I have been meaning to write about how our family made it through our first Norwegian winter (and first proper winter in general). But in order to write about our "survival" of "winter", winter had to be over. And only now, early July, do I finally feel confident that my tell-tale sign of winter, a.k.a. snow, will no longer rain down on my summer parade.
Of course, that is a lesson I learned the hard way, too. Like after Easter this year. The Easter weekend was gorgeous! Clear blue skies, rising temperatures and, most of all, no snow. All our neighbours were out in their gardens starting some spring cleaning and I decided to use the long weekend to swap our winter clothes for our summer clothes. Of course, I was a little more cautious with putting away our winter clothes than I would have been in Vancouver, but still.
After Easter, I dropped off Eluin at her barnehagen. As I was walking across the sunkissed playground, I called out to one of her teachers and said: "Wooohoooo! Spring is here!" To which he replied: "It will snow again at the end of the week." Haha. Funny guy. Thinking he can scare the tourist.
Of course, as I was shovelling the snow off our front steps two days later, the joke was very much on me. This incident taught me two very important lessons. 1) It can, and probably will, snow in April. And May. And I am sure sometimes in June, too. 2) Norwegian people do not joke about the weather. Ever.
But let's start at the beginning, say, somewhere in October. The first thing we realized, was that Norwegians are very well adapted to the wide ranges of temperatures, types of downpour and beauforts of wind that any given autumn in Norway can throw at you. This adaptability stems from the sheer abundance of base-layer, mid-layer, outer-layer, rain gear, shell pants, shell jackets, snowsuits, outdoor suits and ski jackets they have. The combinations of these layers is endless! However, there is a correlation between the type of weather and the combination of layers and it can take some time to figure out what to buy, when to put it on your child and, most importantly, which garments to have on stand-by should the weather change. Because it will ;-)
Thanks to Eluin's barnehagen, and the fact that they spend a lot of time outdoors, we got a quick course in Norwegian weather-adaptability. The course was quick, but it still took us some time to find the right gear, to pick the right gear for the right day and to convince Eluin that she really had to wear more clothes than she wanted. Nevertheless I am forever grateful that they took the time to explain things to us and to give us tips on where to find good deals on the gear Lulu needed.
Of course, being a mom of three, I figured I could just copy-paste the tips for Eluin onto the other girls (and myself). So, with some fiddling with sizes and layers, I felt pretty confident around the middle of November that I had successfully increased our weather adaptability. I swear I even got some jealous looks from Julie, our dog, who only had a winter coat and a summer coat to choose from...
But of course, once you have one thing covered, another thing pops up. Or, in this case, pops out. Like the light. Because part of living "up North" is going on a sunlight diet. It's not that it gets completely dark here, we're not that arctic, but there is definitely less light. And as a consequence, you need to dress your kids with reflective vests, headlights and blinkers on their backpacks in order for them not to end up as roadkill on their way to school. In fact, you might as well strap one of those fancy light-up collars on your dog, because if you let her off leash and she sprints away...well, good luck finding a black dog in a black field under a black sky.
For me, however, the biggest adjustment was indoor life. Or, more specifically, nightlife (but more on that later). With lower temperatures than I was used to, and the fact that the heating system was different than in the other homes I have lived in, this for me was the biggest thing. Now, in the Netherlands, most of us have what is called "central heating". You have a boiler that heats up water and all through the house you have radiators. Usually there is one central thermostat, so you can set the temperature for your entire home. However, with opening and closing the valves on the radiators in the different rooms, you can quite specifically adjust the warmth in your home to your particular needs.
In Canada, we did not have such fancy heating. In our first apartment, we had floorboard heaters. Which are pretty much electrical heaters, but place at such a height that they are ideal for crawling toddlers (read; Eluin) to roast there little fingers on or for grown-ups (read; Roos) to fry their toes on if you accidentally step on it. In our second apartment, the heat was switched on once a year and switched off once a year. With no ability to adjust it in between. That was not my favourite place to live, heatingwise, for sure.
Here in Norway, however, we have three different heat systems in place. Downstairs in the basement, we have two rooms with floor heating (LOVE IT!). Every room upstairs (including our washroom next to the front door) has electrical heaters mounted to the wall. And our living room of course has a very cute Jotul wood stove.
Now, in theory, Jotul would be my favourite and preferred way to heat our home. It's cosy, it's Norwegian, it's romantic. For some reason I feel it is less of a fire hazard then the electrical heaters. And, most importantly, it is cheaper than the electrical heaters. This is particularly important because I am married to Mr. Stingy. He likes to save money every step of the way. Being Ms. Spendthrifter, I have come to appreciate his penny-pinching approach to life, because if we save money on one part of our life, I have more money to spendthrift with in other parts of our life. Sometimes, however, the prioritization of where to pinch and where to spend might be open for reconsideration...
So, as I said, in theory we would use jolly Jotul to warm our home. In practice, that worked out really well...if we managed to light it. Once lit, it did warm our home brilliantly. The problem of course lies in the "once lit" part.
Holy shit.
Forget about Norwegian courses to learn the language! Forget about learning about Norwegian holidays and how to celebrate them! There is but one thing of crucial importance when you move to Norway and that is TO LEARN HOW TO BUILD A FIRE!!!! We need tips on kindle, how to heat up the smoke channel when there is snow on your chimney, how to keep it going, etc.
I spent countless hours trying to light the friggin' white monster, only to give up, put on an extra layer of wool and start baking yet another cake, so I could at least put the oven on and generate heat that way. Of course, I could have put on the electrical heaters, but I would not give Mr. Stingy that satisfaction ;-)
Now, the fact that we do not use our electrical heaters might seem stupid and stubborn to Norwegians. And it probably is. But to me it is equally stupid that in a country where one experiences sub-comfortable temperatures for the better part of the year, your "most convenient" option for heating your house are power-guzzling, inefficient, smelly (yes, that could improve if we cleaned our house more often), fire-hazardous, electrical heaters. So I refuse to give in.
Even if that means that our girls refer to the washroom next to the front door as the "summer washroom, the "outhouse" or, as a Dutch-English word joke, the "koudhouse" (koud meaning cold in Dutch). Or the fact that my friend goes to the washroom before coming to our home because she is afraid to freeze off her patooties if she has to use our koudhouse. Next time, just give me a heads-up before you come over and I will put the heater on in our washroom especially for you ;-)
Even if that means that our bedrooms are as warm and cozy as an igloo. I think that is where my biggest adjustment lies in adapting to Norwegian winter. Before moving to Norway, I had to principles when it came to sleeping. 1) I slept with the window open. 2) I slept with as little clothes on as possible. I know, probably too much information ;-) Nonetheless, if you are used to sleeping like that, it takes some time to adjust.
In our case, the answer was wool. Lots of it! During our stay in Canada, I had already invested in woollen 4-season duvets. My all time favourite duvets, because they are never too warm and they are nice and heavy. I thought that would be enough. Alas...
For years, we have had a memory foam mattress and memory foam pillows, because we both love the way it supports our bodies at night. Little did we know, however, that memory foam comes with an optimal temperature. And that if you go below that temperature, it turns, well, less foamy and more rocky. So the first 10 minutes in bed were spent thawing out the memory foam enough to accommodate our curves again.
That changed once we got a woollen under blanket to put on top of our mattress. Getting flannel sheets also helped. As did giving up on the whole "as little clothing as possible concept". I actually became a huge proponent of the "as much clothing as possible concept". On any given night, I would crawl on top of my woollen blanket, under my double woollen duvet, wearing a woollen longsleeve, woollen long johns and woollen socks. Perhaps for next winter I should just buy a sheep and put that on every night!
Needless to say, the excess of clothing and the cold are not particularly conducive to keeping things "interesting" between the sheets. Believe me, we have tried, but results have so far not been very satisfactory. The whole on-the-rug-in-front-of-the-fireplace is of course a plausible alternative, but as that is not technically between the sheets, I feel it would not count. Judging by the fact that there are numerous highly pregnant ladies around in July, one has to conclude that Norwegians have figured out a way...probably by just switching on those darn heaters, I presume ;-)
For the kids, sleeping in winter has not been much of a problem. First of all, the lack of daylight actually makes my two notorious insomniacs (Jura and Eluin) sleep like babies. I will not comment on their sleeping patterns in summer when there is an excess of daylight ;-) Jura, Nori and Eluin have grown quite fond of their hot water bottles, especially if I put them between their blankets a little before they crawl into bed. I have been woken by Eluin a couple of times in the dead of night, with her pushing a cold water bottle in my face and the admonition: "It is cold. You need to fill it again."
In the morning, I wake them up by putting the clothes they are going to wear that day under the blankets with them, so they can warm up a little. And the cats obviously also help to keep them warm at night ;-)
All in all, this first winter has been hard work. But on the other hand it is rather cool (pun intended ;-)) to experience a proper winter. To learn to adjust, to push your boundaries and to accept that you still have a lot to learn. With the near constant daylight we have right now in summer, I kind of long for the winter darkness. For the coziness and the holidays. I love the fact that I can now really knit to my heart's content, because here you get to use your woollen goodies pretty much year round.
However, if someone knows about a course in fire-lighting techniques, please fill me in, because that is one course I would like to join! :-)
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