My lady, farewell.

"My lady, 

We used to rule the street - can you remember? 

We rolled off to your friends, 

to parties here and there. 

You smiled,

and there was sunshine in your hair.

Years ago. 

Time passed by. 

You moved on. 

Well then, now so go I"

Of the bike of a lady 

 whose feet can no longer carry it

Northern-Norway might be on one of the roads less travelled. That does not mean it is not worth going there. 

IN THE SHADOW BY THE POT MAKER´S HOUSE

North in Ghana there is a small village, Babile, where the sun tends to shine upon kettle and people living there. The heat there is intense and might be too much for a norwegian who is used to wrap herself in with jacket, gloves and scarf to protect herself from snow and wind. Under the heat of Babile I found the blessing of the shadow outside a pot makers house.

No stress nor heat could reach her front door when she spent the morning hours to transform clay into beautiful pots. Pots to store water. Pots that reveal the skills of lady who smiled wide and showed me great hospitality all the while I spent in her house. 

I am impressed.

A helping head

When I myself fail to limit how much I bring in my suitcase, I find it very convenient to have a man who is able to both use his head as well as giving me a helping hand on the way home.