AFI SAID: VIKING KIDS DON'T CRY....

                                                            AFI  (Grandpa Bjorn).

Just musing, and thinking back on growing up in Iceland. Of all my family, my grandpa (Afi) in Vopnafjordur was my favorite person. He had the most wonderful attic room full of books, stacked on the floor, on the window sill as all the shelves were full. On the floor were newspapers from Canada called The Heimskringla. In all that chaos his desk had amazing free space where he spread out his papers.

 He didn't mind when I came in and watched him as he was working on intricate  math problems that covered his pages. He didn't say I was to "curious" and "asked to many questions." He hadn't even scolded when I had tinkered with his motorboat, got it started and, un-expectantly, took it for a short spin in the fjord (I'd forgotten all about this when I wrote my memoir!). Fortunately it was just a big curve on a smooth ocean and I was able to bring it back and ease it up to the pier as my uncle Bjossi and Afi came running; Bjossi hollering, waving his arms about and yelling "girl, don't you EVER learn!?" While Grandpa gave me a slow wink as he stroked his graying mustache, hiding a grin.

Afi owned a farm called Hamundarstadir. The house was three-gabled and turf covered the roof, where I had to constantly chase sheep off, although most of them wandered out into the foothills where we had to find them in the Fall for the sheep-roundup (great festive days!)  He also had a few milk-cows, one that was called Red, I was sure she was the meanest cow in all of Iceland. Afi was also a good fisherman and frequently took his motorboat out into the fjord bringing back large cache of fresh fish, our main food.

My Father, Jonas, Afi's first-born, didn't take to farm life and left for Reykjavik where he entered the Marine Navigation school, graduating in 1924, after which he was pretty much on the ocean the rest of his life. As I was growing up, I didn't see much of him. Afi was quite proud of him and told me how tough Jonas was " a true Viking kid that didn't cry" as he, Afi, would tell me if I got to whimpering and missing my siblings he would remind me "Diddamin, Viking kids don't cry..." I learned early on to "tough it out." But I seemed to have this curiosity..."But Afi, I am not a Viking kid, they are long gone,"  besides what exactly WAS a Viking, what kind of word is that anyway...?"

Oh boy, did I get a lesson when he so grandly proclaimed that my ancestors - Starting with Hrolfur Redbeard in 860 - were great navigators and shipbuilders. Brave men and women that followed their hearts for adventures. For years many Icelandic men, women and children were challenged to overcome harsh weather, long winter nights - by grit and determination - "and this shows up even yet in the independent spirit of most of us Icelanders".. Afi twirled the ends of his short, handlebar, mustache."And the word Viking? Well, Diddamin, that is actually an Icelandic word -VIKINGUR - and means he who comes from the fjord. Yes those were cruel days in many ways, but he Vikings were not any meaner than other groups that roamed the world."

I grew up following Afi's words "Don't let fear rule your life, enjoy it!"
Hmm, maybe that is why, when a United States Navy man proposed at a second dance and I said "yes" and came to America in 1945 - by myself. Of course I didn't know his family, I'd never been out of Iceland. I spoke limited English and he spoke no Icelandic...but that is another story...

I want to share my grandfather's tenacity and great outlook on life.

Live while you're alive!

,

Just musing....

In June, my youngest daughter, Heidi, and I traveled from central Illinois to St. Louis, Mo to catch a nonstop plane to Keflavik, Iceland. We arrived in plenty of time which was a good thing...

Something about the passport of this elderly woman shut down ALL the computers of the WOW service desk!!! Technicians came running in, back out again, and in again...

In the meantime the travelers kept coming and standing in line! A GLITZ! After almost an hour the problem was solved, not my passport, just bad timing for me for a computer glitz to take place, whew!

Two hours after taking off, at 11 p.m, we flew through the night in constant sunrise! Poor photo through the window of airplane.


Arrived in Keflavik by 11 a.m.and got our rental camper and hit the road! Drove to Vik where we met Gisli and crew for the paragliding event! Flying over the black sands of Vik and the waves of the Atlantic Ocean, higher than the seagulls, is an unforgettable experience!

Next morning it was a zip-line event, a new adventure offered by Gisli and his True Adventure company. The landscape of the hike to the "take-off" site is surrealistic and yet gorgeous.

What fun this new sport is, the view from above is phen'awesome! 

Next it was another dream come true for this 93+ chronologically gifted woman...Try ice-cave climbing! Wow! I was not very elegant but I got to try it... At the Katla Glacier Ice-cave!





Thank you Gisli and Birgir at True Adventure for making this 83-year-old dream come true - at the age of ten and growing up in Iceland I tried to fly like the seagulls but an earthquake spoiled the attempt (Full story in my memoir GROWING UP VIKING.) Never to late to realize your dream!

MUSIC UNDER THE BRIDGE..

                                         

                                           Bernie King and The Guilty Pleasures, Blues-Grass.
                                         

                                          Fun evening in Wabash, Minnesota

Under the bridge of  Wabash, Minnesota/Wisconsin

The traffic zoomed over and the band played on.:-)

                Gorgeous day visiting the Farmers Market in downtown Winona, Minnesota
                                                      Della - Amma - Marian - Al 

I'm a 93 years old chronologically gifted woman who "aspires to inspire before I expire".
At age ten, growing up in Iceland I wanted to fly like the seagulls. I tried one  day by tying a flour sack on my neck and proceeded to jump/fly from one corrugated shed to another, an earthquake happened to spoil that attempt but not my dream. I waited for years and finally realized the dream as you can see in the photo. Paragliding in Vik, Iceland. Higher than the Seagulls we, Gisli, from True Adventures, and I soared, above the black sand, above the Atlantic! Yes dreams do come true.

Keep moving life beckons!

I move at every opportunity; dancing my microwave-hop, stretching, stretching, doing the "stork-pose" as I wait for the coffee to brew. Keep my brain active by writing - I published my memoir at age 88, had time to write after my ten kids were grown. just last May I received International Book Award Finalist...Never give up and keep it moving: Keep your spirit - mind - and body moving, no one will do it for you. Yes you can!

THE IMPORTANCE OF MOVEMENT.

                                                 Stretch - Stretch - Stretch.

  I am now 93 very active and enjoying life; river rafting - paragliding - zip lining - ice-caving - indoor rock-wall climbing - jumping rope... and constantly asked: What's your secret? If there's one thing I do pretty constantly it is stretching:

Routine: Ten sit-ups while still in bed, roll over and hold a plank position for count of sixty. Then do a dog and cat stretches, after which I swing my legs out of bed to the nearest wall and stretch as high as I can. Then - tightening my abdominal muscles - I slowly lower myself into squat-sitting, bounce up and down a bit and then slowly rise up again. Stand on one leg for a count of ten then switch to the other. Next I do hamstring stretches and shake my body real good to loosen up!

While my coffee is brewing I do my Microwave-hop, jump and dance and stretch, stretch, stretch :-)

I've found that doing this has strengthen my bones, improved my breathing, decreased stress on my joints. Hardly any  fatigue, due to increased more efficient muscle performance.

For hand and eye coordination I like to juggle couple of  balls. I read recently that squeezing those balls is good for lowering blood-pressure!

ON THE HERITAGE TRAIL IN ICELAND.

                                                 THE HERITAGE TRAIL.

My youngest daughter, Heidi, and I recently got back from Iceland. What a delightful trip, we went on the Ring-road stopping at places of interest to us, we have been to Iceland several times and were not stopping at the usual touristy places. We had something different on our minds.We were on our heritage trail.

From the time I was about six years old I went to my Grandparents farm in Vopnafjörður, on the east coast, every summer until I was in my early teens. Every Fall I would return to Reykjavik to be with my parents over the winter and go to school. Since I married and moved to America I had gone back home several times but always drawn to grandpa´s farm where I had spent so much of my growing up time. Hámundarstaðir was the name of the farm, this was on my Father´s side. I knew where Mother was from on the west coast, Breiðarfjörður, but had not really researched or pin-pointed exactly where.

I learned that she was born in Frakkanesi, Skarðshreppur Dalur. We drove along the entire coastline on one side and mountain ranges on the other. We tried to get to this church but the road became impassable for our vehicle. Maybe next time!
It was easy for me to imagine my mother as a young girl playing and running after sunspots like I used to do! Sweet memories, what a blessing.

FUN TRAVEL !

                                                       
When I heard about my Granddaughter Tashia's plan, to have a professional come to her Alpaca Ranch in Nebraska, May 12,13,14th, and teach her to shear the thirty+ Alpaca's that she had, I was all for watching the event.
The thought of it made me go down memory lane of growing up in Iceland;  holding down the sheep by the horns as Grandpa and my Uncle Bjössi sheared the wool off their body, using large scissors that they sharpened every so often, with the same lava-stone they used to sharpen their scythe-blades when cutting hay.

Plans were already in the works by my family for a party for my 93rd birthday on May 21st. to be held in Chicago. Since I also had plans to travel to Iceland right after that I packed two+ bags; cold weather and warm!

Lucille, (Herman #1) who lives near Lake Bloomingto, Illinois, picked me up and drove  to McDonalds, in Princeton, near I 80 where we met Chris (Christine, Herman #6), who drove from Chicago. She is Tashia's mother. She also, wanted to learn the Alpaca shearing technique. I jumped into her car and we continued west to Alma, Nebraska, where the Butterfield Alpaca Ranch is located, while Lucille drove back home.

After a wonderful weekend of learning about shearing and Alpaca fiber, and some hilarious moments of the temper of certain Alpaca, Chris and I left for home in Morton,Illinois on the 15th. She continued for her home in Chicago the next morning while I did some more packing and planning. On the 18th I drove my Honda CRV over to Lucille's house and left my car and got into hers. We drove to Chicago and had a fun-filled birth-day weekend with Heidi (Herman #10) and her fiance,Raymond, Della (Herman #9) and her husband, Al. Tim (Herman #8) and his wife, Bonnie,  Chris and her husband, Larry, who found this great place to celebrate!

Sunday May 20th, I got into the car with Della and Al and headed for Minnesota, where I had wonderful time watching my youngest grandchild, Morgan, try on some gorgeous wedding dresses for her wedding this Fall.

Then Della and I drove to Wisconsin to visit Marian (Herman #3) and grand-daughter Kristina and grandson Ed, then drove back to Minnesota.
Celebrated Memorial Day with great food and in the 90's, with Della, granddaughter Nicky, granddaughter Morgan, her finance, James and Della's husband Al. Take a good look at his shirt!!!

Will head for St. Louis, Illinois, Monday.and arrive in Iceland Tuesday morning...48degrees?!