Yesterday, I registered with the police and also with the Folkeregister (to get a national ID number). For each of these steps, I had to find the correct location, take a number, wait, and finally have very efficient state employees help me with the paperwork.

As a reward for being patient with the process, I allowed myself to go to the Munchmuseet when I was done. This wasn't planned--when I got off the subway at Toyen (where the Folkeregister was), a sign informed me that the museum was nearby. I quite happily searched it out once I was done and really enjoyed it, especially the exhibit on the Scream and Madonna, Munch's most famous pieces. This exhibit had many different versions of each work in a variety of media. I especially enjoyed learning about the Madonna figures with their combination of eroticism and religious meaning. Another piece that I found intriguing was "The Voice/Summer Night." Be sure to check out this link to see the painting. It's dark and moody mitigated somewhat by the promise of small streaks of light.

Munch's work typifies a more despairing view of life that can be quite evocative. His figures are often faceless and alone (he even titled several versions of two figures "The Lonely Ones"). I wonder if Munch's work expresses a Norwegian sensibility of some sort??? In any event, I hope that my understanding of Norwegian culture deepens over the coming months.

For now, though, I am exploring this city. I walk its streets, gaze at the fjord from the harbor near my apartment, acquaint myself with my new neighborhood, and look into people's faces, familiarizing myself with a place that will, I'm sure, become home to me.

The kids popped in and out, relaxing in the living room with us for periods of time before running off to the back room to watch t.v. and play.

I've said this frequently this summer: in blogs, in conversation, in person. I love these people. They are my community--and their affection buoys me as I embark on my next adventure.

Samina helped me pack today. Andre arrives tomorrow. Toni will make dinner for us and my best friends. And then it's one more day of errands and packing before I go. I suspect that my next blog entry will be written in an airport or in Oslo itself.

But for now, I walk around my home, focusing on the present, feeling contentment, and reflecting on my summer.

I'm ready.

Right now, I don't feel ready. Logistically, I have a lot left to do. Emotionally, I'm still working on being strong and confident about this change. Personally, I feel a gamut of emotions.

I don't know what the coming year will bring. I'm not sure how I'll assimilate to my new surroundings--and how living in Norway will change me. The unknown can be both scary and exciting. It can reinvigorate one's relationship to the world, which is what I'm hoping for. I don't want to even think about other possibilities.

Kathee, Maddie, Carrie, Jake and Sam

Today we all met at a park in North Ogden, Utah underneath a peak that a great great grandmother dubbed Ben Lomond because it reminded her of the mountain close by her home in Scotland.

Front: Mom, Dad, Kathee
Back: Ted, Matt, David, Jim

I hadn't seen the whole family together since my grandfather's funeral last year. This year, everyone was able to make it except my niece Kelli's husband Kevin (who had to work), my sister-in-law Angie and my niece Natalie, who is still in the hospital. I was really glad I could see most of my family before I take off for Europe--they are so important to me. It meant a lot that my two grown up nephews, Nate and Zac, both came. Nate was on his way to Bear Lake to spend the weekend with friends--but he stayed at the park quite awhile chatting. He's been working as an apprentice to an electrician but is trying to decide what to do with the rest of his life. Zac will graduate college this year and will apply for Ph.D. programs in Political Theory. He's a great student and I hope he'll get into the schools in California that he is considering--although I think he'd probably rather go back east.

My sister-in-law Emily, Mom, Nate

Zac, Kathee, Ashlie

It also meant a lot that I could see Kelli, who is a Political Science major at Weber State, and Steven who just graduated from high school and is on his way to Utah State University this fall. It's really wonderful to see these kids become adults, to see them make grown up decisions as they venture out in the world.

Kathee and Kelli

Kenny and Steven

I'm also really proud of my teenaged nieces and nephews. Ashlie has been taking care of her sister Rylann this summer while Natalie's been in the hospital. She'll be in eighth grade this year but was so responsible as she watched Ry play today. This has been a rough summer for my brother Ted's family--but they are all so loving to each other and have worked hard to make sure that Ry, who is just four, is taken care of.

Addie enjoyed reading Stephanie Meyer's new book today and talking with Ash. Maddie also enjoyed reading today, a Henry Reed book. And the younger kids, Ry, Jason, Kenny, Rachel, Josh, Jake, and Sam played on the jungle gym and even had a water fight.

Since I grew up with four brothers, their wives have become an important part of my life. They are such good women--and a lot of fun to be around. They've given me a taste of how much I missed by growing up without sisters. At least I have four wonderful sisters now (we missed you today, Angie).

Front: Kathee and Emily
Back: Carrie and Diane

Since the majority of the pictures I have are ones I took, I wanted to make sure I was in the pictures with my family this time. I'll want to have these pictures with me over the next year when I'm so far apart from them. And I realized that we didn't really have a picture of all the siblings all grown up.

Front: Jim, Kathee
Back: Ted, Matt, David

The only complaint I have about days like today is that I can't spend a lot of time with each person getting caught up on the more personal stuff. I tried to make sure to talk to everyone, but there's never enough time--and with so many people around it's a little distracting.

So. Family. I really love each and every one of you.

I fell in love with the box.

Then I opened it and took this out.

You may need something to compare it with, so here is the Kindle next to a regular size book.

It's tiny. It's light. It's cute (can I call a piece of technology "cute"?).

I've already charged it up (fast!) and loaded three books on it (very, very fast).

I haven't really read much on it yet--except the first part of the directions. So far, it seems really easy to use. It's actually lighter than most books I read, and I think it will be easy on my eyes. The device will also allow me to annotate text with its tiny keyboard.

So far, I'm really happy with this decision. I'll keep you posted.

Here are some of the books I think I can't live without.

The Heath Anthology of American Literature (parts D & E, the last 2 volumes)
Gloria Anzaldua's Borderlands/La Frontera
Poetry (Elizabeth Bishop, Mary Oliver, Lorna Dee Cervantes)
Margaret Cruikshank's Learning to Be Old (I want to write an article using this book)
Alice Munro books (again, for the article I want to write)
My book on HTML
My travel books on Norway and London (since I'll be going there to visit friends while I'm in Europe)

I also need to buy a book on immigration and another on the American election system. Although I know I can find a lot of information on the internet, the bookworm in me feels a need to have a mini-library to rely on.

I've also been thinking for months about buying Kindle, a book reader that would insure that I always have something to read when I'm on the road in Norway. It's expensive, though, and I keep wondering how practical it is. It only weighs 10 ounces (cool!) and can hold up to 200 books. But in Europe, I'll have to transfer books to the device using a USB port--and I wonder how long that will take. It's also yet one more thing to carry with me when I travel--and I already have so many devices that need to be recharged!

Decisions, decisions.

"The Sun Is the Source" by Pure Horsehair

1. I used to adore shredded beef tacos. Now I prefer fish tacos.

2. I cut three trees down in my front yard. I've replaced them with plants and sparse but growing lawn.

3. I swore by PCs. Now I don't know how I ever lived without my Mac.

4. Soon I will sell my car. I'll use public transportation for the 10 months that follow.

5. Summer Institute 2008 ends tomorrow. I have 14 new friends.

Change. For years, I looked for tacos similar to the ones I loved in Tempe. The missing three trees left scars still present in my front yard. I just got rid of my PC a few weeks ago, even though I hadn't really used it in months. I'm ambivalent about selling my car. All week, I've felt a little melancholy about the end of SII 2008.

Change can open new opportunities. Sometimes I need to convince myself of this. . . . Or wait until I feel new possibilities.

Life moves me forward, whether I like it or not.

What do I desire? Love. Loyalty. Strength. Spontaneity.

Progress.

"Mr. Lourenço gathered his thoughts one more time. 'He [Fernando Pessoa] is the most tragic of the Portuguese poets,' he said. 'The pleasure of unhappiness is particularly Portuguese.'"

I lived in Portugal for 16 months in the early 80's. This quote made me think of a particular image: an older man, grey haired and grizzled, wearing a worn black suit. He has the look of a fisherman, dressed in the clothes he wears to Mass. On the lapel of his suit is a bright red carnation, providing a striking contrast to the somber colors of everything else about his being. There is a look of anguish on his face, as he aimlessly walks, noises of grief emerging through his clenched lips. If memory serves, this day is a holiday, the Dia de Liberdade (Day of Freedom) in which the Portuguese celebrate the coup that led to the current democratic regime.

When I asked someone to explain why the man seemed so sad, she replied: "This holiday is a day for people to remember how great Portugal once was and how low it has sunk in the world's estimation." This man became emblematic for me of that quintessential Portuguese trait, "the pleasure of unhappiness," the yearning for things lost.

In actuality, this is part of my continuing quest to find ways to stay connected to my friends when I'm in Norway. I also have a Skype account . . .

It's been fascinating to look at some of my friends' pages. My friend Karen's friends are almost all musicians--so interesting to see what an important part of the Fresno music scene she is. My friend Therese has friends from all over the world. My friend Madhu's page illustrates his diverse interests (biology, the green movement, and all things internet). My nephew Steven loves the Utah Jazz and has A LOT of friends.

Still haven't done too much work on my pages. I guess I have to think a little about how I want to represent myself.

See you on My Sp/Facebook.

Addendum: Oh, my. I can play Scrabulous on Facebook. The real world may never see me again. Ciao!

Over the first few meeting days, the leadership team (Joanne, Karen, Kathy and I) and guest teacher consultants laid a strong foundation for the summer. Jeana, Leah, and Eric gave teaching demonstration lessons as models for our participants who will teach demonstration lessons once during the summer. Jeana's energy, Leah's creativity, and Eric's engaging and well planned lesson made for compelling models of writing instruction. It's so rewarding each year to see the light bulbs go off in our K-16 teacher participants as they excitedly talk about how they could use the modeled strategies in their classes.

Molly and Linsey gave our first Fellow teaching demonstration lessons. Both seemed at ease and enthusiastic about their lessons. Molly had gone to a friend's class so she could try out the lesson she had developed on adding descriptive detail to writing. And Linsey presented curriculum which she had used effectively with her third grade classes. In addition to learning new strategies, I also learned that planets must be round, have their own orbit around a star, and that the orbit must have a circular shape. Poor Pluto. I think I need to repeat third grade!

Our participants also wrote their first of four essays this week and participated in writing groups. Sandra was so proud of her work that she asked to read the final draft to us on the day it was due. She's a science teacher who felt she'd benefited greatly from her writing group. Her essay was a moving exploration of her evolving sense of identity using shoes as its organizing metaphor.

We also work to help participants see the underlying theoretical positions of writing curriculum. This week, I did a workshop on approaches to writing instruction, and Karen presented on backwards design (planning curriculum with the end assessment in mind). Personally, I want our teachers to become more strategic about their writing instruction. I want them to understand how to scaffold curriculum, how new activities fit into what they are trying to accomplish with their writing instruction, and how they can best help their students learn to enjoy and feel proud of their writing.

Reading groups, socials, discussions about teaching, collaboration--these are all important components of the Summer Institute. Participants sacrifice a month of their treasured summer to do this--evidence of their commitment to teaching. It's a busy, sometimes overwhelming experience. But when I finished the SII in 2006, I felt rejuvenated . . . I think I've been a better teacher ever since. I think that will be true for our participants this year, too, if the first week is any indication of their passion and intellectual energy.

Yesterday, we drove up to King's Canyon National Park to see the giant sequoias. Diane had visited Fresno during my first year here, and we'd made the same trip. She wanted her kids to see these enormous trees. I loved when we saw the first sequoia as we drove into the park. The kids oohed, aahed, and wowed, obviously surprised by how amazing these trees are.

We walked around the Grant Grove, admiring the trees and clambering on the rocks.

The kids crawled through tree crevices.

And gathered enormous pine cones.

We were all impressed by the General Grant tree, the third largest tree in the world, and the widest tree at 40 feet across.

We stopped at a fruit stand on the way home, trying different varieties of plums and nectarines. I wish I'd taken a picture of Kenny eating his first plum ever. This picture will have to do.

And Addie ate fruit all night, labeling her crisp white paper bag of fruit unmistakably as hers.

Last night, we made pizza, looked at pictures of Norway and San Francisco, and danced to disco music. You read that right. Jim and Diane did the swing in my living room. The kids did the worm and other impressive dance moves. I played the DJ and danced a little myself. It was a surprising turn of events--and so much fun. I wish we all lived closer to each other so this could happen all the time. I need more practice with my dance moves. Oh, and I really love my family!

After a year of getting healthy, Natalie was finally put on the transplant list. Earlier this month, she was notified that there was a kidney available. She traveled to Salt Lake, arriving to find that a clerical error had sent the kidney elsewhere. Last week, she finally had a transplant. However, because Natalie is so petite and the kidney was from a much larger person, there were difficulties with the transplant. Eventually, the doctors had to remove the kidney. After a few days, they released her from the hospital. Over the last week, her body has tried to expel 11 liters of extra fluid. Yesterday, she fainted, stopped breathing, and was rushed back to the hospital. The doctors found three leaking arteries that they've now patched up. She's in a lot of pain, but we are hopeful that her health will now improve.

Please keep her and her family in your thoughts and prayers. They've all been through a lot this year.