Sunday, June 06, 2010

perfect day

Days just don't get any better than today. They really don't.

I woke up to the husband making pancakes (from Bisquick, which are my favorites.) Rich cooks three things, steaks, pancakes and lately, a decent omelette. The pancakes and steaks are my favorites, and right now he is out there getting the grill ready for steaks, so double win for me today on the food front.

After the pancakes, I hung out on the balcony for some sunbathing for a while but got restless and decided to kick it up a notch. So, I gathered together my little backpack, a towel, my bikini, straw hat and shorts, a book, blackberry and iTouch and wandered down the road to Bygdøy, where the museums and some of the beaches are.

God what a perfect day. Warm enough to work up a sweat, but the breezes whisked the sweat away and left you refreshed, but still feeling the sun. I wandered past Oscarhallen, an old summer palace of the Norwegian royal family, and met up with some of the Kongelig Cows, as the royal family still keeps cows and horses on the land. The cows were very polite. I moseyed over to the bus stop by the Folkmuseum, and took the bus to Huk, where there is a popular beach. I had an ice cream cone and then wandered over to what I thought looked like a nice area to sun bathe, a green grassy space. I was about to settle in with my book and towel when I realized...there was an awful lot on display. Pink flesh. Flesh that you don't see on a usual beach. Pink flesh belonging to what seemed like mostly older fat men who were not exactly, um, modest with their poses.

Oh shit. I wandered onto the nekkid beach. I pretended like I was cool and gathered my stuff and just sort of wandered off. Quickly. Yeah, yeah, I've lived in Europe for almost 8 years now, but I still don't do naked beaches. I might see someone I KNOW and then what? No thank you.

I went over to a likely (and less nude, though there were some topless teenagers around) spot and parked myself in the sun there. Ah. Sort of a black sand, not exactly sandy, but not pebbly either. Little bitty black rocks that were kind of flat and not pokey. I settled in and watched the fjord and the sun and the boats and the mating rituals of the under 20's. I kept my top on, didn't want to embarrass the poor girls with what REAL boobs look like. (Real fabulous, I might add.) I read my book, Diana Gabladon's latest, and sent a couple texts on my phone. Nice, lazy.

I walked home, listening to my walkies dance mix on the iTouch and just enjoying the feeling of being healthy, warm, full of energy and alive. While I walked, a message came in from work, a complimentary one from the big boss about something I had done last week. Damn, what the hell is going on that today seems to be my karmic high? Pancakes, steak, beach, sun, tan, walkies and now a good email from work? I started to float. It is possible to float when walking.

Got home and decided to go ahead and make it a REALLY perfect day and opened a bottle of prosecco I brought back from Rome. Had a shower. Cleaned up my room while drinking bubbly, listening to music and dancing.

Am now in a white sundress, with something approaching a tan, smelling the grill heating up, and thinking I'll probably watch some episodes of Mad Men later on.

I love summer in Norway. I really do.

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