TIME AND PLACE

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There was that most pleasurable rainy ride from Stavanger shared in all of those raindrop photos—leading up to the best possible time in Kristiansand. My family here includes Tone, Simon, Oda and Erland. Tone is the daughter of my second-cousin, Gurine, whom I first met in 1985. I liked her so much; she and I agreed back then that if only we lived closer to each other we would become such good… Read More

THE ‘BEGATS’ According to cousin, Arne Neset, of Stavanger, Norway, Neset history begins in the late 17th century when one of our ancestors, Knut J. Haugen, appears to have bought the farm Haugen from the bailiff Christian Mouritzen Torup in Grendi around 1695. Thanks to Arne’s fairly extensive research here’s what we know. First a ‘begat’ paragraph to bring the family up to the 1860s. For five generations, the family name was… Read More

    This is the first section of a story I wrote awhile ago about Grandma Asborg Neset.      When I knew Grandma Neset she was old and stooped with a deeply wrinkled face. She did not like children and usually referred to me as dårlig jente (bad girl) although I was the person she asked to read the funny papers to her on Sundays; Dick Tracy was her favorite. Her house always… Read More

Minnesota…to Vietnam Minnesota is fading quickly into the background as I immerse myself in preparing for Asia. Oh yeah and then there’s also work—long hours because of evenings managing the theatre for renters; preparing my apartment for a stay by the bro and Marsha while they search for their Albuquerque winter apartment, and the minutia of daily life such as putting gas in the car and doing the laundry and watering the… Read More

My River Runs To Thee My River runs to thee— Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me? My River wait reply— Oh Sea—look graciously— I’ll fetch thee Brooks From spotted nooks— Say—Sea—Take Me! (Emily Dickinson) Beautiful morning along the Mississippi.   *** On a pond of Mississippi backwater in Robert’s Green Hornet.  

Fall, leaves, fall Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away; Lengthen night and shorten day; Every leaf speaks bliss to me Fluttering from the autumn tree. I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow; I shall sing when night’s decay Ushers in a drearier day. (Emily Bronte) I come home almost every summer, stay at Robert and Marsha’s in Grand Rapids, and walk in the woods along the… Read More

I’m going to be cremated. Partially so I don’t have to be stuck in one place. First of all…a handful or so of my ashes (mixed with Max, my last border collie’s) must go out on the Old Place, some more in the Bosque down by Tingley Beach and at Neset Camping in Byglandsfiord, and…finally the rest should be here at the Forest Hill Cemetery in Northome, Minnesota. Burrowed in right between… Read More

Sunday out at the “Old Place.” Our oldest (in both friendship and age time) friends and a walk in the woods. It’s the first time Michele has seen the kids’ Minnesota land; Steven’s is the eastern 40, Scott’s the western part where the broken house is returning to the land. THE FRIENDS The ever-amazing Helen Week, age 95, is the last of my folks’ generation. She still mows her lawn and bakes… Read More

Oh oh…woke up this morning thinking about work and New Mexico and real life…In a good way. I’ve breathed in my Minnesota air, eaten sour cream raisin bars and walleye, hung out at ‘the old place,’ seen family and friends, driven lots of miles, and, did I mention all of my new shoes (Bender’s, Grand Rapids, great shoes). Refreshed and well-shod I can go home. Here’s a big fat album of the… Read More

In northern Minnesota, the leaves continue gilding; the air is pure and predictive of cold to come; and I have just returned from a sleepover in the north of the north. When I pay attention to my world there are always discoveries. For example. Bliss is possible. On the way back from Roseau yesterday, a drive of about 220 miles, I parked at a rest stop overlooking the Rainy River and the… Read More