I might give a little bit of thanks too

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I might give a little bit of thanks too

(here is a little bit of text to fill the space when it is posted to Facebook so you cannot read my blog without clicking the link)

Given my own space to be

Even when I was ill and let everybody down

Even when I wandered lost around the long country roads in a fever

I now know where I am, but it took a while.

Now recovered I relax

Meanwhile if you want a detailed drawing of the underside of the upper bunk let me know

I can recall every detail

or perhaps the back of the loo door

moving on

moving swiftly on

how many of you readers can say you have been collected as soon as you were ready and taken to a woodland full of tents and fires and wonderful people

To spend time where everything is ok

Where you discover Viking Ris (Barley grains cooked to perfection) served with wild garlic and root vegetables like you have never experienced

Even the water from the earthenware jug was amazing

To be taken from there to the chieftains house

To be made welcome and allowed to be yourself in your own space and to be drawn in to be fed and shared with in this rambling timbered wonder of a place

On the way here I saw roaming marshlands, huge wading birds, faces in the rocks, llamas, Elk (I think, but something big moving on the mountainside – perhaps a bear), a roman villa, the grave mound of Half-Dan the Black and so much more.

I recovered in time, once here, to partake of a Viking banquet created by globaly renowned chefs and was honoured to be asked to perform for the press and the Vikings (although the picture of me in the papers was rather grossly dramatic).

I have eaten my favourite food; dark brown cheese with pear and honey.

Today I was taken through the mountain to the next world, where trains and ferries traverse, I wandered through an organic garden where seeds I sent are flourishing, I bought beans to sprout because you cannot get beansprouts anywhere here, I learned to tell the time, and to call others to dinner, and I climbed an ancient burial ground: I have walked sunwise around a stone-which-is-stood as others have done before for countless times.

I am in a world which is countless.

Be here.

I Will Be Standing – (in Norway)

red ships

I Will Be Standing – (in Norway)

I will be standing at the AllT’ing

Amid the timeless circle of chieftains

Echoing ever backwards and onwards

I will be standing, to proclaim my chieftain; my king

My king among men

Among my Njardar Clan

I will be standing at the Borre gathering

I will be standing, amid the circle of stones

Within the stones

Within the tribes of old

I will be standing for the myriad of visitors of Gudvangen

I will be busking

I will be raising the hearts and the spirits of many within the walls

As long high falls fall

I will be standing

I will be bringing donations; so eagerly given

To create our future

A vision

The Viking long past on our land

I will be standing; where a stave church will stand

And seeing it becoming because of us

I will be standing; at a gathering

A thousand yearlong gathering

In Sarpsborg

Among men I met in old Jorvik

Who invited me

To tell stories

With my Chieftain

I will be standing

For Njardar

In the land of God’s Water

To be international

At our market

Where fighters,

And crafters,

And wrestlers

And choirs

Will join with my telling

Of weddings

Of AllT’ing

Of merry making

And I hear today

I will be staring

At an old stone


The brave ones

Of the ancient times

In their red boats of bravery

I will be standing in Norway

At the old stones

Of memory


red ships

Adrian Spendlow

The old road of history leads us to what are believed to have been thirteen circles of thirteen stones. The graves of the women, the seats of the meeting, the place of the forever. Hunn near Skjærsilden, near Oslo. Here we stand at the Stortinget Plasser to rediscover what is truly in the heart and the bones. For we stand there and we know.