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My Dad's Story~As He Told It To Me (Continued from previous posting below)

     Although their new home was in Alabama, Arthur’s first years wouldn’t see much of the land for the young family sailed with the captain who was his father. It was a world surrounded by water that was to cement itself in his memory as the earliest definition of home that Arthur would know. Conceived on the ocean it was only natural that the sea-legs he was born to have would carry him through his first steps over the rolling deck of the freighter his father commanded as it sailed over the gentle swells of the sea. But the years would pass quickly and Edvard would soon reach the age for schooling so mother and sons left the ship to make their home ashore in the lazy-warm southern days of Mobile Alabama. Their sailing days would be restricted to the summer months when school was out and it was at sea where Arthur believed that he was truly home. He spent his days exploring the ship which was his backyard. At eight years old he climbed the ladder to the top of the foremast not knowing that he was being observed from the wheelhouse by his father who summoned him to the bridge the moment he got back down. Expecting to be punished for going where he didn’t belong he found himself catching “holy-hell” only for climbing the ladder by holding the rungs which could be rusty and easily break. Any good sailor knows, his father admonished, that you must always hold on to the sides of the ladder and in the future he better see his son observing that safety precaution when he decides to climb a mast. He was then sent to the ship’s carpenter to find some work to help with. While children on the land had their chores to help out around the house a ship-captain’s children were given chores to help out with the sailor’s duties and Arthur soon found a good friend and teacher in helping the ship’s carpenter.

      For two little boys the economic crash of 1929 wouldn’t diminish their enthusiasm for Christmas. Their house was fragrant with the scent of fruitcakes, nut breads and the sweet and spicy aroma of their mother’s fatigman, a traditional Norwegian Christmas cookie. Packages sat in the corner, wrapped and waiting, for the tree the boys would cut themselves although they would wait until the last moment to put it up in hopes that it would remain fresh for their father’s return from sea just a few weeks after the holiday. He had been at sea for many months shuttling cargo between European ports but he was homeward bound now and the boys were looking forward to seeing him again. A letter had come just a week before Christmas with stories of the sea and foreign ports and a special note for each son. He missed them terribly and wished he could be home for the holiday and although his vacation wouldn’t begin until the end of this trip he would still be home for Arthur’s tenth birthday in March. It had been over six months since they last saw him and they were all anxious for the reunion. He hinted of a wooden crate full of gifts for everyone and how much he looked forward to bringing it home. So their Christmas tree would remain decorated for the homecoming and for two happy little boys Christmas would come twice.

     Sailing from Hamburg under a dark winter sky the captain stood on the bridge-deck thinking of home and also thinking of the weather he was sailing toward. Not far to the west lay a low pressure center, halted by the higher pressures standing in the way. The air moving around the center, being swung around harder and faster, was building the storm’s power even greater. The captain knew he couldn’t make any headway in this weather and that it was only a matter of staying hove-to until it blew over. The seas rolled eastward and the wake of the ship soon disappeared as the sea gained momentum and power. Looking into the low hanging clouds, his face showing that he was deep in his thoughts, he sent up a silent prayer for the safe voyage that would return him to his family. His only answer was the wind whistling and howling through the rigging. Suddenly one swell loomed up ahead, larger than the others. The bow, having just been lifted high over the last wave, was turned down into the trough driving the next wave right into it almost to bury the entire forward end of the ship. The captain called orders to the mate to reduce the speed five more revs but to himself muttered a hope that the storm wouldn’t build up anymore as he barely had steerage-way already. With added fury the waves rushed on, hitting the deck with thundering crashes, but even a storm cannot stop the work that must be done on board ship and the captain took it as his own responsibility to check hatch-covers and lashings first hand. Wearing his fowl-weather gear and grasping the life-line that was strung from the ladder to the main deck and along the hatch coamings he made his way down to the deck. Taking hold of yet another line he continued on to the foc’sle head to make certain that the deckload was stable and check the lashings before he would take his leave to the galley for supper.

     At home, it was only four days before Christmas and preparations were well under way. A long and colorful paper chain was strung from one end of the living room to the other. Paper snowflakes adorned the windows, belying the mild weather of the south. The storm, so furious in the mid-Atlantic, wasn’t even known to the folks in Mobile. School had ended for the winter break and report cards were proudly displayed among the few Christmas cards they had. The house was warm and fragrant with spices as the fruitcake had finally been released from it’s rum-soaked bondage when a young courier rode up to their porch on his bicycle with a telegram bringing news that would forever change their lives. The boy’s father, their mother’s husband, had disappeared from the ship. Lost at sea, he was last seen climbing down to the deck to check the load and it was assumed that he had been washed over by a wave. He was missed in the officer’s galley during supper but by that time he had long disappeared into the sea.

     Arthur’s tenth birthday came the following March but instead of celebrating it with his father home on vacation he found himself once again on board ship with his mother and brother steaming their way back to Norway, where they would live until he once again boarded a steamship as a deckhand only 7 years later.

This concludes the first chapter of my father's life ~ To be continued.....
(c)2005

http://www.essentialbliss.etsy.com/

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By My Dad and Me ~ Continued....

(Note ro reader:  This is part two.  If you haven't read part one yet, you can scroll down a bit to my Sept 12th post titled "My Dad and Me" ~  Follow my blog and be notified each time I post more of my father's amazing life story.)

Off the coast of Norway on the island of Stord at the mouth of the Hardanger Fjord perched a tiny sod-roofed cottage built over a boathouse. It’s bright colors added a cheerful note to the dreary gray of the sea and sky. At first glance it seemed as if the sea could easily reach up and grab the little house and pull it right back in but the stone foundation held fast against the fury of the waves and this storm, like it’s many predecessors, would not penetrate the cozy warmth inside. There were only two rooms and a kitchen, and although there was no sign of luxury, the old carved and painted furniture and handmade rugs, knitted afghans and embroidered tablecloths gave it an air of respectability. The only access to the boathouse below, other than the big doors where the boats were pulled in, was through a trap-door in the kitchen floor.

In the bedroom, in a huge bed that her father had made and where she herself was born, lay the captain’s wife in the pains and agony of childbirth. Her worried thoughts were mostly of her husband at sea in such weather and were interrupted only by the pain of each contraction and at times a cry could be heard above the howling wind outside. It wasn’t to be much longer and soon, almost within reach of the angry grasping sea a child was born. A son. The wail of the tiny infant sounded puny and weak compared to the howl of the storm and he was given the name Ingard Arthur. Although he would go by his middle name, Arthur, he would come to be known by many throughout his life simply as “Cap”.

It wasn’t long before June came and the midnight sun reflected off the chilly waters of the Hardanger Fjord like many diamonds floating out to the sea. Arthur, just three months old, was to travel from his birthplace with his mother and brother to join his father in America who had taken command of a ship with an American steamship company and their plan was to reunite in the captain’s new home port. As they steamed out from the fjord and across the bay they sailed right past the island and the tiny boathouse that was home. Holding her new son in her arms with a toddler at her side, the young mother stood on the deck watching her tiny but cheerful home grow smaller in the distance. She would miss her little boathouse with the big view of the glaciers that mirrored an upside-down landscape over the fjord and she couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever see her family home again. They had lived in America before, in Philadelphia, where their first child Edvard had been born and the new parents had taken a new citizen ship. Such a great opportunity to be an American but right now all she could think about were the little flowers that were blooming in the grasses of her sod roof.

To Be Continued ....
this text is from copyrighted materal (c)2002

Violets Are On The Way!!

Last week I was busy putting up 20 jars of Violet scented bath salts ~ my new favorite and it's just lovely! ~ and also 40+ pretty 2 oz packages that are a nice size to try but so pretty that they would make a perfect gift or stocking stuffer for the bather in your life.  I'll get a photo up soon ~ yesterday and the day before were my "work days" ~ In the meantime here's the label.

I am also in the middle of having a large roll of the backside labels printed up and was told they would be ready in a couple weeks, maybe sooner... so I am waiting for those before I list the Violet in my etsy store.

Inspired by another entrepreneur recently, I drafted a pretty coupon to sell for $10.  That's right, I said SELL!  It is listed at http://www.essentialbliss.etsy.com/ and once purchased you will receive it digitally, which you can print because it's pretty, but it will also come with a coupon code that is good for a 50% discount.... that's right..... 50%!!!!  So what a great way so save on your Christmas shopping!  For a one-time use it will be good on your entire purchase.  The coupon itself would make a great gift for your bathing enthusiast and can be tucked into a stocking or a pretty little gift pouch hanging on the tree ~ what a great way for someone to stock up on their bath salts!

After the coupon is purchased a one-time-use code will be in the place of the question marks.

Now I am going to post more on my dad's story...... the continuation continues.

Floating on a Pretty Cloud of Violets....

Today I finished up making and packaging 20 jars and over 40 2-oz pretty packages of my newest scent bath salts ~ Violet.  I am hoping that by the end of the week I will have all my pics taken and ready to post on my store at http://www.essentialbliss.etsy.com/

A couple friends of mine have encouraged me to tell this little story.... shhhhh... don't let my husband know I told!

Over the years I taught my husband the art of taking a lovely bath and I can now say that he is a true bather.  Not the "get in the tub and scrub yourself clean" kind but the "soak in the fragrant bliss of heavenly water" kind.  Now mind you, he's hardly the dandy-boy type... in fact, far from it.  He does, unfortunately, live with constant pain and mostly for that reason he loves to soak in the tub.  He has been known to lay in our huge clawfoot tub for over an hour at a time because while he's soaking in the warm water he's not in pain.

I do admit though, like myself, he has grown very fond of lovely high-quality bath salts and since I have been making them he enjoys being my primary guinea pig very much.  For a long time his favorite scent was the Lilac but that one has taken 2nd place to our new Violet scent.  My former favorite was the Sweet Pea, and although I still love it a lot, it has taken to the number 2 position to the Violet with me... for now anyway.

The other night I went to check on my husband because he was soaking in the tub for so long I wanted to make sure he hadn't drowned.  There he was... surrounded by candles and fully stretched out in our really big tub (thanks to you Princess!) and I asked him "what are you doing in there so long" and he answered, "just floating on a cloud of violets". 

So the moral of this story is pretty simple.... "Hey Guys!!!! Taking a lovely bath is for you too!!!"

P.S.  I have started sharing stories from my dad's life that he and I wrote together and the first installment is just below this post so you can scroll down a bit to read it.... I will post a continuation of the story on Friday.

Goodnight!  I'm filling the tub as I write!!!!!

My dad and me

In 2001 my husband and I left our home, jobs and life in Nevada to come to my home town of North Bend, OR to take care of my parents.  My mother was in the late stages of Alzheimer's Disease at the time and between my and dad I we were able to keep her home where she could retain a feeling of safety and being loved until she passed away in 2005.  After my mom passed, it was just my dad and me for another precious 18 months. 

For six years I was blessed with this time with my parents and during this time my dad and I spent time together writing his story.  I have decided to share what the two of us managed to write here on my blog, in segments and always to be continued.  My father was a Master Mariner who started his sailing career at the age of 17, as a deck-hand, which is the lowest entry level job on a ship.  By the time he celebrated his 28th birthday he had already achieved his master's license.  He was a ship captain, my mom's "sailor man", and was licensed to skipper any ship, of any tonnage in any waters of the world... and that he did.  The following is the beginning of his story as told by him to me.

      "A late winter storm had been building up in the North Atlantic threatening all seafarers that this was no place to play around. Except where whitecaps broke, stringing out their lacey trails, the huge swells forced their way eastward building ever higher as they went along. Fighting bravely to hold her own against the fury, a freighter was rolling and pitching heavily. Her decks awash with the sea as each wave hit her, smashing into hatch comings and deck houses, she would struggle to free herself, throwing the water off, only to face another assault from the sea that was racing toward her. The water ran down her sides carrying bits of rust that had been blown astern to disappear back into the sea. With smoke pouring out of her stack she could barely clear each swell before it broke over her deck where it would swirl around in the down-draft behind the midshipshouse and be pushed over the poop-deck, streaming out over the foaming wake. Along the after-deck a life line had been strung out close to the hatch-coamings and at every change of the deck-watch men could be seen hanging on as they made their way midships. Her sides, once painted a glossy black were streaked with rust showing signs of her battle with the sea that had been going on for several days.

     Sheltered from the wind and water behind the glass of the wheelhouse windows stood the ship’s captain as he stared at the leaden swells towering above the ship’s deck. His face was showing the strain of the past several days, unshaven and drawn with red-rimmed eyes from lack of sleep. A pipe was clenched tightly between his teeth only to be removed occasionally to be re-filled and fired up again. Between the pipe that was becoming sour and the many cups of coffee his complaining stomach was beginning to feel much like the weather outside resembling each swell of the angry sea.
    
     The son of many generations of seafarers with a rich Viking heritage the captain was younger than most men in command of a ship. He had been raised on the ships his father commanded, spending many days of his youth helping out in the various sailor’s duties to pass the time, which gave him the years of experience at sea that were required. He had been in storms before but this time it wasn’t just the storm that brought the lines of worry to his face. In spite of the fury outside his mind was full of concern for his young wife. She had sailed many voyages with him before but had to leave this one several months before and had gone back to her family’s home to give birth to their second child who was expected to arrive at any time. With thoughts of the child his face would light up. They had one son already and he was hoping for another boy as he dreamed of the pleasures of future voyages with his family aboard, teaching his sons the ways of the sea as he had been taught. It would sure liven up the lonely life that a ship master lived. With that his thoughts drifted back in time a little to the days and nights when this child-to-be was most likely conceived. They had been in the tropics then, warm nights with a full moon laying a yellow band over the water and the air heavy with the fragrant moisture that was carried out to sea from the tropical growth. An ideal setting for romance and the memories warmed him, but the wild motion of the ship and the crash of water as it hit the bridge-deck and wheelhouse brought him back to reality and his struggle with the storm."

To be continued....


from the book (c)2002

New Lilac Fragrance Just Listed

I just finished listing my new Lilac fragrance on http://www.essentialbliss.etsy.com/ ~ This sweet fragrance is dedicated to my dear and oldest friend Claudia, whom is known by my family as "Princess Claudia" ~ I am known by her family as "Jan the Brat" or just "Brat" (it's a long story!)

So because I blended this fragrance for her upon her royal request I have decided to dedicate it to her.  Every jar and every 2-oz package has a sticker on it with a tiara and says "For the Princess" ~ You might have a "princess" in your life, if so then this would make a sweet gift!  I also listed my new 2-oz packages in my etsy store... they are sweet and pretty, a little trial size that is pretty enough to be a sweet gift or a perfect stocking stuffer.... which reminds me of a cute story, and  I am sure my princess friend would appreciate this memory...

Claudia and I have known each other and have been the dearest of friends for about 55 years!  Needless to say, we know each other pretty well.  Some years ago she owned the most beautiful bath shop ~ Splendour In The Bath ~ to be found anywhere and she carried wonderful high-end products that would make any bathing enthusiast burn with bathing lust.

One Christmas my dear, sweet husband lamented that he couldn't think of what to get me for a gift, even though every year I would tell him that I always love anything that smells pretty, and anything consumable is always the perfect gift.  He can give it year after year because as each Christmas rolled around I would have used up last year's soaps, lotions and bath soaks and salts and would always need and appreciate more!

So, one year my husband called Claudia at her bath store and asked her to pick out what she thought "Jan would like", gave her his credit card number but forgot to recommend a budget to remain within.  What can I say?  Claudia is my oldest friend and here she was, picking out my Christmas without a budget!  Needless to say, it was the best Christmas ever!  High-five to you my princess friend!

New pics here....   (also, scroll down to my coupon ~ it's not going to last forever and it's the biggest one out there!)