Podcasts about maihaugen

Skandinavian Folklore and Feast Days.Based on a post by Jorunn, in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.Syv Slags Kaker. (or, Seven Sorts of  Cookies)December 22nd – Evening, Five Days LaterJorunn said, “Well, Gunnar, we are back at our starting point, and this concludes the tour. We got off to a rough start on the first day, but since then, I have enjoyed spending time with you. After my mom got divorced, I stopped dating. Sure, I went out in mixed groups with my friends, but I cannot remember the last time I went somewhere, by myself, with a man. The divorce made me lose all confidence and trust in men. Why enter a relationship, and give my heart to a man, knowing it is going to fail? My father hurt my mother and me so badly, that neither of us have recovered. You were so wonderful to me this week, and showed me that not all men are like my father.”Jorunn looked at me with pleading eyes, “I don’t want this tour to end. I don’t want you to leave. Can you please stay in Oslo at least a few more days?”Jorunn didn’t want me to go. And I didn’t want to leave her either. I replied, “Jorunn, I cannot think of anyone or any place I would rather be than here in Oslo, with you.”Jorunn said, “It’s still early enough that we may be able to find seating without a reservation. I know a great place for seafood.”“Lead on,” I replied.Jorunn and I discussed the now-completed tour while enjoying a delicious dinner at a small kafé. I offered suggestions for the tour, but otherwise let her know I enjoyed seeing Norway, and I told her what a wonderful guide she was. After returning to America, I promised to recommend her tours to everyone I knew.As I looked over the dessert menu, I asked Jorunn, “I’m willing to stay a few more days. Are there any other Norwegian Christmas traditions or activities worth doing over the next few days?”“If you put down that dessert menu, there is one called Syv Slags Kaker. I baked seven kinds of cookies to celebrate Jul. If you come to my house, we can have coffee and you can sample all seven kinds.”“That sounds great,” I replied. Jorunn was inviting me to her home. She was beautiful and funny, and I admit I developed fantasies about her as I watched her vlog videos back in the nursing home. Heck, I even created new fantasies over the last week. She was much warmer toward me at the end of the tour. In Tromsø, we shared a blanket as we rode in a sleigh pulled by an actual reindeer. But after the Nutcracker ballet, I held back and did not cross any lines. Could a 56-year-old man and a 25-year-old woman have a sexual relationship? I managed to keep up with Jorunn all week and didn’t see any reason not to. I reached below the table to carefully re-position myself before standing up.We made our way to the Train Station and rode to Jorunn’s neighborhood. As we walked to her house, I noticed many homes with a lighted star in one of the windows.“What are those stars,” I asked.“They are a tradition in Norway. A star is lit on the first Sunday of Advent to help guide the Three Wise Men.”We stopped in front of a modest house. There was no star in the window, but I saw sheaves of oats hung from one of the trees. I was familiar with the tradition of putting out something for the birds in the frigid days of December. As we stepped inside, I was suddenly surprised. “Hi, Mom! I would like you to meet Gunnar Larsen.”“Good evening, Mr. Larsen. Jorunn has been sending me text messages all week about your exciting travels. I hope you enjoyed your tour. My name is Leah.”This was not what I expected. I hoped to be alone with Jorunn. The family resemblance was striking and quite apparent. Leah’s straight hair was a bit shorter than Jorunn’s but matched her daughter’s pure blonde color. Her blue eyes stood out from her attractive face. She was wearing a multi-colored Norwegian Dale sweater and green trousers. I possessed absolutely no experience telling how old Norwegian women are. She must be in her forties but looked younger.I said, “I enjoyed Jorunn’s tour very much. Your daughter is quite talented in many ways. Please, call me Gunnar.”Jorunn said, “Gunnar was asking about other Jul traditions and activities here in Norway over Christmas. I thought Syv Slags Kaker would be a good one, and your cookies are the best ones in Oslo. I’ll make us some coffee.”Leah looked at me, “Please sit Gunnar. How much longer will you be staying in Norway?”I replied, “About two more weeks. I wanted to celebrate the New Year here before returning to America.”I talked about the completed tour, and she seemed interested enough that I rambled on.“I really enjoyed visiting Lillehammer. It brought back memories of watching the 1994 Winter Olympics, probably my favorite one. The music was fantastic, and the woman who sang the Olympic Hymn at the opening ceremony possessed such a wonderful voice.”Leah replied, “Her name is Sissel Kyrkjebø. She is still extremely popular today, and we consider her a national treasure. I was 18 at the time, and worked at those Olympics.”“I’d love to hear more about that,” I replied. “It was nice to see many of the venues still being used. I also enjoyed the Olympic Museum in Maihaugen, which told the history of the 1994 Olympics. I was surprised to learn that Norway has won more Olympic medals than any other country. But the highlight for me was riding the chairlift to the top of the Lysgårdsbakkene ski jump. The views were amazing. I can’t imagine anyone being brave enough to make such a jump.”“I agree with you on that!” laughed Leah.I continued, “We also flew to Tromsø, and I got to see the Northern Lights. We can sometimes see them in southern Minnesota, but they were much more impressive here with the clear Norwegian air. Jorunn and I took a ride in a sleigh, pulled by actual reindeer. Reindeer are much larger than I thought. We visited a Sami farm, where we ate reindeer stew and learned about the Sami culture.”“I’ve never been, but I hear it’s really fun,” replied Leah.“Bærums Verk was also a highlight. You may already know that the town dates to the 1600s. I loved the old buildings and cobbled streets. Although the Christmas Market was small, I found it unique, with artisans selling handmade crafts. It was nice to see the old crafts like glassblowing, ironwork, and woodworking.”Jorunn returned with a large tray, holding coffee and cookies, and we began sampling.Leah asked, “Did you take Gunnar to Pepperkakebyen in Bergen? It’s a marvelous gingerbread village in my hometown. There are over 200 small gingerbread houses, and with the tiny lights turned on, it looks so real.”Jorunn replied, “A week goes by quickly, mamma. There is only so much time. The gingerbread houses are very nice, and I have fond memories of going there with you.”As we continued talking and munching cookies, I looked around at the decorations. There was an advent calendar, wreaths, angels, gnomes called nisse, hearts, stars, and candles. The decorations looked more natural, perhaps a bit less commercialized than in America. There was a real tree, complete with its wonderful pine smell, a star at the top, garland, tinsel, ornaments, and white lights.I looked at Leah, “I noticed that you don’t have a Christmas star in the window as many of the other houses do.”Leah replied, “I found my former husband in bed with another woman. I immediately divorced him. Among the many things he took from Jorunn and I, was our Christmas Star.”Leah sounded deeply hurt and from more than just the missing star. After tasting the last of the seven cookies, Leah asked how I liked them. “The waffle-like Krumkaker was probably my favorite. We tried making them in Minnesota, but yours turned out so much better. And, of course, the Pepperkaker gingerbread stars were great.” I held up another cookie and said, “I don’t know the name of this one, but it was also excellent.”Leah replied, “That one is Serinakaker, a Norwegian butter cookie.”I realized the inevitable, “It is getting late. Thank you both, Leah and Jorunn, for a wonderful evening. I need to get back to my hotel and figure out what to do over the next few days.”I saw Jorunn look at her mother, who nodded. As I stood up, Leah did too. “Nonsense, Gunnar. I won’t have it. Come, spend Christmas with Jorunn and me! Nearly everything in Oslo shuts down in the afternoon on Christmas Eve and stays closed until the 27th. No restaurants or shops will be open. I have an unused bedroom upstairs. Come celebrate Jul with us.”I caught the signal between mother and daughter and wondered if this was pre-planned. But spending Christmas alone in my hotel sounded almost as bad as spending it alone in the nursing home. It was an easy decision. “I accept.”Leah said, “Good. I’ll stop by your hotel tomorrow and help you move your things. Perhaps we can have lunch as well at one of the restaurants along Karl Johans gate.”“It would be my pleasure, ” I replied. “Let’s say, about 11:00 AM”Little Christmas EveDecember 23rd - MorningIt was December 23rd, known in Norway as Lille Julaften. Spending Christmas with Leah and Jorunn created a problem for me. I needed to find at least one Christmas present for each, just in case they bought a gift for me. I got up early and headed out to search. Reflecting on last night, and indeed, the last week, it ended up being far simpler than I feared. I soon found a gift for each, along with reusable cloth gift bags in Christmas colors.I heard a knock on my hotel door and opened it. Leah stood there, holding a coat over her arm. She was wearing a traditional Norwegian folk costume called a bunad. Her blonde hair, simply styled, was highlighted by two attractive braids.I smiled and said, “What a pleasant surprise. You look like you just stepped out of a fairy tale.”She looked past me into the messy room, then took a step toward me and surprised me with a kiss on my cheek. She stepped back and started laughing. “It didn’t work. I am a fairy tale princess, but you are still a frog! It looks like we have some work to do cleaning up your lily pad.”As Leah entered the room, I said, “I already packed a small bag, enough for a few days.”Leah walked over to the pile of clothes from my week-long trip. She picked up a shirt and sniffed it. Then she pulled a wool sweater out from the pile. “Keep your wool sweaters away from the rest of your dirty clothes. Wool is harder to clean and may pick up the smell. Let me see what else you packed.”Leah dumped out my small gym bag onto the bed and then began tossing things aside. “This won’t do. We need to take all of your clothes back to my house and wash them.”Fond memories returned. Whenever we went on a trip, Solveig would always dump out my suitcase and re-load it with other clothes. Solvieg would also pick out clothes for me to wear whenever we dressed to go out to weddings or a party.Leah said, “Don’t expect me to wash them for you. I have other things to do to get ready for Christmas. You’ll have enough free time you can wash them yourself. We will gather everything up after we come back from lunch.”What a woman! I can see where Jorunn inherited her strong personality. We left my hotel, and Leah took me to one of her favorite kafés. As we walked, Leah’s bunad drew eyes, and attracted smiles, as if she were a magnet. As we waited for our food, I asked Leah about her bunad.Leah replied, “I don’t get to wear my bunad very often. I usually wear it for National Day in May, and for weddings and baptisms, but I haven’t been to many of those lately. Christmas is also an acceptable time to wear it.”Leah wore the traditional white blouse with a silver neckpin. Her vest was bright red with a handmade breastplate. Her navy skirt was trimmed with intricate embroidery, and covered in front by a white apron. Around her waist and running down the front was a decorative handwoven belt.“I grew up east of Bergen, in the Hardanger region, so my bunad is in the Hardanger style. While details may vary, you can tell where someone is from by which style of bunad they are wearing. It would not be proper to choose a bunad from a different region simply because you prefer a different color.”“That’s a lovely silver brooch you have on. It looks very old.”“It was my grandmother’s. Norwegians have a spiritual connection to silver, and silver brooches are handed down for many generations. One day, it will be Jorunn’s.”The food was excellent. I have not eaten a bad meal here in Norway. Leah was a great conversationalist, and she freely shared her humor and wit. Her stories from the 1994 Olympics were fascinating, and even though Jorunn and I were just there, I wanted to go back. I learned Leah worked as a radiology technician at a local hospital here in Oslo and took the entire holiday off. The meal finished too quickly, and we returned to my hotel.As we gathered my assorted clothing, I saw one of my socks on the floor, so I walked around Leah to pick it up. Turning quickly, I found myself face-to-face with her. We stared at each other for a moment, then moved at the same time. Our lips came together, and we kissed. Not a gentle kiss, but a passionate one, long and deep. Intentions were clear on both sides.We separated. Leah said, “I have not had sex since divorcing my husband nearly three years ago. That bastard took away more than my Christmas Star, he took away my trust in men. I am forty-seven years old. I never go out on dates, because I’m afraid to open my heart again to another man. Jorunn texted me every night for the past week and would send short videos she took during the day. She kept repeating how much fun she was having with you, and how nice a man you are. I know it sounds funny, but after watching and reading what Jorunn sent me, I feel like I already know you, and have made it past the first date. I know you lost the woman you loved. I cannot replace her in your heart, but if you are ready, I would like to share mine.”This was unexpected. “When I was in Minnesota, I watched Jorunn’s vlog almost every night. She is so sweet and funny and does such an excellent job. Even though I never met Jorunn, I felt like I knew her. To use your dating analogy, it’s one of the reasons I picked her as a tour guide. I felt comfortable with Jorunn and was too afraid to trust another tour company. When I came to Norway, I left my past behind. It is time for me to find something, or someone, to love.”Our bodies came together, and our lips re-joined. Any fears of rejection vanished as I locked my lips onto those of this beautiful Norwegian woman. Our tongues danced with each other, while our hands moved quickly over each other’s bodies.“Help me take off my bunad,” pleaded Leah.Together, we unclasped, unbuckled, unbuttoned, and untied, removing one layer at a time of the intricate bunad and laying it over a chair. It was like slowly opening the best Christmas present I have ever gotten, as more of Leah’s body slowly revealed itself to me. Her breasts were small, but firm, and went well with her slender frame. I forgot how delicate a woman’s features are, and Leah’s body was perfect in every way. Below her waist, I found a mound of pure blonde hair, barely darker than the color on her head.“I have no other words, you are truly a gorgeous woman, Leah.”“Thank you, Gunnar. Now it’s my turn to have fun.”Leah approached me. With small steps, she moved gracefully. She lifted my pullover shirt, pausing as it obscured my eyes. “Don’t take your shirt off. Just enjoy the sensations.” In the darkness, her fingers teasingly played with the hairs on my chest. A fingernail flicked back and forth over my nipple, drawing it to an erection. Moving lower, Leah unbuckled my trousers and slid them down, taking my knickers with them. I was not yet erect, but moving rapidly in that direction. Cool fingers wrapped around my cock and lifted, while a single fingernail twirled against my ball sack. Her tongue dragged across the tip of my cock. Then, Leah’s hands moved behind me to cup and squeeze my bum cheeks. Her warm breath washed over my cock.Leah stood and pulled my shirt the rest of the way off, and I stepped out of my trousers. We remained like this, both naked, looking longingly at each other. Leah reached up and touched my hair. “You have just a touch of grey. I like that. Few mature men are as blessed as you, with a firm, lean body. I see all kinds of patients. You look like a forty-year-old.”I suppose that was one benefit of eating the low-fat, low-sugar, and tasteless nursing home food. I lost nearly thirty pounds. “I am older than I look, and you should know that I had a stroke two years ago. I am doing much better, but still have a balance issue, and sometimes slur my words."Slurring your words might just be because you have a lazy tongue. Perhaps we can find a way to fix that later.”For a moment, I wondered what she meant, then hoped my notions might come true. Leah dropped to her knees directly in front of me and ran a finger along my nearly erect shaft. “It feels so nice to touch a real one again. What a lovely cock you have.”I said, “I’m sorry. I don’t have a very large penis.”Leah laughed, “Anything more than a mouthful is just wasted. Now let’s begin. I will say a Norwegian word, and you repeat it. Listen carefully to my pronunciation and maybe we can fix your American accent.”Leah said, “Penis.” Then she grabbed my cock with her right hand.This might be fun, so I replied, “Penis!”Leah whispered, “Rub.” Then she began gently sliding her hand along my shaft. Without any lubrication, there was quite a bit of friction.I replied, “Rub!”Leah said, “Lick.” Leah extended her tongue, and starting near the base, began leaving wet trails along each side of my glistening cock. The warm softness of her tongue brought me to full erection.It felt fantastic, and I gasped out, “Lick!”Leah said, “Suck.” She opened her mouth wide and took in the head of my cock, using her tongue to tease the underside. Bringing her lips together, I felt the insides of her mouth pressing inward and squeezing tightly against me. When her suction began, she pulled the head of my cock deeper into her mouth. Leah’s head pulled back ever so slightly, allowing her soft lips to glide over me until my cock was almost freed. But not quite. Using the extra room, Leah teased my opening with the tip of her tongue. From the way her tongue easily twirled around, I was certain I contributed my pre-cum.Then her suction pulled me deeper into her mouth. She look

Skandinavian Folklore and Feast Days.Based on a post by Jorunn, in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.Syv Slags Kaker. (or, Seven Sorts of  Cookies)December 22nd – Evening, Five Days LaterJorunn said, “Well, Gunnar, we are back at our starting point, and this concludes the tour. We got off to a rough start on the first day, but since then, I have enjoyed spending time with you. After my mom got divorced, I stopped dating. Sure, I went out in mixed groups with my friends, but I cannot remember the last time I went somewhere, by myself, with a man. The divorce made me lose all confidence and trust in men. Why enter a relationship, and give my heart to a man, knowing it is going to fail? My father hurt my mother and me so badly, that neither of us have recovered. You were so wonderful to me this week, and showed me that not all men are like my father.”Jorunn looked at me with pleading eyes, “I don’t want this tour to end. I don’t want you to leave. Can you please stay in Oslo at least a few more days?”Jorunn didn’t want me to go. And I didn’t want to leave her either. I replied, “Jorunn, I cannot think of anyone or any place I would rather be than here in Oslo, with you.”Jorunn said, “It’s still early enough that we may be able to find seating without a reservation. I know a great place for seafood.”“Lead on,” I replied.Jorunn and I discussed the now-completed tour while enjoying a delicious dinner at a small kafé. I offered suggestions for the tour, but otherwise let her know I enjoyed seeing Norway, and I told her what a wonderful guide she was. After returning to America, I promised to recommend her tours to everyone I knew.As I looked over the dessert menu, I asked Jorunn, “I’m willing to stay a few more days. Are there any other Norwegian Christmas traditions or activities worth doing over the next few days?”“If you put down that dessert menu, there is one called Syv Slags Kaker. I baked seven kinds of cookies to celebrate Jul. If you come to my house, we can have coffee and you can sample all seven kinds.”“That sounds great,” I replied. Jorunn was inviting me to her home. She was beautiful and funny, and I admit I developed fantasies about her as I watched her vlog videos back in the nursing home. Heck, I even created new fantasies over the last week. She was much warmer toward me at the end of the tour. In Tromsø, we shared a blanket as we rode in a sleigh pulled by an actual reindeer. But after the Nutcracker ballet, I held back and did not cross any lines. Could a 56-year-old man and a 25-year-old woman have a sexual relationship? I managed to keep up with Jorunn all week and didn’t see any reason not to. I reached below the table to carefully re-position myself before standing up.We made our way to the Train Station and rode to Jorunn’s neighborhood. As we walked to her house, I noticed many homes with a lighted star in one of the windows.“What are those stars,” I asked.“They are a tradition in Norway. A star is lit on the first Sunday of Advent to help guide the Three Wise Men.”We stopped in front of a modest house. There was no star in the window, but I saw sheaves of oats hung from one of the trees. I was familiar with the tradition of putting out something for the birds in the frigid days of December. As we stepped inside, I was suddenly surprised. “Hi, Mom! I would like you to meet Gunnar Larsen.”“Good evening, Mr. Larsen. Jorunn has been sending me text messages all week about your exciting travels. I hope you enjoyed your tour. My name is Leah.”This was not what I expected. I hoped to be alone with Jorunn. The family resemblance was striking and quite apparent. Leah’s straight hair was a bit shorter than Jorunn’s but matched her daughter’s pure blonde color. Her blue eyes stood out from her attractive face. She was wearing a multi-colored Norwegian Dale sweater and green trousers. I possessed absolutely no experience telling how old Norwegian women are. She must be in her forties but looked younger.I said, “I enjoyed Jorunn’s tour very much. Your daughter is quite talented in many ways. Please, call me Gunnar.”Jorunn said, “Gunnar was asking about other Jul traditions and activities here in Norway over Christmas. I thought Syv Slags Kaker would be a good one, and your cookies are the best ones in Oslo. I’ll make us some coffee.”Leah looked at me, “Please sit Gunnar. How much longer will you be staying in Norway?”I replied, “About two more weeks. I wanted to celebrate the New Year here before returning to America.”I talked about the completed tour, and she seemed interested enough that I rambled on.“I really enjoyed visiting Lillehammer. It brought back memories of watching the 1994 Winter Olympics, probably my favorite one. The music was fantastic, and the woman who sang the Olympic Hymn at the opening ceremony possessed such a wonderful voice.”Leah replied, “Her name is Sissel Kyrkjebø. She is still extremely popular today, and we consider her a national treasure. I was 18 at the time, and worked at those Olympics.”“I’d love to hear more about that,” I replied. “It was nice to see many of the venues still being used. I also enjoyed the Olympic Museum in Maihaugen, which told the history of the 1994 Olympics. I was surprised to learn that Norway has won more Olympic medals than any other country. But the highlight for me was riding the chairlift to the top of the Lysgårdsbakkene ski jump. The views were amazing. I can’t imagine anyone being brave enough to make such a jump.”“I agree with you on that!” laughed Leah.I continued, “We also flew to Tromsø, and I got to see the Northern Lights. We can sometimes see them in southern Minnesota, but they were much more impressive here with the clear Norwegian air. Jorunn and I took a ride in a sleigh, pulled by actual reindeer. Reindeer are much larger than I thought. We visited a Sami farm, where we ate reindeer stew and learned about the Sami culture.”“I’ve never been, but I hear it’s really fun,” replied Leah.“Bærums Verk was also a highlight. You may already know that the town dates to the 1600s. I loved the old buildings and cobbled streets. Although the Christmas Market was small, I found it unique, with artisans selling handmade crafts. It was nice to see the old crafts like glassblowing, ironwork, and woodworking.”Jorunn returned with a large tray, holding coffee and cookies, and we began sampling.Leah asked, “Did you take Gunnar to Pepperkakebyen in Bergen? It’s a marvelous gingerbread village in my hometown. There are over 200 small gingerbread houses, and with the tiny lights turned on, it looks so real.”Jorunn replied, “A week goes by quickly, mamma. There is only so much time. The gingerbread houses are very nice, and I have fond memories of going there with you.”As we continued talking and munching cookies, I looked around at the decorations. There was an advent calendar, wreaths, angels, gnomes called nisse, hearts, stars, and candles. The decorations looked more natural, perhaps a bit less commercialized than in America. There was a real tree, complete with its wonderful pine smell, a star at the top, garland, tinsel, ornaments, and white lights.I looked at Leah, “I noticed that you don’t have a Christmas star in the window as many of the other houses do.”Leah replied, “I found my former husband in bed with another woman. I immediately divorced him. Among the many things he took from Jorunn and I, was our Christmas Star.”Leah sounded deeply hurt and from more than just the missing star. After tasting the last of the seven cookies, Leah asked how I liked them. “The waffle-like Krumkaker was probably my favorite. We tried making them in Minnesota, but yours turned out so much better. And, of course, the Pepperkaker gingerbread stars were great.” I held up another cookie and said, “I don’t know the name of this one, but it was also excellent.”Leah replied, “That one is Serinakaker, a Norwegian butter cookie.”I realized the inevitable, “It is getting late. Thank you both, Leah and Jorunn, for a wonderful evening. I need to get back to my hotel and figure out what to do over the next few days.”I saw Jorunn look at her mother, who nodded. As I stood up, Leah did too. “Nonsense, Gunnar. I won’t have it. Come, spend Christmas with Jorunn and me! Nearly everything in Oslo shuts down in the afternoon on Christmas Eve and stays closed until the 27th. No restaurants or shops will be open. I have an unused bedroom upstairs. Come celebrate Jul with us.”I caught the signal between mother and daughter and wondered if this was pre-planned. But spending Christmas alone in my hotel sounded almost as bad as spending it alone in the nursing home. It was an easy decision. “I accept.”Leah said, “Good. I’ll stop by your hotel tomorrow and help you move your things. Perhaps we can have lunch as well at one of the restaurants along Karl Johans gate.”“It would be my pleasure, ” I replied. “Let’s say, about 11:00 AM”Little Christmas EveDecember 23rd - MorningIt was December 23rd, known in Norway as Lille Julaften. Spending Christmas with Leah and Jorunn created a problem for me. I needed to find at least one Christmas present for each, just in case they bought a gift for me. I got up early and headed out to search. Reflecting on last night, and indeed, the last week, it ended up being far simpler than I feared. I soon found a gift for each, along with reusable cloth gift bags in Christmas colors.I heard a knock on my hotel door and opened it. Leah stood there, holding a coat over her arm. She was wearing a traditional Norwegian folk costume called a bunad. Her blonde hair, simply styled, was highlighted by two attractive braids.I smiled and said, “What a pleasant surprise. You look like you just stepped out of a fairy tale.”She looked past me into the messy room, then took a step toward me and surprised me with a kiss on my cheek. She stepped back and started laughing. “It didn’t work. I am a fairy tale princess, but you are still a frog! It looks like we have some work to do cleaning up your lily pad.”As Leah entered the room, I said, “I already packed a small bag, enough for a few days.”Leah walked over to the pile of clothes from my week-long trip. She picked up a shirt and sniffed it. Then she pulled a wool sweater out from the pile. “Keep your wool sweaters away from the rest of your dirty clothes. Wool is harder to clean and may pick up the smell. Let me see what else you packed.”Leah dumped out my small gym bag onto the bed and then began tossing things aside. “This won’t do. We need to take all of your clothes back to my house and wash them.”Fond memories returned. Whenever we went on a trip, Solveig would always dump out my suitcase and re-load it with other clothes. Solvieg would also pick out clothes for me to wear whenever we dressed to go out to weddings or a party.Leah said, “Don’t expect me to wash them for you. I have other things to do to get ready for Christmas. You’ll have enough free time you can wash them yourself. We will gather everything up after we come back from lunch.”What a woman! I can see where Jorunn inherited her strong personality. We left my hotel, and Leah took me to one of her favorite kafés. As we walked, Leah’s bunad drew eyes, and attracted smiles, as if she were a magnet. As we waited for our food, I asked Leah about her bunad.Leah replied, “I don’t get to wear my bunad very often. I usually wear it for National Day in May, and for weddings and baptisms, but I haven’t been to many of those lately. Christmas is also an acceptable time to wear it.”Leah wore the traditional white blouse with a silver neckpin. Her vest was bright red with a handmade breastplate. Her navy skirt was trimmed with intricate embroidery, and covered in front by a white apron. Around her waist and running down the front was a decorative handwoven belt.“I grew up east of Bergen, in the Hardanger region, so my bunad is in the Hardanger style. While details may vary, you can tell where someone is from by which style of bunad they are wearing. It would not be proper to choose a bunad from a different region simply because you prefer a different color.”“That’s a lovely silver brooch you have on. It looks very old.”“It was my grandmother’s. Norwegians have a spiritual connection to silver, and silver brooches are handed down for many generations. One day, it will be Jorunn’s.”The food was excellent. I have not eaten a bad meal here in Norway. Leah was a great conversationalist, and she freely shared her humor and wit. Her stories from the 1994 Olympics were fascinating, and even though Jorunn and I were just there, I wanted to go back. I learned Leah worked as a radiology technician at a local hospital here in Oslo and took the entire holiday off. The meal finished too quickly, and we returned to my hotel.As we gathered my assorted clothing, I saw one of my socks on the floor, so I walked around Leah to pick it up. Turning quickly, I found myself face-to-face with her. We stared at each other for a moment, then moved at the same time. Our lips came together, and we kissed. Not a gentle kiss, but a passionate one, long and deep. Intentions were clear on both sides.We separated. Leah said, “I have not had sex since divorcing my husband nearly three years ago. That bastard took away more than my Christmas Star, he took away my trust in men. I am forty-seven years old. I never go out on dates, because I’m afraid to open my heart again to another man. Jorunn texted me every night for the past week and would send short videos she took during the day. She kept repeating how much fun she was having with you, and how nice a man you are. I know it sounds funny, but after watching and reading what Jorunn sent me, I feel like I already know you, and have made it past the first date. I know you lost the woman you loved. I cannot replace her in your heart, but if you are ready, I would like to share mine.”This was unexpected. “When I was in Minnesota, I watched Jorunn’s vlog almost every night. She is so sweet and funny and does such an excellent job. Even though I never met Jorunn, I felt like I knew her. To use your dating analogy, it’s one of the reasons I picked her as a tour guide. I felt comfortable with Jorunn and was too afraid to trust another tour company. When I came to Norway, I left my past behind. It is time for me to find something, or someone, to love.”Our bodies came together, and our lips re-joined. Any fears of rejection vanished as I locked my lips onto those of this beautiful Norwegian woman. Our tongues danced with each other, while our hands moved quickly over each other’s bodies.“Help me take off my bunad,” pleaded Leah.Together, we unclasped, unbuckled, unbuttoned, and untied, removing one layer at a time of the intricate bunad and laying it over a chair. It was like slowly opening the best Christmas present I have ever gotten, as more of Leah’s body slowly revealed itself to me. Her breasts were small, but firm, and went well with her slender frame. I forgot how delicate a woman’s features are, and Leah’s body was perfect in every way. Below her waist, I found a mound of pure blonde hair, barely darker than the color on her head.“I have no other words, you are truly a gorgeous woman, Leah.”“Thank you, Gunnar. Now it’s my turn to have fun.”Leah approached me. With small steps, she moved gracefully. She lifted my pullover shirt, pausing as it obscured my eyes. “Don’t take your shirt off. Just enjoy the sensations.” In the darkness, her fingers teasingly played with the hairs on my chest. A fingernail flicked back and forth over my nipple, drawing it to an erection. Moving lower, Leah unbuckled my trousers and slid them down, taking my knickers with them. I was not yet erect, but moving rapidly in that direction. Cool fingers wrapped around my cock and lifted, while a single fingernail twirled against my ball sack. Her tongue dragged across the tip of my cock. Then, Leah’s hands moved behind me to cup and squeeze my bum cheeks. Her warm breath washed over my cock.Leah stood and pulled my shirt the rest of the way off, and I stepped out of my trousers. We remained like this, both naked, looking longingly at each other. Leah reached up and touched my hair. “You have just a touch of grey. I like that. Few mature men are as blessed as you, with a firm, lean body. I see all kinds of patients. You look like a forty-year-old.”I suppose that was one benefit of eating the low-fat, low-sugar, and tasteless nursing home food. I lost nearly thirty pounds. “I am older than I look, and you should know that I had a stroke two years ago. I am doing much better, but still have a balance issue, and sometimes slur my words."Slurring your words might just be because you have a lazy tongue. Perhaps we can find a way to fix that later.”For a moment, I wondered what she meant, then hoped my notions might come true. Leah dropped to her knees directly in front of me and ran a finger along my nearly erect shaft. “It feels so nice to touch a real one again. What a lovely cock you have.”I said, “I’m sorry. I don’t have a very large penis.”Leah laughed, “Anything more than a mouthful is just wasted. Now let’s begin. I will say a Norwegian word, and you repeat it. Listen carefully to my pronunciation and maybe we can fix your American accent.”Leah said, “Penis.” Then she grabbed my cock with her right hand.This might be fun, so I replied, “Penis!”Leah whispered, “Rub.” Then she began gently sliding her hand along my shaft. Without any lubrication, there was quite a bit of friction.I replied, “Rub!”Leah said, “Lick.” Leah extended her tongue, and starting near the base, began leaving wet trails along each side of my glistening cock. The warm softness of her tongue brought me to full erection.It felt fantastic, and I gasped out, “Lick!”Leah said, “Suck.” She opened her mouth wide and took in the head of my cock, using her tongue to tease the underside. Bringing her lips together, I felt the insides of her mouth pressing inward and squeezing tightly against me. When her suction began, she pulled the head of my cock deeper into her mouth. Leah’s head pulled back ever so slightly, allowing her soft lips to glide over me until my cock was almost freed. But not quite. Using the extra room, Leah teased my opening with the tip of her tongue. From the way her tongue easily twirled around, I was certain I contributed my pre-cum.Then her suction pulled me deeper into her mouth. She look

Skandinavian Folklore and Feast Days.Based on a post by Jorunn, in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.Syv Slags Kaker. (or, Seven Sorts of  Cookies)December 22nd – Evening, Five Days LaterJorunn said, “Well, Gunnar, we are back at our starting point, and this concludes the tour. We got off to a rough start on the first day, but since then, I have enjoyed spending time with you. After my mom got divorced, I stopped dating. Sure, I went out in mixed groups with my friends, but I cannot remember the last time I went somewhere, by myself, with a man. The divorce made me lose all confidence and trust in men. Why enter a relationship, and give my heart to a man, knowing it is going to fail? My father hurt my mother and me so badly, that neither of us have recovered. You were so wonderful to me this week, and showed me that not all men are like my father.”Jorunn looked at me with pleading eyes, “I don’t want this tour to end. I don’t want you to leave. Can you please stay in Oslo at least a few more days?”Jorunn didn’t want me to go. And I didn’t want to leave her either. I replied, “Jorunn, I cannot think of anyone or any place I would rather be than here in Oslo, with you.”Jorunn said, “It’s still early enough that we may be able to find seating without a reservation. I know a great place for seafood.”“Lead on,” I replied.Jorunn and I discussed the now-completed tour while enjoying a delicious dinner at a small kafé. I offered suggestions for the tour, but otherwise let her know I enjoyed seeing Norway, and I told her what a wonderful guide she was. After returning to America, I promised to recommend her tours to everyone I knew.As I looked over the dessert menu, I asked Jorunn, “I’m willing to stay a few more days. Are there any other Norwegian Christmas traditions or activities worth doing over the next few days?”“If you put down that dessert menu, there is one called Syv Slags Kaker. I baked seven kinds of cookies to celebrate Jul. If you come to my house, we can have coffee and you can sample all seven kinds.”“That sounds great,” I replied. Jorunn was inviting me to her home. She was beautiful and funny, and I admit I developed fantasies about her as I watched her vlog videos back in the nursing home. Heck, I even created new fantasies over the last week. She was much warmer toward me at the end of the tour. In Tromsø, we shared a blanket as we rode in a sleigh pulled by an actual reindeer. But after the Nutcracker ballet, I held back and did not cross any lines. Could a 56-year-old man and a 25-year-old woman have a sexual relationship? I managed to keep up with Jorunn all week and didn’t see any reason not to. I reached below the table to carefully re-position myself before standing up.We made our way to the Train Station and rode to Jorunn’s neighborhood. As we walked to her house, I noticed many homes with a lighted star in one of the windows.“What are those stars,” I asked.“They are a tradition in Norway. A star is lit on the first Sunday of Advent to help guide the Three Wise Men.”We stopped in front of a modest house. There was no star in the window, but I saw sheaves of oats hung from one of the trees. I was familiar with the tradition of putting out something for the birds in the frigid days of December. As we stepped inside, I was suddenly surprised. “Hi, Mom! I would like you to meet Gunnar Larsen.”“Good evening, Mr. Larsen. Jorunn has been sending me text messages all week about your exciting travels. I hope you enjoyed your tour. My name is Leah.”This was not what I expected. I hoped to be alone with Jorunn. The family resemblance was striking and quite apparent. Leah’s straight hair was a bit shorter than Jorunn’s but matched her daughter’s pure blonde color. Her blue eyes stood out from her attractive face. She was wearing a multi-colored Norwegian Dale sweater and green trousers. I possessed absolutely no experience telling how old Norwegian women are. She must be in her forties but looked younger.I said, “I enjoyed Jorunn’s tour very much. Your daughter is quite talented in many ways. Please, call me Gunnar.”Jorunn said, “Gunnar was asking about other Jul traditions and activities here in Norway over Christmas. I thought Syv Slags Kaker would be a good one, and your cookies are the best ones in Oslo. I’ll make us some coffee.”Leah looked at me, “Please sit Gunnar. How much longer will you be staying in Norway?”I replied, “About two more weeks. I wanted to celebrate the New Year here before returning to America.”I talked about the completed tour, and she seemed interested enough that I rambled on.“I really enjoyed visiting Lillehammer. It brought back memories of watching the 1994 Winter Olympics, probably my favorite one. The music was fantastic, and the woman who sang the Olympic Hymn at the opening ceremony possessed such a wonderful voice.”Leah replied, “Her name is Sissel Kyrkjebø. She is still extremely popular today, and we consider her a national treasure. I was 18 at the time, and worked at those Olympics.”“I’d love to hear more about that,” I replied. “It was nice to see many of the venues still being used. I also enjoyed the Olympic Museum in Maihaugen, which told the history of the 1994 Olympics. I was surprised to learn that Norway has won more Olympic medals than any other country. But the highlight for me was riding the chairlift to the top of the Lysgårdsbakkene ski jump. The views were amazing. I can’t imagine anyone being brave enough to make such a jump.”“I agree with you on that!” laughed Leah.I continued, “We also flew to Tromsø, and I got to see the Northern Lights. We can sometimes see them in southern Minnesota, but they were much more impressive here with the clear Norwegian air. Jorunn and I took a ride in a sleigh, pulled by actual reindeer. Reindeer are much larger than I thought. We visited a Sami farm, where we ate reindeer stew and learned about the Sami culture.”“I’ve never been, but I hear it’s really fun,” replied Leah.“Bærums Verk was also a highlight. You may already know that the town dates to the 1600s. I loved the old buildings and cobbled streets. Although the Christmas Market was small, I found it unique, with artisans selling handmade crafts. It was nice to see the old crafts like glassblowing, ironwork, and woodworking.”Jorunn returned with a large tray, holding coffee and cookies, and we began sampling.Leah asked, “Did you take Gunnar to Pepperkakebyen in Bergen? It’s a marvelous gingerbread village in my hometown. There are over 200 small gingerbread houses, and with the tiny lights turned on, it looks so real.”Jorunn replied, “A week goes by quickly, mamma. There is only so much time. The gingerbread houses are very nice, and I have fond memories of going there with you.”As we continued talking and munching cookies, I looked around at the decorations. There was an advent calendar, wreaths, angels, gnomes called nisse, hearts, stars, and candles. The decorations looked more natural, perhaps a bit less commercialized than in America. There was a real tree, complete with its wonderful pine smell, a star at the top, garland, tinsel, ornaments, and white lights.I looked at Leah, “I noticed that you don’t have a Christmas star in the window as many of the other houses do.”Leah replied, “I found my former husband in bed with another woman. I immediately divorced him. Among the many things he took from Jorunn and I, was our Christmas Star.”Leah sounded deeply hurt and from more than just the missing star. After tasting the last of the seven cookies, Leah asked how I liked them. “The waffle-like Krumkaker was probably my favorite. We tried making them in Minnesota, but yours turned out so much better. And, of course, the Pepperkaker gingerbread stars were great.” I held up another cookie and said, “I don’t know the name of this one, but it was also excellent.”Leah replied, “That one is Serinakaker, a Norwegian butter cookie.”I realized the inevitable, “It is getting late. Thank you both, Leah and Jorunn, for a wonderful evening. I need to get back to my hotel and figure out what to do over the next few days.”I saw Jorunn look at her mother, who nodded. As I stood up, Leah did too. “Nonsense, Gunnar. I won’t have it. Come, spend Christmas with Jorunn and me! Nearly everything in Oslo shuts down in the afternoon on Christmas Eve and stays closed until the 27th. No restaurants or shops will be open. I have an unused bedroom upstairs. Come celebrate Jul with us.”I caught the signal between mother and daughter and wondered if this was pre-planned. But spending Christmas alone in my hotel sounded almost as bad as spending it alone in the nursing home. It was an easy decision. “I accept.”Leah said, “Good. I’ll stop by your hotel tomorrow and help you move your things. Perhaps we can have lunch as well at one of the restaurants along Karl Johans gate.”“It would be my pleasure, ” I replied. “Let’s say, about 11:00 AM”Little Christmas EveDecember 23rd - MorningIt was December 23rd, known in Norway as Lille Julaften. Spending Christmas with Leah and Jorunn created a problem for me. I needed to find at least one Christmas present for each, just in case they bought a gift for me. I got up early and headed out to search. Reflecting on last night, and indeed, the last week, it ended up being far simpler than I feared. I soon found a gift for each, along with reusable cloth gift bags in Christmas colors.I heard a knock on my hotel door and opened it. Leah stood there, holding a coat over her arm. She was wearing a traditional Norwegian folk costume called a bunad. Her blonde hair, simply styled, was highlighted by two attractive braids.I smiled and said, “What a pleasant surprise. You look like you just stepped out of a fairy tale.”She looked past me into the messy room, then took a step toward me and surprised me with a kiss on my cheek. She stepped back and started laughing. “It didn’t work. I am a fairy tale princess, but you are still a frog! It looks like we have some work to do cleaning up your lily pad.”As Leah entered the room, I said, “I already packed a small bag, enough for a few days.”Leah walked over to the pile of clothes from my week-long trip. She picked up a shirt and sniffed it. Then she pulled a wool sweater out from the pile. “Keep your wool sweaters away from the rest of your dirty clothes. Wool is harder to clean and may pick up the smell. Let me see what else you packed.”Leah dumped out my small gym bag onto the bed and then began tossing things aside. “This won’t do. We need to take all of your clothes back to my house and wash them.”Fond memories returned. Whenever we went on a trip, Solveig would always dump out my suitcase and re-load it with other clothes. Solvieg would also pick out clothes for me to wear whenever we dressed to go out to weddings or a party.Leah said, “Don’t expect me to wash them for you. I have other things to do to get ready for Christmas. You’ll have enough free time you can wash them yourself. We will gather everything up after we come back from lunch.”What a woman! I can see where Jorunn inherited her strong personality. We left my hotel, and Leah took me to one of her favorite kafés. As we walked, Leah’s bunad drew eyes, and attracted smiles, as if she were a magnet. As we waited for our food, I asked Leah about her bunad.Leah replied, “I don’t get to wear my bunad very often. I usually wear it for National Day in May, and for weddings and baptisms, but I haven’t been to many of those lately. Christmas is also an acceptable time to wear it.”Leah wore the traditional white blouse with a silver neckpin. Her vest was bright red with a handmade breastplate. Her navy skirt was trimmed with intricate embroidery, and covered in front by a white apron. Around her waist and running down the front was a decorative handwoven belt.“I grew up east of Bergen, in the Hardanger region, so my bunad is in the Hardanger style. While details may vary, you can tell where someone is from by which style of bunad they are wearing. It would not be proper to choose a bunad from a different region simply because you prefer a different color.”“That’s a lovely silver brooch you have on. It looks very old.”“It was my grandmother’s. Norwegians have a spiritual connection to silver, and silver brooches are handed down for many generations. One day, it will be Jorunn’s.”The food was excellent. I have not eaten a bad meal here in Norway. Leah was a great conversationalist, and she freely shared her humor and wit. Her stories from the 1994 Olympics were fascinating, and even though Jorunn and I were just there, I wanted to go back. I learned Leah worked as a radiology technician at a local hospital here in Oslo and took the entire holiday off. The meal finished too quickly, and we returned to my hotel.As we gathered my assorted clothing, I saw one of my socks on the floor, so I walked around Leah to pick it up. Turning quickly, I found myself face-to-face with her. We stared at each other for a moment, then moved at the same time. Our lips came together, and we kissed. Not a gentle kiss, but a passionate one, long and deep. Intentions were clear on both sides.We separated. Leah said, “I have not had sex since divorcing my husband nearly three years ago. That bastard took away more than my Christmas Star, he took away my trust in men. I am forty-seven years old. I never go out on dates, because I’m afraid to open my heart again to another man. Jorunn texted me every night for the past week and would send short videos she took during the day. She kept repeating how much fun she was having with you, and how nice a man you are. I know it sounds funny, but after watching and reading what Jorunn sent me, I feel like I already know you, and have made it past the first date. I know you lost the woman you loved. I cannot replace her in your heart, but if you are ready, I would like to share mine.”This was unexpected. “When I was in Minnesota, I watched Jorunn’s vlog almost every night. She is so sweet and funny and does such an excellent job. Even though I never met Jorunn, I felt like I knew her. To use your dating analogy, it’s one of the reasons I picked her as a tour guide. I felt comfortable with Jorunn and was too afraid to trust another tour company. When I came to Norway, I left my past behind. It is time for me to find something, or someone, to love.”Our bodies came together, and our lips re-joined. Any fears of rejection vanished as I locked my lips onto those of this beautiful Norwegian woman. Our tongues danced with each other, while our hands moved quickly over each other’s bodies.“Help me take off my bunad,” pleaded Leah.Together, we unclasped, unbuckled, unbuttoned, and untied, removing one layer at a time of the intricate bunad and laying it over a chair. It was like slowly opening the best Christmas present I have ever gotten, as more of Leah’s body slowly revealed itself to me. Her breasts were small, but firm, and went well with her slender frame. I forgot how delicate a woman’s features are, and Leah’s body was perfect in every way. Below her waist, I found a mound of pure blonde hair, barely darker than the color on her head.“I have no other words, you are truly a gorgeous woman, Leah.”“Thank you, Gunnar. Now it’s my turn to have fun.”Leah approached me. With small steps, she moved gracefully. She lifted my pullover shirt, pausing as it obscured my eyes. “Don’t take your shirt off. Just enjoy the sensations.” In the darkness, her fingers teasingly played with the hairs on my chest. A fingernail flicked back and forth over my nipple, drawing it to an erection. Moving lower, Leah unbuckled my trousers and slid them down, taking my knickers with them. I was not yet erect, but moving rapidly in that direction. Cool fingers wrapped around my cock and lifted, while a single fingernail twirled against my ball sack. Her tongue dragged across the tip of my cock. Then, Leah’s hands moved behind me to cup and squeeze my bum cheeks. Her warm breath washed over my cock.Leah stood and pulled my shirt the rest of the way off, and I stepped out of my trousers. We remained like this, both naked, looking longingly at each other. Leah reached up and touched my hair. “You have just a touch of grey. I like that. Few mature men are as blessed as you, with a firm, lean body. I see all kinds of patients. You look like a forty-year-old.”I suppose that was one benefit of eating the low-fat, low-sugar, and tasteless nursing home food. I lost nearly thirty pounds. “I am older than I look, and you should know that I had a stroke two years ago. I am doing much better, but still have a balance issue, and sometimes slur my words."Slurring your words might just be because you have a lazy tongue. Perhaps we can find a way to fix that later.”For a moment, I wondered what she meant, then hoped my notions might come true. Leah dropped to her knees directly in front of me and ran a finger along my nearly erect shaft. “It feels so nice to touch a real one again. What a lovely cock you have.”I said, “I’m sorry. I don’t have a very large penis.”Leah laughed, “Anything more than a mouthful is just wasted. Now let’s begin. I will say a Norwegian word, and you repeat it. Listen carefully to my pronunciation and maybe we can fix your American accent.”Leah said, “Penis.” Then she grabbed my cock with her right hand.This might be fun, so I replied, “Penis!”Leah whispered, “Rub.” Then she began gently sliding her hand along my shaft. Without any lubrication, there was quite a bit of friction.I replied, “Rub!”Leah said, “Lick.” Leah extended her tongue, and starting near the base, began leaving wet trails along each side of my glistening cock. The warm softness of her tongue brought me to full erection.It felt fantastic, and I gasped out, “Lick!”Leah said, “Suck.” She opened her mouth wide and took in the head of my cock, using her tongue to tease the underside. Bringing her lips together, I felt the insides of her mouth pressing inward and squeezing tightly against me. When her suction began, she pulled the head of my cock deeper into her mouth. Leah’s head pulled back ever so slightly, allowing her soft lips to glide over me until my cock was almost freed. But not quite. Using the extra room, Leah teased my opening with the tip of her tongue. From the way her tongue easily twirled around, I was certain I contributed my pre-cum.Then her suction pulled me deeper into her mouth. She look

Skandinavian Folklore and Feast Days.Based on a post by Jorunn, in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.Syv Slags Kaker. (or, Seven Sorts of  Cookies)December 22nd – Evening, Five Days LaterJorunn said, “Well, Gunnar, we are back at our starting point, and this concludes the tour. We got off to a rough start on the first day, but since then, I have enjoyed spending time with you. After my mom got divorced, I stopped dating. Sure, I went out in mixed groups with my friends, but I cannot remember the last time I went somewhere, by myself, with a man. The divorce made me lose all confidence and trust in men. Why enter a relationship, and give my heart to a man, knowing it is going to fail? My father hurt my mother and me so badly, that neither of us have recovered. You were so wonderful to me this week, and showed me that not all men are like my father.”Jorunn looked at me with pleading eyes, “I don’t want this tour to end. I don’t want you to leave. Can you please stay in Oslo at least a few more days?”Jorunn didn’t want me to go. And I didn’t want to leave her either. I replied, “Jorunn, I cannot think of anyone or any place I would rather be than here in Oslo, with you.”Jorunn said, “It’s still early enough that we may be able to find seating without a reservation. I know a great place for seafood.”“Lead on,” I replied.Jorunn and I discussed the now-completed tour while enjoying a delicious dinner at a small kafé. I offered suggestions for the tour, but otherwise let her know I enjoyed seeing Norway, and I told her what a wonderful guide she was. After returning to America, I promised to recommend her tours to everyone I knew.As I looked over the dessert menu, I asked Jorunn, “I’m willing to stay a few more days. Are there any other Norwegian Christmas traditions or activities worth doing over the next few days?”“If you put down that dessert menu, there is one called Syv Slags Kaker. I baked seven kinds of cookies to celebrate Jul. If you come to my house, we can have coffee and you can sample all seven kinds.”“That sounds great,” I replied. Jorunn was inviting me to her home. She was beautiful and funny, and I admit I developed fantasies about her as I watched her vlog videos back in the nursing home. Heck, I even created new fantasies over the last week. She was much warmer toward me at the end of the tour. In Tromsø, we shared a blanket as we rode in a sleigh pulled by an actual reindeer. But after the Nutcracker ballet, I held back and did not cross any lines. Could a 56-year-old man and a 25-year-old woman have a sexual relationship? I managed to keep up with Jorunn all week and didn’t see any reason not to. I reached below the table to carefully re-position myself before standing up.We made our way to the Train Station and rode to Jorunn’s neighborhood. As we walked to her house, I noticed many homes with a lighted star in one of the windows.“What are those stars,” I asked.“They are a tradition in Norway. A star is lit on the first Sunday of Advent to help guide the Three Wise Men.”We stopped in front of a modest house. There was no star in the window, but I saw sheaves of oats hung from one of the trees. I was familiar with the tradition of putting out something for the birds in the frigid days of December. As we stepped inside, I was suddenly surprised. “Hi, Mom! I would like you to meet Gunnar Larsen.”“Good evening, Mr. Larsen. Jorunn has been sending me text messages all week about your exciting travels. I hope you enjoyed your tour. My name is Leah.”This was not what I expected. I hoped to be alone with Jorunn. The family resemblance was striking and quite apparent. Leah’s straight hair was a bit shorter than Jorunn’s but matched her daughter’s pure blonde color. Her blue eyes stood out from her attractive face. She was wearing a multi-colored Norwegian Dale sweater and green trousers. I possessed absolutely no experience telling how old Norwegian women are. She must be in her forties but looked younger.I said, “I enjoyed Jorunn’s tour very much. Your daughter is quite talented in many ways. Please, call me Gunnar.”Jorunn said, “Gunnar was asking about other Jul traditions and activities here in Norway over Christmas. I thought Syv Slags Kaker would be a good one, and your cookies are the best ones in Oslo. I’ll make us some coffee.”Leah looked at me, “Please sit Gunnar. How much longer will you be staying in Norway?”I replied, “About two more weeks. I wanted to celebrate the New Year here before returning to America.”I talked about the completed tour, and she seemed interested enough that I rambled on.“I really enjoyed visiting Lillehammer. It brought back memories of watching the 1994 Winter Olympics, probably my favorite one. The music was fantastic, and the woman who sang the Olympic Hymn at the opening ceremony possessed such a wonderful voice.”Leah replied, “Her name is Sissel Kyrkjebø. She is still extremely popular today, and we consider her a national treasure. I was 18 at the time, and worked at those Olympics.”“I’d love to hear more about that,” I replied. “It was nice to see many of the venues still being used. I also enjoyed the Olympic Museum in Maihaugen, which told the history of the 1994 Olympics. I was surprised to learn that Norway has won more Olympic medals than any other country. But the highlight for me was riding the chairlift to the top of the Lysgårdsbakkene ski jump. The views were amazing. I can’t imagine anyone being brave enough to make such a jump.”“I agree with you on that!” laughed Leah.I continued, “We also flew to Tromsø, and I got to see the Northern Lights. We can sometimes see them in southern Minnesota, but they were much more impressive here with the clear Norwegian air. Jorunn and I took a ride in a sleigh, pulled by actual reindeer. Reindeer are much larger than I thought. We visited a Sami farm, where we ate reindeer stew and learned about the Sami culture.”“I’ve never been, but I hear it’s really fun,” replied Leah.“Bærums Verk was also a highlight. You may already know that the town dates to the 1600s. I loved the old buildings and cobbled streets. Although the Christmas Market was small, I found it unique, with artisans selling handmade crafts. It was nice to see the old crafts like glassblowing, ironwork, and woodworking.”Jorunn returned with a large tray, holding coffee and cookies, and we began sampling.Leah asked, “Did you take Gunnar to Pepperkakebyen in Bergen? It’s a marvelous gingerbread village in my hometown. There are over 200 small gingerbread houses, and with the tiny lights turned on, it looks so real.”Jorunn replied, “A week goes by quickly, mamma. There is only so much time. The gingerbread houses are very nice, and I have fond memories of going there with you.”As we continued talking and munching cookies, I looked around at the decorations. There was an advent calendar, wreaths, angels, gnomes called nisse, hearts, stars, and candles. The decorations looked more natural, perhaps a bit less commercialized than in America. There was a real tree, complete with its wonderful pine smell, a star at the top, garland, tinsel, ornaments, and white lights.I looked at Leah, “I noticed that you don’t have a Christmas star in the window as many of the other houses do.”Leah replied, “I found my former husband in bed with another woman. I immediately divorced him. Among the many things he took from Jorunn and I, was our Christmas Star.”Leah sounded deeply hurt and from more than just the missing star. After tasting the last of the seven cookies, Leah asked how I liked them. “The waffle-like Krumkaker was probably my favorite. We tried making them in Minnesota, but yours turned out so much better. And, of course, the Pepperkaker gingerbread stars were great.” I held up another cookie and said, “I don’t know the name of this one, but it was also excellent.”Leah replied, “That one is Serinakaker, a Norwegian butter cookie.”I realized the inevitable, “It is getting late. Thank you both, Leah and Jorunn, for a wonderful evening. I need to get back to my hotel and figure out what to do over the next few days.”I saw Jorunn look at her mother, who nodded. As I stood up, Leah did too. “Nonsense, Gunnar. I won’t have it. Come, spend Christmas with Jorunn and me! Nearly everything in Oslo shuts down in the afternoon on Christmas Eve and stays closed until the 27th. No restaurants or shops will be open. I have an unused bedroom upstairs. Come celebrate Jul with us.”I caught the signal between mother and daughter and wondered if this was pre-planned. But spending Christmas alone in my hotel sounded almost as bad as spending it alone in the nursing home. It was an easy decision. “I accept.”Leah said, “Good. I’ll stop by your hotel tomorrow and help you move your things. Perhaps we can have lunch as well at one of the restaurants along Karl Johans gate.”“It would be my pleasure, ” I replied. “Let’s say, about 11:00 AM”Little Christmas EveDecember 23rd - MorningIt was December 23rd, known in Norway as Lille Julaften. Spending Christmas with Leah and Jorunn created a problem for me. I needed to find at least one Christmas present for each, just in case they bought a gift for me. I got up early and headed out to search. Reflecting on last night, and indeed, the last week, it ended up being far simpler than I feared. I soon found a gift for each, along with reusable cloth gift bags in Christmas colors.I heard a knock on my hotel door and opened it. Leah stood there, holding a coat over her arm. She was wearing a traditional Norwegian folk costume called a bunad. Her blonde hair, simply styled, was highlighted by two attractive braids.I smiled and said, “What a pleasant surprise. You look like you just stepped out of a fairy tale.”She looked past me into the messy room, then took a step toward me and surprised me with a kiss on my cheek. She stepped back and started laughing. “It didn’t work. I am a fairy tale princess, but you are still a frog! It looks like we have some work to do cleaning up your lily pad.”As Leah entered the room, I said, “I already packed a small bag, enough for a few days.”Leah walked over to the pile of clothes from my week-long trip. She picked up a shirt and sniffed it. Then she pulled a wool sweater out from the pile. “Keep your wool sweaters away from the rest of your dirty clothes. Wool is harder to clean and may pick up the smell. Let me see what else you packed.”Leah dumped out my small gym bag onto the bed and then began tossing things aside. “This won’t do. We need to take all of your clothes back to my house and wash them.”Fond memories returned. Whenever we went on a trip, Solveig would always dump out my suitcase and re-load it with other clothes. Solvieg would also pick out clothes for me to wear whenever we dressed to go out to weddings or a party.Leah said, “Don’t expect me to wash them for you. I have other things to do to get ready for Christmas. You’ll have enough free time you can wash them yourself. We will gather everything up after we come back from lunch.”What a woman! I can see where Jorunn inherited her strong personality. We left my hotel, and Leah took me to one of her favorite kafés. As we walked, Leah’s bunad drew eyes, and attracted smiles, as if she were a magnet. As we waited for our food, I asked Leah about her bunad.Leah replied, “I don’t get to wear my bunad very often. I usually wear it for National Day in May, and for weddings and baptisms, but I haven’t been to many of those lately. Christmas is also an acceptable time to wear it.”Leah wore the traditional white blouse with a silver neckpin. Her vest was bright red with a handmade breastplate. Her navy skirt was trimmed with intricate embroidery, and covered in front by a white apron. Around her waist and running down the front was a decorative handwoven belt.“I grew up east of Bergen, in the Hardanger region, so my bunad is in the Hardanger style. While details may vary, you can tell where someone is from by which style of bunad they are wearing. It would not be proper to choose a bunad from a different region simply because you prefer a different color.”“That’s a lovely silver brooch you have on. It looks very old.”“It was my grandmother’s. Norwegians have a spiritual connection to silver, and silver brooches are handed down for many generations. One day, it will be Jorunn’s.”The food was excellent. I have not eaten a bad meal here in Norway. Leah was a great conversationalist, and she freely shared her humor and wit. Her stories from the 1994 Olympics were fascinating, and even though Jorunn and I were just there, I wanted to go back. I learned Leah worked as a radiology technician at a local hospital here in Oslo and took the entire holiday off. The meal finished too quickly, and we returned to my hotel.As we gathered my assorted clothing, I saw one of my socks on the floor, so I walked around Leah to pick it up. Turning quickly, I found myself face-to-face with her. We stared at each other for a moment, then moved at the same time. Our lips came together, and we kissed. Not a gentle kiss, but a passionate one, long and deep. Intentions were clear on both sides.We separated. Leah said, “I have not had sex since divorcing my husband nearly three years ago. That bastard took away more than my Christmas Star, he took away my trust in men. I am forty-seven years old. I never go out on dates, because I’m afraid to open my heart again to another man. Jorunn texted me every night for the past week and would send short videos she took during the day. She kept repeating how much fun she was having with you, and how nice a man you are. I know it sounds funny, but after watching and reading what Jorunn sent me, I feel like I already know you, and have made it past the first date. I know you lost the woman you loved. I cannot replace her in your heart, but if you are ready, I would like to share mine.”This was unexpected. “When I was in Minnesota, I watched Jorunn’s vlog almost every night. She is so sweet and funny and does such an excellent job. Even though I never met Jorunn, I felt like I knew her. To use your dating analogy, it’s one of the reasons I picked her as a tour guide. I felt comfortable with Jorunn and was too afraid to trust another tour company. When I came to Norway, I left my past behind. It is time for me to find something, or someone, to love.”Our bodies came together, and our lips re-joined. Any fears of rejection vanished as I locked my lips onto those of this beautiful Norwegian woman. Our tongues danced with each other, while our hands moved quickly over each other’s bodies.“Help me take off my bunad,” pleaded Leah.Together, we unclasped, unbuckled, unbuttoned, and untied, removing one layer at a time of the intricate bunad and laying it over a chair. It was like slowly opening the best Christmas present I have ever gotten, as more of Leah’s body slowly revealed itself to me. Her breasts were small, but firm, and went well with her slender frame. I forgot how delicate a woman’s features are, and Leah’s body was perfect in every way. Below her waist, I found a mound of pure blonde hair, barely darker than the color on her head.“I have no other words, you are truly a gorgeous woman, Leah.”“Thank you, Gunnar. Now it’s my turn to have fun.”Leah approached me. With small steps, she moved gracefully. She lifted my pullover shirt, pausing as it obscured my eyes. “Don’t take your shirt off. Just enjoy the sensations.” In the darkness, her fingers teasingly played with the hairs on my chest. A fingernail flicked back and forth over my nipple, drawing it to an erection. Moving lower, Leah unbuckled my trousers and slid them down, taking my knickers with them. I was not yet erect, but moving rapidly in that direction. Cool fingers wrapped around my cock and lifted, while a single fingernail twirled against my ball sack. Her tongue dragged across the tip of my cock. Then, Leah’s hands moved behind me to cup and squeeze my bum cheeks. Her warm breath washed over my cock.Leah stood and pulled my shirt the rest of the way off, and I stepped out of my trousers. We remained like this, both naked, looking longingly at each other. Leah reached up and touched my hair. “You have just a touch of grey. I like that. Few mature men are as blessed as you, with a firm, lean body. I see all kinds of patients. You look like a forty-year-old.”I suppose that was one benefit of eating the low-fat, low-sugar, and tasteless nursing home food. I lost nearly thirty pounds. “I am older than I look, and you should know that I had a stroke two years ago. I am doing much better, but still have a balance issue, and sometimes slur my words."Slurring your words might just be because you have a lazy tongue. Perhaps we can find a way to fix that later.”For a moment, I wondered what she meant, then hoped my notions might come true. Leah dropped to her knees directly in front of me and ran a finger along my nearly erect shaft. “It feels so nice to touch a real one again. What a lovely cock you have.”I said, “I’m sorry. I don’t have a very large penis.”Leah laughed, “Anything more than a mouthful is just wasted. Now let’s begin. I will say a Norwegian word, and you repeat it. Listen carefully to my pronunciation and maybe we can fix your American accent.”Leah said, “Penis.” Then she grabbed my cock with her right hand.This might be fun, so I replied, “Penis!”Leah whispered, “Rub.” Then she began gently sliding her hand along my shaft. Without any lubrication, there was quite a bit of friction.I replied, “Rub!”Leah said, “Lick.” Leah extended her tongue, and starting near the base, began leaving wet trails along each side of my glistening cock. The warm softness of her tongue brought me to full erection.It felt fantastic, and I gasped out, “Lick!”Leah said, “Suck.” She opened her mouth wide and took in the head of my cock, using her tongue to tease the underside. Bringing her lips together, I felt the insides of her mouth pressing inward and squeezing tightly against me. When her suction began, she pulled the head of my cock deeper into her mouth. Leah’s head pulled back ever so slightly, allowing her soft lips to glide over me until my cock was almost freed. But not quite. Using the extra room, Leah teased my opening with the tip of her tongue. From the way her tongue easily twirled around, I was certain I contributed my pre-cum.Then her suction pulled me deeper into her mouth. She look

Vi er på Maihaugen i Lillehammer, og har skrudd klokka tilbake til 90-tallet – tiåret da supermodeller prydet forsider, boyband og popstjerner hang på veggene til tenåringer, og stiler fra buffalo-sko til neonfarger satte sitt preg. Med oss for å mimre er kjente stemmer som Triana Iglesias, Nils Vogt - bedre kjent som Karl i Mot i brøstet, og selveste Ferrari-gutten. Episoden kan inneholde målrettet reklame, basert på din IP-adresse, enhet og posisjon. Se smartpod.no/personvern for informasjon og dine valg om deling av data.

Vi sender live fra 80-tallshuset på Maihaugen. Vokalist i 80-tallsbandet «Return» får servert rekecocktail av Christer og Vida Lill får en makeover med krepptang og blå øyenskygge fra produsent Dyveke. Bli med på en tidsreise i dagens podkast Episoden kan inneholde målrettet reklame, basert på din IP-adresse, enhet og posisjon. Se smartpod.no/personvern for informasjon og dine valg om deling av data.

De ville skape noe unikt og flyttet tilbake til naturen og røttene i Gudbrandsdalen. For rundt ti år siden startet gründerne Sidsel og Ingvill Hemma sin virksomhet i den gamle treskifabrikken på Fåberg. De ville utvikle og håndlage vakre bruksting av porselen. Ingen av dem var keramikere, Sidsel hadde bakgrunn som blomsterdekoratør og produktdesigner, Ingvill som stylist. Veien har vært bratt, krevende og lærerik. Kommer du dit på besøk kan du få se både galleri, butikk og produksjon. Her kan du høre Sidsel fortelle om erfaringene de har gjort seg og hva de drømmer om fremover. Sidsel har dessuten utviklet en flott hage rundt fabrikken, og har også et spennende hus ved Maihaugen på Lillehammer der hun bor. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

«Å hjemme seg» - Sigrid Undsets Bjerkebæk I år er det ett hundre år siden Sigrid Undset slo seg ned på Lillehammer. Hun hadde to barn, det tredje var på vei og mannen etterlot hun i Kristiania. Nå sto Kristin Lavransdatter og Bjerkebæk for tur. Men hvorfor Lillehammer ? - Si det, sier museumskonservator Bente Forberg. Hva vet vi egentlig om ekteskapet med maleren Anders Svarstad ? Han ble i hvert fall igjen på Kampen i Kristiania. Kanskje var det at hun hadde gode venner her fra tiden i Roma ? Hun kom nær det området hun valgte som hjemtraktene til Kristin. Og kanskje var det nærheten til friluftsmuseet på Maihaugen, med autentiske middelalderhus og miljøer som kunne vært kulisser i romantrilogien om Kristian Lavransdatter, sier Forberg. I MUSEUM forteller Bente Forberg og Cecilie Skeide fra Lillehammer Museum og de to nye utstillingene som nettopp har åpnet. Den ene er på Bjerkebæk og handler om Sigrid Undsets reiser. Den andre er en kunst- design og interiørutstilling på Lillehammer kunstmuseum som skildrer de kunst og kulturimpulsene som preget Sigrid Undsets liv og diktning. «Å hjemme seg» - Den tittelen fikk vi hjelp til fra Sigrid Undset selv, sier kurator Cecilie Skeide. I både brev og romaner bruker Sigrid Undset det uttrykket. Slik jeg tolker det skaper hun et rede når hun «hjemmer seg» . Der kan hun føle seg hjemme, være trygg og kunne gro og være kreativ. Og det er ikke bare hjemme på Bjerkebæk hun «hjemmer seg». Det er på hotellrom på reiser og i eksil i New York. Da henter hun inn potteplanter, små duppeditter, bøker og fotografier og skaper de rammene hun trenger, sier Skeide. Hundreårsmarkeringen av at Sigrid Undset flyttet til Lillehammer finner vi også i «gjestehuset» på Bjerkebæk. Det er et lite rom, bare 20 kvadratmeter, men der er det funnet plass til sju reiser verden rundt. Blant annet det fem år lange eksiloppholdet i New York under krigen da hun bodde på Hotell Margaret i 97 Columbia Heights i Brooklyn. «Det er fornyes man skal når man reiser» heter utstillingen, det samme Sigrid Undset hadde som motto for sine mange studiereiser. - Helt siden 1997 har vi hatt et rom på Maihaugen med en mengde av Sigrid Undsets esker og arkivsaker. Nå har vi endelig fått tid til å gå gjennom alt og noe av det vi fant viser vi for første gang på denne utstillingen, sier Forberg. Sendt første gang lørdag 15.juni 2019. Programleder Øyvind Arntsen. Med Cecilie Skeide og Bente Forberg. Stemmene til Sigrid Undset og Hans Bendict Undset Svarstad fra NRKs arkiv.

*Dei siste ti åra har utvalde kunstnarar, arkitektar og designere pynta det tradisjonsrike juletreet på Maihaugen. Og, årets juletre er skapt av maleren og skulptøren Kjell Erik Killi Olsen. * På denne tida likar vi jo å oppsummera det meste.. også på kulturfronten. Vi må ha ein "gjønågång" av kulturpoltikken i 2018.. Agnes Moxnes.

"Naboens hus på museum" var samtidsdokumentasjon og helt nye toner i Museums-Norge i 2001. Daværende direktør ved De Sandvigske samlinger, Olav Aaraas, forteller hvordan "boligfeltet" på Maihaugen gradvis bygges ut. I Programmet besøker vi 70-tallshuset som ble flyttet fra Gardermoen og samtidshuset som da var det mest moderne. - Diss husene er like viktige som stabbur og stavkirken, sa Olav Aaraas. Senere i 2001 ble Aaraas direktør ved Norsk Folkemuseum hvor denne museumspolitikken ble videreført. Dette er en av MUSEUMs "spesialpodkaster", program som kun legges ut på denne måten og som ikke blir sendt i radio på vanlig måte. Programmet MUSEUM startet i januar 2001 og "Naboens hus på museum" ble sendt første gang vinteren 2001. Programleder var Øyvind Arntsen

** Rasismedebatt i Stavanger i kveld til tross for sterk motstand. Flere debattanter har trukket seg. ** Norske museer skjuler skatter du sjelden får se - for dårlig, mener museumsdirektøren på Maihaugen. ** CD-ens død er betydelig overdrevet - solgte for 46 milliarder kroner på verdensbasis ifjor.

Er det 1.verdenskrig eller Dybbøl 1864 som er de store jubileene neste år ? 1814 må vel også med, men så er det den store Vikingutstillingen som aldri kommer til Norge. Og et lappeteppe på Maihaugen. Pluss forbindelsen mellom Reichkommissar Heinrich Himmler og norsk folkemusikk. Det er omtrent det hele i årets siste MUSEUMsprogram.

En julenisse-spilledåse i ekte plast, en utslitt vott funnet under en isbre og skrivekurs i arkivet. Dette er noe av det vi får høre om når MUSEUM nå reiser til Maihaugen på Lillehammer. Kirsti Krekling og Else Braut forteller om "Tusen tråder - en historiefortelling i tekstil", Marit Hosar presenterer skrivekurset for pensjonister og Kåre Hosar låser opp 1950-tallshuset i boligfeltet på Maihaugen for å fortelle om julepynt på 1950-tallet. Programleder Øyvind Arntsen.

Velkommen til Nyhetsmorgen, fredag 11. mai har vi disse hovedsakene: - For første gang har et norsk sykehus kvittet seg med all ufrivillig deltid. - Spritsmugling til Norge har blitt en stor belastning for det svenske rettsvesenet. - Forsvarssjefen vil gjøre kontoret til Gunnar Sønsteby om til hedersplass for de som har mottatt Krigskorset. - Vi skal også høre om Vandrespillet som skal knytte sammen Lillehammer by og Maihaugen museum. Et historisk opptog skal markere Anders Sandvigs 150 års dag. Her i studio: Øystein Heggen

Det kjente plateselskapet ECM kutter ut strømming og satser på CDer, På 150 års dagen i dag i dag feires Anders Sandvig, mannen bak Maihaugen, med vandreteater i Lillehammers gater. Kulturnytt er i dag ved Ugo Fermariello

Motstanden var stor da Maihaugen på Lillehammer ville stille ut moderne eneboliger og Moelvenhus på museet. Så ble det suksess likevel - men hvorfor skal vi flytte nåtida inn på museum? Reporter: Kristin Moksnes.

Flere trailerlass med norske bondeantikviteter og rikelig med snusdåser, ølseidler og blanke våpen blir i disse dager registrert og undersøkt på Norsk Folkemuseum. Det handler om tilbakeføringen av den norske samlingen fra Nordiska Museet i Stockholm i denne utgaven av MUSEUM, som ble sendt første gang 13/11 2010. Da grunnleggeren av Nordiska Museet i Stockholm, Alfred Hazelius, reiste rundt i Gudbrandsdalen og andre bygder for å kjøpe opp bondeantikviteter på slutten av 1800-tallet, våknet også den norske museumstanken. Det var slik Anders Sandvig fikk idéen til Maihaugen, og også Norsk Folkemuseum og De Heiberske samlinger kom i gang på denne tiden. – Det Hazelius gjorde var egentlig en positiv ting, han var en ekte skandinavist, sier direktør Olav Aaraas på Norsk Folkemuseum, som nettopp har tatt imot den siste sendingen i tilbakeføringen av tusenvis av gjenstander fra Stockholm. – Når vi er ferdig med registreringen håper vi å deponere mange av de tilbakeførte gjenstandene også i andre, norske museer, sier Aaraas. I MUSEUM viser konservatorene fram en rekke gjenstander, blant annet en unik ølbolle i tre, rikt dekorert med portretter, tekst og tablåer, malt av Thomas Blix på gården Vinje i Telemark i 1713. – Her har vi starten på norsk rosemalingskunst, sier utstillingskoordinator Torgeir Kjos. Rundt bollens kant står innskriften : Den som dricker vel, han sofer vel. Den som sofer vel, han synder ikke. Den som ikke synder, han er salig. Derfor er den som dricker vel også salig. Vi møter også Jan Romsaas og Frederikke Lysgård som trekker fram snusdåser, ølkrus, våpen og inventar fra 1600 og 1700-tallet på den norske landsbygda. Blant annet sverd og økser som kan ha vært brukt av de skotske leiesoldatene som falt ved Kringen i 1612. – Vi legger de nye gjenstandene fortløpende ut med tekst og bilde på Digitalt museum, sier Lysgård.

I år er det 100 år siden Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson døde i Paris, og på Aulestad markeres det med en storstilt restaurering til 50 millioner kroner. Store vannskader, setninger og bygninger som nesten falt sammen av råte var den sjokkerende statusen da bygningene på Aulestad ble gjennomgått for 10 år siden. Maihaugen slo alarm og 50 millioner kroner senere er håndverkerne i siste innspurt før den store åpningen til 17.mai. Aulestad var Bjørnstjerne Bjørnsons hjem de siste 35 år av hans levetid. Først da Karoline døde i 1934 ble huset fredet og gjort om til museum. Barnebarnet Else Bjørnson ble født på Nedre Aulestad i 1894 og ble omviser i museet helt fram til 1964. I MUSEUM hører vi henne fortelle om livet på Aulestad i et arkivopptak fra 1959. I dag er Aulestad en del av Maihaugen og i MUSEUM forteller avdelingsleder Torunn Herje og museumskonsulent Bente Forberg om det store restaureringsarbeidet som har pågått de siste årene. Vi får også en tur inn i huset hvor vi blant annet får høre om Bjørnsons skrivestue. – For oss barnebarna var nok den store skålen med sukkertøy , bonbonièren, det mest spennende på skrivebordet, forteller Else Bjørnson. Musikken i programmet er "Øyvinds sang" fra "En glad gutt", kjent som Løft ditt hode, du raske gutt. Framført av Lars Lillo-Stenberg.