Week at a glance

Last time I checked in, I was leaving ze monsters in Skaun for Bjørnebruket, a small farm in Rykkje (about an hour from Bergen). Rykkje sits on the breathtaking Hardangerfjord, where mountains plunge into the sea and yellow autumn leaves colour the hills.

Thus far, I've cut, hung, and smoked 106 lamb ribs and legs (technically twice as many legs), hiked every accessible trail in the area, herded sheep, saved two lambs lost in the mountains and everything else in between (including drawing with Gabriella, 13, and sword fighting with Timre, 9). 

Quick note about shepherds: THEY ARE BADASS (that means you, Tarjei!). 

It's been cultural: Here, in the oh-so-traditional Norwegian home, we drink Greek wine and Mexican beer (we being me and the other crazy visitor, Italian punk/anarchist/musician/chef Nik) with the educated, apple-picking Polish couple and our once-quiet hosts, Cecilie and Tarjei, who have now caught our contagious craziness and play air guitar with each other's legs as they talk of Mr. Sheep contests and people who can fly and not eat (Cecilie, your inner hippie cannot hide forever). 

And a troll killed a sheep.