring. For skirts, not tights, and blue skies with puffy white clouds. Crawfish and impromtu jam sessions in the living room, laughter and the clink of glasses, the crack of the bat against the ball. Mexican food on a patio, with a March wind whipping Susan's napkin across the parking lot. But for now, I'll settle for a Norwegian blue.

This past week was very full - I left for Trondheim on Monday.  My destination was actually a small town about an hour south, southwest of the city, called Orkanger, which is in the Orkdal municipality.  I arrived just around 6 in the evening  and had been assured there would be bused traveling to and from Orkanger well into the evening.  I had a minor panic attack when the only sign I could find at the bus terminal said the last bus left an hour before my arrival.  I walked to the train station, dragging my suitcase, only to find there were no trains to Orkanger and no one manning the bus terminal.  The young woman behind the ticket counter was able to find a schedule which indicated there WERE buses going to Orkanger every hour, just at a different platform.  OK - bus to Orkanger found.

When I got to Orkanger, the hotel, Hotel Baardshaug Herregaard, was  lovely - nestled at the foot of the mountains. It usually hosts conferences and events such as weddings.  It has been expanded several times,with the original building a manor home of a prominent architect and business man, Christian Thams. Many of his mass-produced designs for cottages, schools, and churches are framed and displayed on the walls. Based on those, I think many of houses I see along the Oslofjord as I take the train into the city are his designs.  If it were possible, I'd like have one myself - as a vacation home in Europe. (ha ha ha - heeeee!  That's a good one!)

I returned to Trondheim and was at Trondheim Katedralskole Wednesday and Thursday. The school is the oldest in Norway, founded in the early 1100s as an adjunct to the cathedral which served as the episcopal seat of the Church in Norway for centuries.  The visit went well, but the highlight was a huskonsert organized by the students.  They have waiting lists of students, many of whom are interested in the arts program.  After listening to these students, I can wee why.  A poem followed by piano, cello, french horn (which as FABULOUS!) and oboe pieces. Just amazing.  And apparently, these concerts are held once a month - I would love to see Snowden and Central, where my kids go to school, do something similar.  What a way to showcase the talents of the students!  (of course, for some of the students, it was obvious it was nerve-wracking to perform in front of their friends!)

One constant I heard in this visit was the lack of snow.  Which boggles MY mind, but apparently the 3-4 inches on the ground is not normal, nor enough for cross-country skiing, which not only is a fave past time, but a considerable source of tourist kroner in Orkanger.  Of course, it's snowing in Oslo.

I've had a busy week - visiting several schools.  I started the week in Bodø, which if you don't remember my post from the fall, is above the Arctic Circle.  It was actually WARMER in Bodø than in Oslo.  The area is one of National Geographic's Top 20 trips for 2013.  (As is, of course, Memphis.) It was overcast the ENTIRE time I was there, and I was denied Northern Lights.  Again.  I only have one or maybe two more trips to the north planned so I better get to see them -  seriously - 7 trips to the Arctic, including one to Svalbard and no Northern Lights?!  That's so not fair!

I returned from the not quite as frozen as Oslo Arctic and made a repeat visit to Nydalen, which is in the north of Oslo.  It is a very large, very modern school.  The contact teacher, James, is originally form Alabama.  He is on sabbatical for the rest of the year, so I didn't have to listen to him crow about the Tide.  Thankfully.  Tom, who is taking the classes, and I had a fantastic discussion after class about gun control, politics, food, and the cruelty of parents who give their children horrific names.  Now that I have visited every English class at the school, alas, I won't return.  (although I may go to see if I can get a good picture of their upside down bear again - I want one of him with snow!)  I literally left the school, went home, picked up my suitcase, and was off again.

I took the train to Porgsrunn, which is about 3 hours south of Olso by train.  it is a very old city, and home to Norway's on china factory.  It traditionally served as the port for the nearby city of Skien, which is a little further up the Telemarksvassdraget River. It's large by either American or Norwegian standards, but it is a vital industrial center.  What I was able to see was lovely - the river runs through the town, and I could only imagine how spectacular the scenery was in spring, given how lovely it was in winter.  I didn't get to visit the china factory, but there was talk of having me visit again in April, so hopefully I'll see it then.  And maybe I'll be able to take some pictures as well. 

The teachers at the schools I visited this week were incredibly generous!  The week started with a book - always a winner with me!  It was a Norwegian best seller that has been translated into English, as well as other languages. "The Half Brother" tells the story of a Norwegian family struggling with personal tragedies in post-war Norway into the present era.  Last Sunday, the first installment of a mini-series of the book premiered on Norwegian TV.  The book is supposed to be a fantastic and realistic look into the development of post-war Norwegian society.

The "saft," or soda flavor, tea (I wish you could smell it - and it's named after the great Norwegian polar explorer, Roald Amundsen) jelly, and chocolate candies are from another school.   All the products are made in Norway and I am assured reflective of Norwegian tastes.   I hope they all taste as wonderful as they smell and look! 

The NEXT day, I was gifted with "flowers."  The teacher had them wrapped in in layers of paper, not only for ease of transport, but to protection from the cold. (Why it is warmer above the Arctic Circle than in Oslo is a question no one can answer for me.)  The school was about an hour and half north of the city, so I waited until I got home to open the package.  As I unwrapped the layers of newspaper and butcher's paper, I gasped when I realized it was a potted hydrangea with flowers as white as, well, snow.  Absolutely beautiful.  The teacher had no way of knowing how much I love hydrangeas.  My absolutely favorite flower, second only to purple irises, which remind my of my grandmother.  Every house I have ever lived in - from Louisiana to Georgia to North Carolina, Illinois, and Tennessee - all had hydrangeas in the yard.  A very welcome reminder of home.

The humidity has been hovering around 100% but the temperatures has stayed right at or just above freezing, depending how high up a mountain you are.  The air seems to be full - you can see the moisture, hanging in the air.  It's almost the reverse of the Deep South - where the air literally weeps with moisture, but it's not raining.  A blanket of thick, frozen fog hovered over the valley below my apartment -which was stunning at sunset.