Tag Archives: Mon Cheri

Välkommen

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When the air is fresh and crisp as new snow.

A Fine Day For Moving Today

Portland is on its third day of snow. We are a city ill-suited to snow. Most people don’t know how to drive in it. We have lots of hills that are quite steep and can get slippery, we have bridges that get icy, and we have snow so seldom, there is no huge fleet of snow removal equipment nor deep knowledge of living with snow. I hunker down and so does my best friend, and we are both from snow country. She’s from Buffalo, I am from the Northwoods of Minnesota. We know snow.

I remember the first snowfall after I moved to Oregon. I was living way up in the Cascades, in a river valley, closed in my mountains, a deep canyon that ranged from 1/4 to a few miles wide. There were places where the road was carved into the canyon cliffs, with a fall down into the river below and there were wider valleys that made room for truck farming, but life centered on logging. It was rural, so I was surprised when I got a call saying school was closed and there was just a dusting of snow, barely two inches. I thought it was a prank and went to school anyway, discovering it was closed. Deciding to take advantage of a weekday off, I decided to drive to the State Capitol and take a tour.

It was then I discovered why they closed school for a light snowfall. Driving up one of the big hills, the traffic was so slow the cars lacked the speed that would keep them from sliding backwards, pulled by gravity on the slick highway. It was quite frightening, more frightening than anything that had ever happened to me in a car before. I managed to avoid them as I chugged up the hill, but it was nerve-wracking. I am sure they thought I was a speedster, but really, I just understood the laws of physics.
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The Story of Nisse

It's a Fine Day For Moving

“Where’s the measuring tape? Did you move it?”

“I didn’t touch it.”

“Must have been the Tomte.”


“Who ate the last piece of gingerbread.”

“Not me”

“The Tomtenisse, then.”


The Norwegian Nisse, the Swedish Tomtenisse or Tomte, and the Finnish Tonttu are always convenient when something is missing, though they also are credited with bringing good luck sometimes. Mostly though, they were seen as tricksters. My favorite story about the Nisse was one told to me by one of our old neighbors whose Norwegian accent was so strong that even the bears in his stories had accents. “The bear, he went, oomph-ya!”

So the village of Geiranger was beset by a Nisse who was constantly leaving the cattle gate open or letting the sheep loose in the square. He would toss pinecones down the chimney and put vinegar in the lemonade. He made them so unhappy, they decided to just pack up the whole town and move across the fjord to Hellesylt.

And so they did. With great stealth, because Nisse can be anywhere and everywhere, the people of Geiranger put their clothing and household items into barrels, to look like they were going to market. And then one day, as the Nisse was sleeping, they put all their stuff on carts, and drove all their pigs, sheep, and cattle to Hellesylt. The entire town moved in just one day. Every man, woman, child and mouse.

They slept that night, a righteous sleep of relief and exhaustion. It was hard to start over, but they were certain the Nisse, bound to the land, was left behind. But then, when they got up in the morning and went to draw water, who should they see relaxing on the well housing but Nisse, who stretched and smiled, and said, “It’s a fine day for moving.”

Mon Cheri Nisse Greta & Hans Red Rare @ Arcade
Ariskea Winter in Canada Cabin @ Arcade
Kalopsia Metal Deer @ Arcade
Rustica Charles Browne Xmas Tree

Hello Cold Weather

Hello Cold Days

December is here and that means Christmas! and The Arcade! and it is up for debate which is more exciting. It’s so easy to go the red and green route for the holidays, but I resisted, buoyed by the gorgeous Camellia lights from {anc} over in the corner. I went for pinks and turquoises, think Miami meets Idaho. I liberally used the edit menu to tint my furnishings just a bit and even retexture a few things such as the runner on the side table. I know it’s a blend of modern and traditional that should clash, but it doesn’t. I think of Simon de Pury when I decorate, “Be bold, be brave, be amazing.” Why not mix modern settees with traditional cupboards and folk art and deco end tables? If you can make harmony of contradiction, then it’s not just bold, it is amazing.

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Dear Santa I Can Explain – I FOUND The Baby

The Patchwork Lodge from PLAAKA at this round of Arcade is definitely one of the MUST HAVEs from this round. It’s a gorgeous light filled wonder and I only wish it was bigger. It’s truly lovely.

I’m taking the night off to relax in it’s rustic wonder, enjoying the view and relative peace of this space. Continue reading

I’m So Tired…

Tired of being admired…../sings in her best Madeline Kahn voice. I am tired though. My day has been exhausting. I’m worn out from people and things and the lack of them being what I want. So I’m to bed early, with some treats and my sleep mask designed to keep out the light until I decide it’s time for my day to start again. Continue reading

The Scents of Autumn

bags full of leaves are light as balloonsFirst things first, Strawberry Singh wrote an important post about an ongoing fraud happening in SL right now. You should read it to best protect your own account. Of course, a good rule of thumb is not to execute or agree to anything from objects given to you by strangers. While it’s not true that you can never cheat an honest person, it is true that if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
bags full of leaves are light as balloons
So autumn is here. Here in Oregon, it’s raining, bringing sweet relief from the heat and let us hope, from the fires that are destroying so much habitat in the Pacific Northwest and California. Here in SL, though, there are no fires and the rain is holding off for another day. However, the state fairs are all over and all the 4Hers have their ribbons and are back in school. Fruits are being harvested and canneries are running around the clock. For me, though, lounging by the barn is a pleasant way to spend the afternoon. Schadenfreude’s black squirrel is much more industrious, picking up a small pumpkin to store away.
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