Norse Code

Yesterday's question and answer on Jenny's blog was interesting, and seems to indicate that all nine clues of Forrest Fenn's poem can be answered from home. You can find the question by
"Lagerta the Bold" here.

The name "Lagerta" is familiar to me, as it's a variation of a familial name that I've studied years before The History Channel's Vikings picked it up as one of it's shows main characters.

The date of my first ancestry article about Ragnar and wives was written in an old blog of mine on Thursday, May 10, 2012.  I wonder if the writers of Vikings stole my idea. I had an interest in Lathgertha and Ragnar (and the rest on Fennland Isle) before the masses even knew who they were. Before the series came out, there was very little information about them online, and my blog was one of the few compilations of an American's Norse bloodline.

I researched my ancestry all the way back to the possibly mythical or legendary figures. There's a point in everyone's genealogy where things get a little fantastic, and Ragnar is the last "probably historical" person in my line. Pre-Ragnar, things get a little sketchy. 

In my original blog post from 2012, I wrote the following:

Yesterday, I did some more research. The furthest I can definitively trace back to is probably Ragnar, the scoundrel asshole. After that, the people become semi-legendary, meaning they haven't been proven to be real people. Ragnar's father was supposedly Sigurd "The Ring", who is a semi-legendary King of Sweden. A little further down the line is another semi-legendary king, Skjold, who was mentioned in Beowulf. There is some historical proof he may have been real, too. 

Then, we have Skjold's dad, Woden, or Odin. Yes, the god.  However, there apparently was such a Woden, and there is actually more proof for his existence than there is of Sigurd or Skjold. Woden was an excellent poet; in fact, the master of all poets, and highly esteemed and the Chief of his tribe or clan, or whatever. He was revered as a god. Anglo-Saxon kings say they can trace their lines back to this man. Darn, if I had known that, I could have proven my lineage and got an invitation to Princess Diana's wedding!

But, from Odin, the genealogy goes to Troy and can be traced all the way up to the supposed founder of Troy, Dardanus. From Dardanus, Priam comes into the picture. He's supposedly in my line. Priam had a daughter, Troana, who married Munon (or Memnon). And guess what? Munon and Troana had a son, and guess what his name was? Yes, you're right! His name was Thor! Or Tror, which is translated Thor. 

Anyway, back to Lagerta. Why the missing h or two? Maybe the author of the quote didn't want the name to sound "biddy-ish," like Helga or Bertha. Lol. Or maybe it was just another case of Forrest's shortening of names to save time.

Okay, back to Vikings. Contrary to popular belief, the ancient Scandinavians were not all vikings. The term "viking" described those who went a'viking, their term for boat voyages and raiding missions. The Vikings were expert sailors, navigating the world and setting foot on America long before Christopher Columbus or pals ever did. 

But Lagertha was actually a Viking. She journeyed with Ragnar on many raiding trips and there are tales of her carving her name in the sea pre-Ragnar, as a pirate. There are also tales that she was a shield-maiden or Valkyrie. Viking shield-maidens are most likely based on historical truth, as they are simply warriors that happen to be female. There have been graves of woman Viking warriors buried with their weapons unearthed, and there are several tales of women fighting alongside of the men.

Here's an ancient account of Latgerta (as Ladgerda, one of the many variations of her name):

 Ladgerda, a skilled Amazon who, though a maiden, had the courage of a man, and fought in front among the bravest with her hair loose over her shoulders. All-marvelled at her matchless deeds, for her locks flying down her back betrayed that she was a woman.

This painting by Peter Nicolai shows a fallen shield maiden:

And, of course, the modern equivalent:

 Valkyries are probably just myth, though, and were likened to goddesses of war. They would ride their flying horses into a battle and choose those among the slain who died with bravery and honor, then take them to an eternal feast with Odin in Valhalla. In Valhalla, these warriors are known as einherjar, which is an Old Norse word that means "single fighters" or "once a fighter."

The Ride of the Valkyries, by John Charles Dollman

Forrest has mentioned Thor once or twice, but Thor is, at the time of this blog post, a mythological figure. As time moves forward and more is discovered in the ruins of Troy, where the historical Thor might have lived, a different story may emerge. One interesting fact about Thor is that prior to the Viking Age, the name "Thor" was unheard of. During the Viking Age and beyond, the name flourished. Thor was the new "Hunter" or "Dylan."

Another interesting fact is that before Thursday was Thursday, it was dies lovis, meaning "Day of Jupiter."

Thor was the god of thunder, lightning, oak trees, strength, storms, the protection of mankind, and also hallowing and fertility.

Unlike Lagertha, stories abound of Thor's adventures. He was known by at least fourteen names, and I don't know them all yet. Thor was purported to be a son of Odin, and he rides, somewhat humbly, I think, in a chariot pulled by goats. This isn't how I like to picture the god of thunder and might scooting around town--I mean, how could his enemies not laugh at his approach?

Unless it was more like this:

Oops, dang it, that's not Thor, that's Santa Claus. I meant this:

Yeah, that's more like it! Lol.

In the Poetic Edda, a compilation of traditional tales from the Viking Period, Thor is a popular character. In one such poem, Thor is returning from "the East" and arrives at an inlet, where he finds a ferryman (Odin in disguise). Oh, Odin is a tricky guy, playing little jokes on the heroes with tests and tribulations! He shouts obscenities at Thor and refuses to let him on the ferry.

Thor, trying his best to not let mere obnoxious words hurt him, stays silent and waits for the ferryman to finish. The ferryman just gets louder and more aggressively crude, and Thor "goes atomic." But not with his fists. Instead, he enters into a war of words, what they called "flyting." Which is basically an exchange of insults in poetry. Maybe like today's rap battles. Lol.

Here's a depiction of the flyt:

Well, Thor apparently lost the flyt, and ended up walking that long walk home. Maybe Odin won because he said something like, "You may have killed a dragon, but your chariot is pulled by goats!"

I mean, how can you come back from that one? Oh Thor, why'd you have to pick goats? There are some pretty awesome wolves in the old tales, like Fenrir of the marshes, who swallowed the sun, or Managarmr, the wolf who swallowed the moon--couldn't your mightiness have harnessed them instead of a couple cud-chewing, grazing mammals?

And time grows short once again as the morning wanes. Time to put my scrubs on and get ready to be ordinary.

Have a great day!

The End of the World

My dream in the wee hours of the morning:

I was with my boss/friend, Karen, and a couple other people. It was work-related, because a couple of the surgery people from the hospital were with us.

We were in this tiny little rental car, driving around and looking for a place to eat. The only place was Pizza Hut, and in my mind in this dream, I could imagine nothing worse, but it was the only place and we were hungry. I think all I got was a Coke and for some reason, a steak fry, which I don't like at all in real life (not to mention in real life you can't get steak fries from Pizza Hut--I don't think, anyway).

Then, near there, was this little place that was advertised as a "hockey/shooting range," but it was tiny.

Remember those figure 8 markings in skating rinks? Since I was part of a skating team in junior high, I'm really familiar with those figure eights, as part of practice was toeing those lines over and over and over.

Oh, and my youthful skating, living in Florida, was roller skating. I'm very, very good at it, to this day. I think James and I will have to go soon. It was only a few years ago that I was seriously entertaining the thought of joining our local roller derby team that one of my friends was on. That was before the knee and the thyroid. Lol.

Here's our local roller derby team, the Sintral Florida Derby Demons. Lol. I was very close to joining, although I probably wouldn't have lasted long. I would've been stopping to make sure I didn't hurt someone everytime I shoved them out of my way. Lol.

Anyway, the size of this "hockey/shooting range" was just a little bigger (maybe like 11 1/2 sqaure feet for the whole place. Maybe 13 1/2 sqft at most. Which corresponds to a sheet of paper in inches in times past. I 'd learned that from my reading yesterday morning.  Funny how those things show up in dreams.

The the figure eight of ice took up most of the place, then right next to it, people were shooting specially made, very quiet guns at almost point blank targets. Admission was cheap--only a quarter to fifty cents, depending on what you wanted to do.

And there were famous people there, and the guy who ran it all might have been John Cena, although in real life I barely know what the guy looks like, much less what he does. I think he was a wrestler turned actor or something. He will probably be a governor and President of the United States when he gets older.

So, I just Googled "John Cena for President," and lo, and behold, someone's already made a meme:

And as a side note, I see his slogan is "Ride Above Hate." Wow, that's actually sort of cool.

Anyway, we paid the admission, and this next part of the dream I have to laugh at. In the dream, on the ice, I was just as graceful and adept as I was on a roller rink floor. I have to laugh, because I am absolutely the worst ice skater in the whole world. I tried it once, and scooting around on my frozen butt the whole time was not my idea of fun. The mechanics of roller skating and ice skating are apparently very different, and I'd like to strangle whoever told me that they were similar.

Anyway, I was zig-zagging and twirling around my friends and coworkers as we waited for our turn to shoot. There were a couple guys lined up to shoot the silent guns, and it looked like they were having fun, but I couldn't imagine it to be much fun, as it certainly didn't look very challenging with the targets so close.

If I'm not good at doing something others find difficult, why bother? Unless it's fun, but part of the fun is accomplishing something difficult--if I had been a natural at ice skating, I probably would've had fun and done it a second time.

For example, I'm a terrible painter, but it's fun, so I don't care that I'm terrible. I'm not a particularly good musician, but I'm mostly self taught, and if I practiced more, I would probably be good, but it's also fun, and relaxing for me.

Here's my kokopelli before it was finished...I still like this one... by the way, whoever bought my kokopelli, could you send me a pic of it, finished? Lol...

I'm not the best writer, either, but I know I'm good at it when I try, and better than many when I'm not trying, like on my blogs. And it's fun. If you're doing something repeatedly that's not enjoyable to you, why? I can't imagine why people go into careers they don't find interesting or fun. I guess they do it for money to spend on things that are fun, but man, if you work all the time at something just to have fun in the very minute amount of time you have leftover after working all week, what's the point? I'm glad and fortunate to love my job, and I'm actually really sad to be leaving it. I hope I can work part time in Naples at an orthopedic clinic. At least my resume is very, very good, and my references are practically stellar.

Oh yeah, the dream. It starts to get bad now. There's this rumbling, and all of a sudden, this wave of soot gray lava sweeps us up high, and we're riding this colossal wave of destruction. It should've burned us to ash, but I guess because it was gray, it meant it was cool enough to sit atop and ride. (I know, that's impossible. It's a dream, not real life.) Lol.

So we're a little worried as we ride by highway overpasses that are half destroyed. And even more worried as we see another, higher wave coming behind us heading our way fast, and another, higher wave in front of us heading our way, fast. It looked like we would be immolated or suffocated very soon.

The walls of each barreling wave were about six feet higher than we were, so the trick would be to scale the walls just before the two waves sandwiched us. We somehow managed to accomplish this, and were rewarded for our effort when we saw grass up ahead, and the ocean beyond that. The lava was running parallel to the grass, and we saw the path that led to the little hockey/figure 8 place. It would be a short swim to shore when we hit the ocean.

Which is what we did. Once we reached the grassy area, we were miraculously dry, and it was an easy walk back to the little shack, which also miraculously survived. And then I woke up.

I have no idea where these dreams come from. Parts of them seem like things thought about or read about during my day, but then my imagination barges in and screams, "TOO BORING!"

So, he (Imagination) makes them colorful and well, not boring.

Oh well, it makes for an interesting morning as I remember some of these night-time adventures.

In other news, I have an idea for a children's book. I plan on doing it in rhyme, and it's unfolding easily in my head. I think it'll be really, really good. Now I just need to make the time to write it down.

In other, other news, I've got to use this weekend wisely and bust my butt to get stuff ready to sell or listed for sale. I've literally got to sell almost everything I own. Lol. That's sorta daunting, but it's definitely time to let go of a bunch of junk. More is not better!

Planting a tree...

Dal put up a new post about planting a tree in honor of Forrest. I think that's a good idea, but not just because it honors a man, but honors the earth, our home. Making more oxygen is a good thing!  And like the practice of giving salt to a stranger, planting a community of trees is a sincere gesture of friendship. I think the chase has inspired many friendships, and Forrest's list of friends has grown exponentially over the last several years.

I'm going to have to think about the tree I plant, though, and where I'm going to plant it. I'm moving soon, so I won't plant it at the home I'm in now. I may plant it at the one place I'm most fond of calling my home thus far -- a place in Merritt Island, FL. I'll see if I can make that happen.

One thing that's occupying my spare time is studying the words in the poem as they're written--meaning the part of speech they're used as in the poem. Very interesting to see how many have gone wrong! For example, and I know many of you already know this, but "down" in both instances of the poem, is a noun. So, not a direction or depth at all.

I've parsed the poem in the early days of my chase, but I've lost all the notes in the thousands of notes I've taken, so I had to start over, and I think this time, I got different results from applying the knowledge I've gained since then. And as I study the word meanings in depth, I'm seeing the "recipe" or "instructions" (use whatever word you want), in a new light. It'll be interesting, and maybe surprising, to see where this sidewalk ends. :)

Treasure Dream

I slept late this morning...guess I was tired last night!

I had yet another dream I found the treasure.

In the dream, James and I had been to Disney World (I think it was Disney, anyway), and there was this facade town we were walking through, and there was a stove pipe looking thing sticking up about four feet out of the ground. It was about six feet in diameter, so pretty big, and you could bend over and look in under the stove pipe cover.

It looked just lie this, but was on a giant scale, and set in concrete in the middle of a theme park.

We did, and didn't see anything we thought was special.

Soon after that, FF announced that someone had been looking right at it.  I thought back and remembered something vaguely square-shaped in that stove pipe. Then I searched online for web cams in the Disney area, and lo and behold, there was one overlooking the stove pipe.

But, Disney? Lol. I wasn't going to risk it, though, and sped back to the park.

I was driving an SUV with a physical key, which I promptly lost, and I was frantically searching for it only to find it was in my pocket all the time.

Then I got to the pipe, and... looked in just as some kid lifted the chest from the spot. I held my breath, and the kid's dad said, "It's a prop. Put it back." So, the kid did.

I reached in and said, "I'll take it, then." They watched as I picked it up, and speed walked out of there. The thing was more gold-yellow than bronze, and was like a cookie tin, with a lid you peeled off.  I did, and everything was there. I put it in a duffel bag, then reached for my phone in my pocket to snap a pic to send Forrest.

But I couldn't find my phone. I thought I must've left it at the pipe thing, so I started to walk back and over the loudspeaker someone said, "Mindy, if you have lost your cell phone, please report to Lost and Found. And by the way, you are not allowed to take pictures inside the attractions."

I couldn't remember breaking any rules or taking any pictures, but I headed over to Lost and Found and the very big guy was plopped down on a metal folding chair at a garage sale table swiping through all my pictures on my phone. The guy, not the table. Indignant, I snatched it from him and said, "Stop it. That's mine."

So he started to lecture me on taking pictures inside different attractions. "You're not allowed to take a picture of any surprise endings," he said with a nasally air of authority that grated on my nerves.

I replied, "If you find someone's phone, you're not supposed to jailbreak it to look at someone's personal pictures. You should've let the owner come to the Lost and Found to claim it."

He didn't say anything, so I rushed back to the truck I'd left unlocked with the chest inside. Once I was there, I opened the duffel bag, and the chest and contents was still there. I snapped a quick pic, and sent an email to Forrest, then woke up.

I know why I dreamed this. I have also narrowed my search area down to a very small area, and was starting to search the Internet last night for web cams in the area to see if there were any nearby. I didn't get too far into a search before something else in the search results caught my eye that was interesting, so I browsed someone's collection for a while, and recognized a pottery olla that had once been Forrest's.

So, I'll continue that search later today. I'm closing in, I think.

That podcast was immensely helpful in turning me back. Once he said, "Jiminy Christmas," I started listening. Lol.

Okay, I just did a search in Google Images for "Jiminy Christmas,"  and tucked amidst the photos of Jiminy Cricket and Christmas Trees, I found this inexplicable pic:

 

I guess if I saw someone wandering the street in those, I might be prompted to say, "Jiminy Christmas!" Lol.

Now, it's time to get moving. Have a great day!

Unicorn Rescue

After my bout of sorrow first thing on Mother's Day, I pulled myself together and relaxed with James for a while before we decided to go to Barnes and Noble. I found a nice literature section in a little nook and sat down with Where the Sidewalk Ends, by Shel Silverstein.

But I could hear other books calling my name, and soon I had a stack piled up. And so did Joe. James's stack was much smaller, but my books are his books, and he knows that. :)  Still, I didn't have a large budget, so I started the dreadful task of separating the "really wants," from the "this can wait."

I got a lot of them from the bargain area, so the total was maybe 12 or 14 books altogether for about $100. I'm reading them bit by bit. :)

Then we went home, and I was going to make spaghetti, but Joe wanted pizza, so that's what we got. And I opened my Mother's Day gifts.

Joe got me a medicine bag from Disney, because I like Indians:

... and this very cool Rey Star Wars Bobblehead that'll look nice with my Han Solo Bobblehead. Guess what? This pic has not been photoshopped one iota. LOL.

James got me an adorable unicorn to rescue.

I'm still thinking of an absolutely fierce Viking name for her. Yes, her. Here are the two heroines striking a fierce pose:

Then James, Joe, and I played a board game James had picked out at Barnes and Noble. It was fun, but I didn't quite get it.  I had to admit I was a little distracted, and James had to physically take my laptop away from me to prevent my habitual multitasking. Lol.

So, I had a very, very nice Mother's Day...I couldn't have wished for anything better, except for Callie and Aidan to be home, but both of them called me and we talked on the phone for a while.

I'm going to try and visit Callie at Brown when she takes a class there in July.  She sent me some new pics. Here she is fancily celebrating an orange juice yesterday morning with one of her friends.

And this one she captioned: "I dress like you now." Meaning baggy college shirts and jeans or shorts. Lol. I definitely like that better than her belly button exposing phase.

Man, I miss that munchkin who is no longer a munchkin. I should have never considered moving to CA. That's the only reason she's there...well, and for school opportunities. And it seems like Santa Barbara is being good to her. She's excelling at writing, and has a teacher/mentor that is guiding her and opening up great opportunities to develop her natural talent, like the Summer @Brown University. I'm happy for her, and so proud!

Joe is also doing great--straight A's for the whole year in the IB program. Very awesome. Aidan is also shining. She's still working her way up in the restaurant business, and she loves what she does. She works over 50 hours a week and loves every minute. I'm so extremely proud of her, too.

I don't know why God blessed me with such great kids, but I'm glad and thankful He did.

Anyway, I'm both excited and a little anxious to start a new chapter of my life in Naples. My coworkers are sad to see me go.  When I told Patty my last day would be June 2nd, she was sad...

I'm spending some time each day typing up cheat sheets that attempt to explain my job step by step. There is SO much to type. Lol.

It'll be exciting to get our side business off the ground. I'll finally be able to devote time to that and other projects I've wanted to start (or finish).

Anyway, have a great Tuesday! It's almost June!

Minus One

I had a plan prepared for this morning--Mother's Day Morning. And I remembered to do what I planned, because it was important to me.

When I opened my eyes after feeling James start to stir beside me, I rolled away from him and grabbed my phone. I clicked into iTunes, which has a song that has become very meaningful to me since last September.

Up until this morning, I hadn't played this song even once since I sang the chorus to my mom on her deathbed.

With a deep, calming breath, I pressed "play."

"Here's to you, Mrs. Montgomery,
 Jesus loves you more than you will know..."

I wanted to sing it softly, replacing Robinson with my mom's surname that night or two before she passed away. She really liked me singing that song to her. But I couldn't sing, because I was crying.

I miss her so much. I still can't listen to the voicemails saved on my phone. It still hurts too much.  I can still picture how innocent and childlike she appeared curled on her side, finally without pain and without struggling to breathe. She was wearing a soft pink nightgown, and her hair curled against the side of her face, making her look like a young woman from the Swinging '20's or 30's.

I cling to the positive responses she gave me as I asked if she was okay, and if she was at peace, and if she was ready to reunite with dad, and grammy, and grampa. She told me yes. I got to say goodbye to her, and that may be the greatest blessing God has ever bestowed on me, besides my children.

And I take great comfort in the fact that my mom knows just how much Jesus loves her now that she's in His comforting presence.

 

Mom, I miss you so much. You know how much I avoided hugs as a weird child you didn't quite understand, but right now, I just want to hug you forever.

At Work

I'm working on a new Hot Spot, so check it later on today! :)

Happy Friday!

Oh yeah, Viggo? Forrest does! He told someone not to "arm chair" something to death! Ha!