I am Rigmor Rundhaug Herlofsen, the latest addition to the U3A writers group. The one Tony calls the novice.  And I am.  Always had a writer hidden inside.  Thanks to my fellow writers I now have courage to come out, more or less successfully.  I am from Kopervik, Norway.  Have lived on the Costa del Sol since 2000, with a break from 2006 till last August.  Yes, I speak Spanish, also more or less successfully, English, German and a little bit of French.  Music is important in my life, different kinds, but classical has become more and more a favourite over the years.  English not being my mother´s tongue makes my writing possibly simpler than my English speaking cowriters, but I enjoy it anyway, and they are polite and give me good feedback.  I am happy to be a member of this genial group and can only encourage other writers to join.

---

My island.

It is just a tiny, little island I would guess not more than 1500 m2. Surrounded by sand,seaweed and blue mussels, loads of them.  The water is mostly comfortable since it is brackish  from the waterfall on the mainland. It is filled with all sorts of trees, oaks, birks, pines and spruces, also ashes and aspens.  In  summer it is blue from the blueberries, there are some wild raspberries and blackberries.  The strawberries I bought myself, but they didn´t like the soil, so I gave them up after a while.

We have  a small cottage  on the island.  There is a big kitchen with a wood oven for the cold days.  There is a corner couch and a big oak table for long mealconversations, everything overlooking the sea, which is so close that you can spit on it. The livingroom is small, but with the same view, and the bedroom is big, well hidden among the trees and with no view at all.  There is a wooden path from the bedroom to the bath and the guesthouse.  The guesthouse consists of 2 small bedrooms, sleeping 4 in each, and the already mentioned bath with its shower and a biotoilet.  There is a  nice terrace with an open fireplace.  There also is a small woodshed.  All 3 buildings have grassroofs.

You can´t reach the island other than by boat, unless you are a good swimmer. It is only a good 200 meters from the shore.  The fine thing about it is that you always know when guests will arrive.

This late summer Saturday I knew exactly who were coming.  I had been looking forward to it for a while.  A weekend with the girls, for me it was music to my ears.  A few hours without my normal burdens, just some nice hours of girltalk, laughter, gossip, complaints about our husbands, full of motherpraise about the children, discussions also about politics, food, fashion, jewelry (my friend Astrid is an expert). Jesus, how I love these hours.

I picked them up at the communal quay, Astrid, my very intelligent friend,and proud of it, is the glamorous one, Elna, my sister in law, widow of my darling late brother, who  passed away a few years before, much too early, but cancer doesn´t ask about your age, and Gudrun, my best friend and maid of honour  .  She has the most adorable face, like a cherube,  always positive, living in a world of dreams and hopes.  Why does she deserve such a handsome husband?  Everybody thinks he looks like George Clooney, and he does.

They were already waiting, waving, hollerring hellooooeeees.  We hugged and kissed on each cheek, in Norway we normally don´t, but I had introduced this rule to them after my years in Spain. I had not promised anything but a good time.

The weather in Norway, especially on the West coast where I am from, is unpredictable.  But this August Saturday the gods were with us.  The fjord was calm, the sun was getting lower, but still warm, there was no wind, extraordinary, some birds flying high, a good sign, the waterfall  was poor after a dry summer. 

Everybody into my small boat with its moody outboard motor.

”How was the drive?”

Silly question.  It is only a 50 minute drive, no need for extra food or gasoline.

”Exciting!  I saw this beautiful cat.  It was proboably a Persian,  champagnecoloured with such an innocent face.  Wonder why it was running along the roadside.”  This was typical Gudrun, so afraid of the dark that she bought a cat to share her bed with when her husband was away at work in the North Sea, drilling for oil.

”Oh, you and your cats.  Dogs and cats are animals and should be treated like animals.”  Astrid, dog- and cat hater, grew up on a farm and used to cats catching rats and dogs watching sheep.

Alfons, Elna´s bastard, a mixture of probably a golden retriever and a dachs, listened to this without any expression to his long face. He was sitting very behavedly on her lap.

So, here we land and jump ashore, Me first, taking with me the hawser and binding it professionnally to the pole on the quay.  Then Alfons, happily already waving his tail in true joy of being able to run and sniff around the island with no leash. Elna, slim and very fit for her 52 years, jumped easily and hit the ground without any sound. Gudrun, however, struggled and needed a hand, not yet 50, sooo heavybreathing, but laughing and waving with both her arms when she landed.

”Oh, Gosh, I really must lose some weight before I die from high bloodpressure.”  Again laughing and panting. At last Astrid.  She never learns, highhealed shoes and tight skirt, gold and diamonds hanging from her neck and arms, how  did she think she could get ashore like that?  But I had to concede, she looked fantastic.”Undress, lady,” I commanded. She obeyed without a murmur and landed barefoot in laced knickers, La Perla, nothing less. This is a cottage, not a 5 star hotel, but she doesn´t seem to notice.

I am  the youngest in our little group, but the difference in years doesn´t mean anything anymore. I am tall, have some fat too much around my waist, my legs are slim, that way I look slimmer than I am.  I don´t really think so much about it anymore,  since everybody tells me that beauty comes from inside. My inside is full of nicotine, and I am sure my liver would benefit from less wine, but I enjoy life whenever I have a chance.

This was one of them.

Normal procedure is champagne and warm waffles on the quay, funny combination, but since my waffles are famous,, my mother´s recipe, much sour cream and some vanillasugar, and champagne  always bubbles up your spirits, I don´t give a damn about it being funny.  The iron was already hot, I poured in the first portion, and I poured the champagne.

”Happy days, everyone, and welcome to my paradise!”

”Cheeeers, cheers”, the laughter already lose. 

I ran to and from the kitchen to look after the waffles.  The girls were sitting on the quay, which is facing other small islets in this bay in one of the fjords in my area.  Small racerboats speeding and making a terrible noise, some youngsters waterskiing, smaller children in rowing boats shouting and having fun, that´s July, luckily not in late August, so it was peaceful, only a swanfamily swimming soundless around. 

”This is just heaven!”  Astrid sighed,  the others agreed.

Alfons started to make some funny woofs.  Of course, the ducks had come.  There are always ducks in the springtime, but they disappear when they are out of the eggs and able to move. Such an adorable sight when the duckmother swims with her ducklings in a nice pattern behind her.  But those were tame ducks from the farm on the other side.  They usually come ashore on my island, what they  find here, I don´t really know.  Alfons didn´t understand it either, and he started to chase them.

”OH, nice, duck steak for dinner tonight”.  Elna was giggling from the champagne already.

”Well, never fear, he won´t reach them in the air”, me, the knowall, and went into the kitchen to put another ladle of wafflemix into the iron.

Then I heard the ducks quak, quak, quak and  a lot of splashing.  The dog was really chasing them into the water.  There was no way he could follow them, but he was a stubborn bastard and lay out swimming as fast as he could.  The birds were already far up in the air, and the little creature  didn´t have the sense to turn around.

Iris jumped out into the sea and started her poor try to rescue him, but then realised that her very, very VERY expensive watch was still on her arm, she raised it, straight, high up, turned around and swam back with one arm only.

Shit!! I jumped into the boat, pulled the cord, it started at the first pull, cried out, ”Watch the waffles” and steered after the dog.

The poor, little man was almost under, gasping for air.  I managed to bend over the  rail and grabbed him, lifted him into my arms, dripping wet, both of us, I even more so as he started to shake his body.

There were tears and joy on the quay when we returned. Elna in her pyjamas, since her clothes had been hung to dry in the sun. Nobody had watched the waffles, so they were burnt.  Who cares?  I had saved a life, the champagne was stil cool, the sun was shining, and the smell was of summer.  Here is the good life!

I can tell you that the evening was long and wet, the morning late and lazy, and next time my friends come for a heart-to-heart weekend, there will be a sign on the quay advising:

”Watch out for dogs and ducks!”