Friluftsliv

One of our aunts from Michigan taught us this word the other day. It is Norwegian term defined as:

“A passion for nature cuts to the heart of what Scandinavians call friluftsliv (pronounced free-loofts-liv). The expression literally translates as ‘open-air living’”

BBC*

“Ever been to Norway in the winter? It is bone-chilling cold and dark…and everyone is outside, even when temperatures are below zero.”

Taken from the text our Aunt sent (if it is a quote she didn’t include the citation not knowing I was going to use it for this post)

This behavior is something that Zoe and I totally are in tune with when given the chance – our free reign of our screened in porch and backyard has been limited due to the complaints of one neighbor who doesn’t find Zoe (and sometimes my) welcoming everyone and everything into our ‘hood’ as pleasant. We still get plenty of time outside off leash in our backyard and on leash during our daily walks. In retrospect, since adopting this new “house arrest,” Zoe has been a lot calmer and hasn’t redirected her aggression issues in my direction as often – not to mention, since the dog door has been at least temporarily removed, the house has stayed a lot warmer. Wonder if the neighbor’s realize the overall positive impact they’ve had on my life. Maybe I’ll tell them so next time I see them 😊.

Anyhow, back to frilutsliv and our enjoyment of outdoor spaces. For instance, today the sun was shining and the sky was a clear light blue for our noon time walk which put us in a great mood. Since the temperatures had risen and the sun was doing its work, the snow has started to melt away. Overall this doesn’t bother us, but as it turned out, the snow bank I chose to jump up on to relieve myself (one of the important missions on our strolls), did not have the structural integrity under my front paws to support my weight and thus I started sinking…and fast. Turned out that by the time I finished my business my belly was on the snow and my head was even lower – very awkward to say the least. But even this little set back did not dampen my mood on this beautiful day.

And it isn’t only on these warm days that we enjoy the friluftsliv lifestyle – we’ve had some pretty bone chilling days this winter but nothing compared to those polar vortex days in Illinois (even those days we spent some time in the great outdoors but we tended not to linger and mull about like usual). Just the other day we had a couple good chases through the back yard:

Zoe even cleared off a seat at our bistro table and was looking around for the waitstaff who apparently did not share our love of the outdoors – or at least never stopped by to serve her. Seems the service at this place are as bad as it was back in Illinois.

The craziest thing about this whole story is that we didn’t know we were even Norwegian!!!

Best,

The Tempest

*https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20171211-friluftsliv-the-nordic-concept-of-getting-outdoors

For those who want some more cow pictures here are a few that are from a little closer vantage point. Unfortunately, the little scamp Wally came running through and scared them a bit so they backed away before we got our pictures. The cows are staying at his place so it was within his rights but I actually got a little concerned for his safety – he apparently doesn’t “see” size differences.

Note: we think “Betty” who was wandering the neighborhood the other day is the one on the left and the other one is the “real” Betty.

A Cow Was Involved

Ok. Before I start my story I have to give some credit for the title to our favorite canine detective Chet the Jet. He tells a story (A Cat Was Involved) of how he nearly graduated from Doggie Police School in Arizona except for the fact that a cat distracted him and caused him to end up getting expelled – which in hindsight was fortunate as he was able to join the Little Detective Agency where he has had quite the career and nailing perps around the greater Phoenix area when they aren’t apostlating about the need to conserve water in the low desert climate – especially during a drought.

Well this story has nothing to do with failing out, being a PI, or crime in general – at least I don’t think so.

A part of the story I forgot to tell yesterday is that I was so fixated on the scent of steaks – ultra fresh steaks – that I didn’t mention that when we passed by Micky’s house, at which he was standing half way down the driveway watching us, I did not give him a more than a brief acknowledgement. When a girl is SO close to a whole ton or so of steak, boyfriends are…meh.

And another thing I didn’t mention, due to the fact that I was not aware of this fact, is that there were not one but THREE cows boarding wtih our neighbor who has a barn. We found out this fact today on our mid-day walk.

This was a surprise to us as well as our parents since we caught the scent of the cheeky monkey (I think “Betty” is the one in the first photo) one who ambled about our neighborhood – even though it was a good 24 hrs later (our sniffers can pick out these things). Zoe once again lost her mind while I studiously maintained full concentration on the scent trail.

I must admit (as foretold by my knitted brow) that we were both pumped about the three steak factories we just discovered.

Upon our return home from our jaunt around the neighborhood, we got an email that was sent to our the neighborhood email group that we were recently added to (thanks to Y-F.), that suggested that all the people who referred to the milk the escapee could provide the neighborhood could use a biology lesson as milk was unlikely to flow from “Betty”.

The Tempest

President’s Day Parade

So today we were starting out for a walk when we caught a whiff of something unusual but yet still very familiar in an odd way. Mom was talking to a neighbor at the end of our driveway while they were on a walk with their new puppy, Chaplain. Apparently, they couldn’t get home on account of a cow standing in front of their house.

As I recall, cows are something we’ve seen up on the land in New Mexico, and may have seen a few other times while on our drives across country. In fact, I am also pretty certain that they are also something we sometimes get after our parents have eaten: but in this form it is called steak. Also, if I heard our neighbor Mr. E correctly, they also provide the milk that goes on the breakfast cereal or in mom’s coffee on those “latte days.”

As for Chaplain, he is a pretty feisty little guy who shares a similar coat color to myself. The human sister of Chaplain (who is maybe 3 or so – and is the youngest of 4 with three older brothers which just so happens to be the flip situation of our father) thinks I am his (Chaplain’s) mother and Zoe is his father. Guess the girl needs some education on reproduction at some point in her future and an explanation about the practice of spaying animals. Aside from that, she gives good pets and we like her canine bro but still need to put him in his place in certain instances.

So back to the whole cow on the loose thing. As we turned out of our driveway and onto our street, we saw Chappy talking to Ms. A and Mr. E who lives across the street from him. But we only caught a glimpse as our noses were glued to the ground on the scent of…of…a hamburger?

By the time we got to Ms. A and Mr. E, Chaplain was at home and the milk and steak had disappeared from our view but not our noses. Apparently, Ms. A (and Chaplain’s mother) had called the cops about this wayward bovine. Ms. A was told us it might be awhile before Car-lie-lee’s finest showed up since there was quite a lot of activity going down in town on this President’s Day! Boy, we are on the edge of our seats waiting for the next issue of The Mosquito’s police blotter!

Turns out the cow must have heard the cops were coming and turned about and fled back to the barn where she was crashing for a few days. And, it really was just in time as two police SUV’s and a pickup truck with some cowboys (?) came up the road behind us and headed off in the direction she was last headed. This town is full of action! And all sorts of large animals that we never saw around our house in Illinois.

Cows, cops and cowboys made for quite the spectacular President’s Day Parade down our street!

The Tempest

P.S. It gets better! It turns out the old goat knocked on our next-door neighbors door before heading off back home. He (Mr. Y-Z. W.) got some fabulous pictures of the beauty (which he kindly shared with us). My question (and Zoe concurs), since he was taking shots at her anyhow, why couldn’t we have ended up with steaks instead? 😇

Later we got an email confirming our suspicions: “At first she was curious and tried to come inside my house, then she found some shrubs to chomp in the backyard so lingered a while, until the police car drove by, when she took off into the woods to continue her spree of great escape. My daughter broadcasted the whole episode to her friends live and they called her Betty,” Y-Z. W.

Scoots

Recently, while watching our favorite North Irish Quintet (The Derry Girls), we learned a new definition for the word scoots – which happened to correspond with some GI issues Zoe was having. This has led my parents to often refer to her by this new (unfortunate*,**) nickname: Scoots.

*I personally find it really, really funny but Zoe does not appear to enjoy being called “Scoots”.

**And of course all the derivatizations of Scoots: Scooty, Scooty-pie, Scooter, Scoots-Boots, etc. (eye-roll)…

What makes me laugh even more is that they not only call her Scoots but sing it using the tune by Tag Team currently being used in a Geico commercial shown below. When it gets really good they try to dance like the couple in the ad – and Zoe often storms out of the room much like their teenage daughter. I tend to just sit in my chair and giggle but I have been contemplating joining in on the dancing.

“Scoot, there it is!”

Of course, until The Derry Girls, we have always used the word scoot to mean move something along – usually something that is a little reluctant to be displaced. Which brings us to last nights festivities best illustrated by Zoe’s latest Short Film:

https://videopress.com/v/TwJpGAaw?preloadContent=metadata

Scootin’ the Chair

The Tempest

Goose Party

Or should it be geese party. After a day devoted to A groundhog (Phil or Fill? As in Phil fulfills your fantasies about when “winter” will end) I get a bit confused by when you people decide something is plural or not, or when it is a proper pronoun (John) vs a non-proper noun (john) – but that was a rant I already shared recently.

Anyhow, today, we saw quite the spectacle on the way to the hardware store to buy some more paint – apparently this summer we did not paint EVERY surface of our new abode. Painting in general is something Zoe and I just don’t get: 1) color is apparently not being our strong suit, and 2) the god awful VOC’s permeating from recently painted surfaces offend our dainty olfactory sensibilities.

But alas, the two of us were tossed into the car – at which point Zoe decided she had not been heard in awhile and thus continued to bark incessantly as we made our way from Car-lie-lee to the previously mentioned (prior blog) Bill and Erica…a neighboring town in which the providers of paint have set up shop.

And as we were approaching said store, Dad put on the brakes (no stop light in sight) which got our immediate attention. As we looked out the window we saw to our left a number of geese sauntering toward the road – which caused Zoe to once again loose her mind (have I mentioned she goes into a frenzy for feathered flyers?). Then we looked in front of us and discovered the reason we had stopped (unexpectedly) was the advancement of a troop of Canadians…or is it Canadiens – I think we will have to defer to our Nordic friend Steve M. for the appropriate spelling – crossing the street at their so “north-of-the-border” slacker pace. Just as an aside, I suspect that if they were shod in ice skates they would have flown (so to speak) across our path.

This left us wondering what on earth would prompt them to risk their lives walking across a busy street – mind you they CAN fly.

Then, we made a turn onto River street which unsurprisingly goes over a river, at this point, the view almost blew my mind. There, where ice meets water were dozens, maybe hundreds or thousands of geese!

Poor quality pic of a gaggle of geese!

Unfortunately, since he was driving the picture was not of very high quality (and the cars behind him were already not happy since he stopped for the party goers walking across the street, so he had no time to stop!).

When we arrived home, we told everyone at our house about our adventure. At least we intended to until we discovered it was lunch time and the crew installing new windows at Chateau Tempest were waiting for our daily visit to their meal! They love me… every lunch time I manage to sneak down to look for a snack they say “it must be lunch time!”

The Tempest

“He was my boyfriend”

!

Frau Blucher (played by Cloris Leachman)

Although, if you watch the clip the quote should probably read: “He vas my boyfriend”

https://videopress.com/v/D8av0ydo?preloadContent=metadata

I bring this up now because I recently learned that Ms. Leachman had gone off to “college” at the age of 94! And this means, if I am not mistaken, that director Mel Brooks is the sole survivor of one of our all time favorite movies – Young Frankenstein – from which the above clip (exported from YouTube) originated. BTW – this just so happens to be my Aunt E’s favorite line which she often shouts out at random times in a very accurate (aka bad) German accent.

It also reminded me of one of my new best friends in the neighborhood who I often sing to when we pass his house and he is outside. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him my boyfriend but I may be (very) willing to consider a trade of Mickey for Zoe! 😉😘

https://videopress.com/v/TZst3C5T?preloadContent=metadata

“Oh Mickey, what a pity you don’t understand…Hey Mickey!”

Toni Basil

Note, I strain against the leash to get close to my friend, and then I extend a paw to say hello. Then, for some reason, he looks away. So to paraphrase the above song, “It’s Dogs like you Mickey!”

The Tempest