Dream: Richard Armitage Norwegian Wedding

RAnorwegianwedding

I have weddings on the brain. As you may recall, Little Sister and I recently attended my cousin’s wedding in Colorado, and the Young Love and I are scheduled to attend my aunt’s wedding to her longtime girlfriend in Colorado next month. Apparently, all these weddings have spilled over into my subconscious, and I’m happy to say that Richard Armitage finally revisited my dreamscape.

For a little background, I should tell you just a bit about the wedding I recently attended. It turns out that my cousin’s new father-in-law, who we’ll call “Dennis”, is one of those people you might say is a Serious Control Freak. According to my cousin, there were times during the wedding planning when his fiancé was reduced to tears because Dennis the Menace was continually taking charge and refusing to listen to her wishes regarding the wedding service, the decorations, the reception, or any of it. So forceful was Dennis’ personality, in fact, that the couple actually planned their honeymoon in secret, not telling any family member where they were going, because having caved to Dennis on numerous other issues, they didn’t want any interference from him on their honeymoon!

So “our” side of the family, being rather more laid back, derived a great deal of snarky amusement watching Dennis direct activities like a military general at the wedding reception. I do have to hand it to Dennis… everything went off very smoothly, if in a slightly regimented fashion! And although I was too intimidated by Dennis to approach him, I did later wish I’d gone over to the brides’ family table to talk to them about their Norwegian roots. Some of her family came all the way from Norway for the wedding, and I was charmed by their willingness to come so far.

* * *

I am in a state of agitation, completely flustered, because I have missed Richard Armitage’s wedding ceremony. (I can’t explain how I came to be invited, nor do I know the identity of his new spouse. It seems that this fortuitous individual’s name has been kept undisclosed, but I expected to learn the secret at the wedding!) I have my four-year old daughter in tow, and she’s dressed to the nines in her rainbow dress. I am also wearing a dress, and part of my agitation is due to the fact that I did not have time to shower before the ceremony, or to fix my hair or apply new makeup. In fact, I’m feeling really hot and sweaty, in part due to my anxiety over having missed the ceremony, and in part because I have been wielding my lefse stick over several hot griddles in the kitchen all afternoon, feverishly preparing a tall stack of lefse with my family.

Lefse Project

This is a really small lefse crew. You can see we start them young in my family. Young Love was two, and Little Sister was 1 week old when Dad and Brother came to visit. We couldn’t let an opportunity to celebrate the new baby’s arrival pass without making lefse!

Let’s take a moment here, because not everyone may be familiar with lefse. And that is a shame. Lefse, in my humble opinion, is just about the most delicious stuff in the world. It’s an ultra-thin (think crepe) potato- based Norwegian flatbread that is heavenly when eaten warm off the griddle, dripping with butter. Now, some people enjoy lefse with cinnamon-sugar sprinkled on, but in my family, we prefer straight-up hot buttered lefse, and we will use any excuse for a family gathering to get a crew together and make an enormous batch. This labor of love involves about 10-lb of potatoes boiled, peeled and riced, which are then mixed into a dough with heavy cream, flour and lard the day before the lefse party. The lefse assembly process involves specialized equipment, a great quantity of flour, the consumption of alcoholic beverages, and plenty of lefse smack-talk. Ideally we need one person to form dough balls, a couple more to roll out the dough, one or two to man the griddles, and someone to stack and steam and carefully count the lefse.

Although I’ve missed the exchange of vows, I am still in time to make it to Richard Armitage’s wedding reception. While I may not have fresh hair and makeup, I do come prepared in one respect. I have an insulated bag full of lovingly prepared lefse, which I was instructed by Dennis to provide for the wedding reception. (In fact, knowing my family and the way we obsessive-compulsively count and divvy up the lefse, all participants watching like hawks to ensure a fair portion of lefse is allotted for personal consumption, I was probably late due to negotiating the number of lefse that would be relinquished for Richard Armitage versus the number of lefse that the family would keep!) Although Richard’s new spouse is shrouded in mystery, Dennis has indicated that there will be a large Norwegian contingent in attendance, and I am speculating that Richard may have married some long-legged Scandinavian supermodel. 

With my precious lefse bag in one hand and my daughter’s hand in the other, I enter the ballroom. I notice that many of the guests are already seated, and many of them are wearing beautiful Norwegian sweaters. I look up toward the dais where the wedding party is seated above the rest, and I immediately spot Richard Armitage in the center. (Apparently I’m flustered enough that I forget to see who the best man is or to really look at any of the wedding party other than Richard.) I see that the chair adjacent to Richard is empty. Glancing around, I spot Dennis, who is checking his watch rather impatiently. Where is the Scandinavian supermodel, or whoever it is Richard has married?

lefse1

The recipe is simple, if time-consuming, and passed down over countless generations. There is no describing the mouth-watering aroma or the perfection of each buttery, potatoey bite. =)

I quickly make my way over to the buffet table and talk for a moment with the caterers about a covered dish to keep the lefse moist and warm, and ask for butter to be placed nearby. Then I take my seat. I study Richard, who is looking gorgeous in a black tuxedo, but has furrowed brows. I presume he’s wondering where his spouse might be. (Though maybe he’s uncomfortable because he knows that Nobody screws with Dennis’ time table at wedding receptions!) As we wait for something to happen, Little Sister starts asking when they will be cutting the cake, and when the dancing will begin. (So many boys, so little time!)

Pretty soon Dennis approaches the dais and speaks to Richard, who shakes his head and indicates he doesn’t know. Dennis begins to gesticulate and point to his watch, and Richard, harried, scans the room hopefully. Still no spouse. Dennis and Richard then exit the room, only to return a few minutes later. Richard takes his seat, and Dennis speaks to the wait staff, who begin to circulate, taking drink orders. More time elapses, and at some point, Little Sister escapes and begins asking boys to dance. Boy after boy shakes his head no. (The other parents evidently have better control over their offspring!)

Little Sister, who is a veteran of a Dennis-controlled wedding reception, then gets a bright idea. She approaches the man himself. (Not Richard. Dennis Runs The Program at these events!) She tugs on Dennis’ pants, and when he bends down to hear her better, I can only assume she either asks Dennis to dance (this did happen at my cousin’s wedding, BTW. To Dennis’ credit, he complied!) or she asks Dennis to get this party started, but in either case, Dennis sets his shoulders, takes her by the hand, and Dennis and Little Sister march back to the dais. After a few stern words with Richard, who finally shrugs and accepts the inevitable, Dennis turns to the attendees and announces that it’s time to eat and dance. Nobody addresses the elephant in the room: Richard’s significant other still has not appeared!

mittens

Norwegian Lover’s Mittens

After everyone has filled their plates and taken their seats, Dennis announces that some of the attendees have travelled all the way from Norway, and one of the Norwegians has asked to make a short speech in honor of Richard and his absent spouse. Everyone applauds, and an older gentleman dressed in a Norwegian sweater stands up and goes to stand behind Richard and the empty seat. After a few remarks about his travels in the United States that don’t seem to apply at all to the matter at hand, the elderly Norwegian gentleman says his wife has knitted a trio of Norwegian Lover’s Mittens in honor of the couple. He holds up 3 mittens: a right-hand mitten, a left-hand mitten, and a conjoined mitten for the hand-holding couple to wear together. Dennis, realizing that the special moment is somewhat diminished by the lack of a marital partner to demonstrate the mittens, lifts Little Sister up to the dais, and the elderly Norwegian gentleman helps her to stand on the empty chair. Richard good-naturedly dons his left-handed mitten, Little Sister dons the right-handed mitten, and my heart melts as they work out how to put on the shared mitten, then hold up their joined hands for all to see. (Where does my brain come up with these themes?!)

Reception Dance

Now how lucky is he? *snickers*

Never one to miss a golden opportunity, Little Sister then asks the hottest guy in the room to dance. Richard Armitage is either unable to resist her, or unwilling to disappoint her, (or intimidated into capitulation by Dennis!) because he stands up and, still wearing the mittens, carries Little Sister onto the dance floor. He sets her down, and having to stoop to keep hold of her hands, they begin to dance. 

stagedoorPretty soon, ladies begin to form a line along one wall near the dance floor, each waiting her turn to dance with Richard. Several kids and a few couples join the dancers, and Little Sister soon finds a new partner. It’s beginning to remind me of The Stage Door. (In fact, it’s exactly like that!) Even at his own, bizarre wedding reception, Richard Armitage finds himself confronting a line of expectant ladies, and graciously, he begins to dance for short periods with each of them. 

Meanwhile, another line is forming, consisting almost exclusively of Norwegians (easily identified by their sweaters, of course!) over at the buffet table, and I realize that the servers have put out the lefse. (Perhaps only those of us of Norwegian descent will appreciate the spot-on nature of this! LOL). I watch the lefse anxiously, knowing that the supply is limited. As the stack of lefse dwindles, I begin to become very concerned that Richard Armitage is not going to get any lefse! (This, ladies, would be an absolute calamity!) I start looking back and forth between the line of Norwegians and the line of ladies, and I realize that there is no way that Richard will have time to dance with all the ladies, and still be in time to get his lefse. I can’t let that happen. If I thought I was sweaty before, it was nothing compared to what I’m feeling now… this wedding reception is already enough of a debacle without Richard missing out on my lefse! 

After briefly deliberating whether I should try to notify Dennis about the lefse situation, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I stand up, and move to the front of the line at the dance floor, trying to ignore the sharp looks and the air of resentment from the ladies in line. Richard is spending about 30 seconds dancing with each lady, so it isn’t long before he’s standing in front of me with a polite but vacant smile, holding out his hand to take me onto the dance floor. I have no intention of dancing, not even with Richard Armitage. (Two left feet. Trust me, my four-year old can out-dance me any day of the week!)

“Um, if you want to take a quick break, the lefse is almost gone!”

Richard snaps out of his autopilot and leans in closer. “The left what is almost gone?”

“The lefse!”

“Pardon me?”

I say it several more times as I lead Richard away from the dance floor, but clearly he has no clue what lefse is. Luckily, he seems willing enough to come along with me, but I’m feeling very awkward because I’ve just pissed off half the non-Norwegian guests and Richard is looking bewildered. (Just what kind of Scandinavian has he married who never bothered to tell him about lefse?) We reach the buffet table and stand at the end of the line. (Apparently, I’ll risk the wrath of cutting into the would-be dance line, but I know better than to cut in front of Norwegians in line for lefse!) As the line moves slowly forward, I point to the Norwegians and try to get across to Richard that what they’re eating is lefse. He’s nodding. Maybe he understands me, maybe he doesn’t. I glance up at him, and he appears to be looking at my hair with a slight smile.

“Flowers in your hair?” For a moment I’m confused, then I pat my head to see if I’ve misplaced a flower there, and a small flurry of white powder puffs out of my hair. With horror, I realize Richard has noticed flour in my hair! 

“From the lefse! I made it this afternoon!” Richard smiles kindly. I wish I’d showered. Before I can die of mortification, I suddenly see that the very last piece of lefse is being plated. I gesture helplessly, and Richard witnesses the tragic moment as well. 

Although he clearly doesn’t know what he is missing, Richard appears genuinely disappointed. His shoulders slump, but I suspect he’s mostly sympathetic on my behalf. Clearly, serving him my lefse was important to me. Richard asks if there is any more in the kitchen, and I shake my head. Then he must have seen a shifty expression cross my face, because he asks, (with remarkable acuity) whether there is any more lefse at my house. (Crap!) Of course there is, but I don’t really want to share my private stash! Even with Richard Armitage! (I’m ashamed to admit that my generosity unfortunately has its limits, and its limits start with my lefse allotment. LOL)

As I narrow my eyes and wonder if I’m enough of an actress to deceive Richard Armitage about my lefse supply, Richard’s gaze suddenly shoots to something over my shoulder, and his face transforms with delight. Without having to turn around, I know that his wedded love has arrived at last. I give him a congratulatory pat on the shoulder and wave him away, vastly relieved that I don’t have to procure a single piece of lefse from my reserve.

I’m so pleased with this development, that I forget to even notice who the hell it was that Richard Armitage has married. 

* * *

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38 comments

  1. Helen · July 9, 2015

    😀 Helpless giggles…… You’ve outdone yourself this time 🙂 Wow, lefse must be good if you wouldn’t even give Richard one of your private stash 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    • jholland · July 9, 2015

      LOL. And when Hubby read this he cracked up because he knows that I’ll do just about anything, except share lefse!

      Like

  2. Guylty · July 9, 2015

    ROFL – this is wonderful. I love your dreams, J. Not only are they so hilariously random, but your little asides in them that make sense of the apparent randomness, take the biscuit. Or in this scenario: the lefse. Talking of which – I have heard of lefse, but have never eaten any. Is it crunchy? The rolled up lefse in the picture on the right indicate that they are soft? I always thought they were crunchy. I am confused. But ever more keen on trying them…
    As for Richard – well, he is a true dream man, complying with little girls’ wishes to dance, patiently waiting for a spouse, doing the stage door assembly line for the smitten guests. What a dearie!
    I sincerely hope that you dream again – and share the story with us. Fabulous, simply fabulous.

    Liked by 1 person

    • jholland · July 9, 2015

      Actually, I probably can’t say knowledgeably whether there are crispy/crunchy types of lefse because I think it’s one of those staple items that probably has numerous versions, especially in Norway. And certainly if you took it off the griddle and left it out to sit, it would harden. However, we fold them and stack them and keep a cloth wrapped around them to keep it more moist and steamy. When the eating begins, we slather on the butter, roll them up, and always eat them when hot. Without butter it might be a bit starchy, but I’ve never eaten lefse without butter… and we all know how well butter and potatoes compliment each other! It’s really just wonderful, all the more so because it’s not something we have often, only at holidays or get-togethers!

      And yes, Richard was just lovely in this dream. Poor guy! LOL

      Liked by 2 people

      • Guylty · July 9, 2015

        I like your priorities, J! 134 Words on food. 12 on Richard. You are still sane *ggg* xx

        Liked by 2 people

        • jholland · July 9, 2015

          LOL. That is telling, at least regarding the fervency of my lefse dedication. But, I don’t know that I *am* sane when it comes to lefse….

          Like

        • Guylty · July 9, 2015

          I’ll get back to you on that as soon as I have tried lefse myself! *off to find authentic recipe*

          Liked by 1 person

  3. sparkhouse1 · July 9, 2015

    OMG, lefse. If I ever come across lefse at a buffet table I won’t be able to control my laughing. This was really funny!

    Like

    • jholland · July 9, 2015

      Are you likely to come across lefse at a buffet table? LOL. If so, I need to attend the same gatherings you attend! =)

      Liked by 1 person

      • sparkhouse1 · July 9, 2015

        No, probably not…I don’t hang out with the Norwegian lefse crowd unfortunately! But if I ever see a lefse anywhere, I will remember this dream for sure.

        Like

  4. Esther · July 9, 2015

    Oooh, this is priceless!! And now I’m curious to taste Lefse and who the h*** did the man marry??!!?? Aargh! Just to make the picture complete – did Richard wear a beard or not? Short hait or long hair?

    Like

    • jholland · July 9, 2015

      I know… can you imagine, being so focused on the lefse so as not to find out the answer to the one burning question!?! And hot, hot, hot…. Clean shaven, medium-short hair! With nape curls. =)

      Liked by 3 people

      • Esther · July 10, 2015

        Ooooh, nice! Add a little stubble and there you have my fave RA look. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

        • jholland · July 10, 2015

          Oh, for sure. He’s, you know, hotness no matter what. But nape curls and stubble are pretty near irresistible. Hmmmm…. I wonder… if he had the stubble going on, if I might have coughed up a lefse. I guess we’ll never know. LOL

          Liked by 2 people

  5. linnetmoss · July 10, 2015

    A very entertaining dream! Richard came very close to plundering your lefse, and you know what THAT means 🙂

    Like

    • jholland · July 10, 2015

      ROFL! That IS probably deeply significant. I dunno if I would have allowed Hubby to read this dream if Richard plundered my lefse. *snickers*

      Liked by 2 people

      • linnetmoss · July 10, 2015

        Well, with all that melted butter, it’s very sensuous…

        Like

        • jholland · July 10, 2015

          I think Richard Armitage would look very edible with a little butter dripping down his chin. LOL

          Liked by 2 people

  6. Hariclea · July 10, 2015

    i can’t believe that food, i have to try it and see what comes BEFORE RA even to a fan like you :-))))
    Poor man, at his own wedding doing the stage door thing and dancing, that is just darn’ mean of your dram! And do those Noervegians sleep in those jumpers too, since they even wear them at weddings? 😉 Glad your mind didn’t stick R in one ;-))
    Couldn’t stop laughing all the way through.. and bet you woke up hungry after that dream! i certainly ended up just so 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    • jholland · July 10, 2015

      Yes, I did wake up hungry, in more ways than one! And can you imagine, ladies being so ridiculous as to line up like a Stage Door at the poor man’s own wedding reception!? Oh, wait… yes, I can totally imagine. LOL

      Liked by 2 people

  7. MargotMat · July 10, 2015

    You have the most entertaining dreams! Where do you gather such details? LOL
    I didn’t know what lefse is, it looks delicious and if it leads to such vivid adventures, double the pleasure… 😉

    Like

    • jholland · July 10, 2015

      Yes, this was particularly funny *to me* because I know how obsessed my whole family is about the lefse, but to be honest I didn’t know if anyone who doesn’t know about lefse’s extreme addictive capabilities would see the humor! When I go back to Colorado for that next wedding, I’m going to campaign for a lefse party… I haven’t actually had any in a couple of years, and who knows what kind of dReAm that might inspire? =)

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Servetus · July 19, 2015

    Mmm, lefse with butter — but I’ve never seen it at a wedding. At Christmas dinners.

    and oh yeah, yum, Richard Armitage. Glad his partner showed up after all!

    It seems to me like a rule of weddings that there is always one rule-obsessed wedding guest. Theory: it has something to do with the liminal nature of the whole thing — it makes insecure people crazy and forces out their control freak features.

    Like

    • jholland · July 19, 2015

      Ah! I was wondering if you were a fellow lefse aficionado! I’ve never seen it at a wedding either, but if I did it would go down as a memorable one. LOL. Yes, there usually is someone rule-obsessed. My own Dad is so laid back (and had no desire to provide any input on my wedding planning process) it was just mind-boggling to watch Dennis in action. Quite the novelty for me. =)
      Re: Richard’s partner arriving… boy was I relieved, too. Glad for him, but much more glad for myself and my lefse stash. =)

      Liked by 1 person

  9. Servetus · July 19, 2015

    Damn. Now I am craving lefse. This is an impossible craving to fulfill.

    Like

    • jholland · July 19, 2015

      If I can get a lefse crew together in August, I could probably freeze a few and overnight them to you. I can sympathize with a lefse craving. =)

      Liked by 1 person

  10. Servetus · July 19, 2015

    Not being a Norwegian-American, I’ve only ever had it at other people’s houses. It can be purchased in Wisconsin supermarkets but I think you have to sort of look over your shoulder when you’re doing it to make sure the neighbors aren’t looking, a bit like buying margarine. It is fantastically delicious. I don’t think I’ve ever had cinnamon sugar on it. Just the thing itself with the butter.

    (A lot of Anglo Texans I know have a similar thing for fresh flour tortillas, hot off the grill, with butter, as well.)

    Like

    • jholland · July 19, 2015

      Yeah, I’ve heard it can be purchased in Wisconsin, Minnesota and a few other places where the Norwegian-American population is higher. I’ve always wondered how it compared to home-made. Probably unfavorably, but maybe still delicious when you’re really in a “lefse bind” LOL.

      Liked by 1 person

  11. Servetus · July 19, 2015

    It totally could!

    I was laughing because when I am out of the office for more than four hours now, I have to put a sign on my office (and leave an autoresponder on my email) that says “if you are experiencing an advising emergency, please contact …” and I’ve been trying to figure out for several months what exactly would count as an advising emergency.

    Like

    • jholland · July 19, 2015

      “I’m experiencing an advising emergency. I have no lefse and am unsure how to procure any. Please advise!”

      Like

      • Servetus · July 19, 2015

        That’s pretty good, actually! Although I’m guessing my “advising cover” doesn’t know the answer, either.

        I wonder if it’s not a secret message that is supposed to hint to the recipient that no advising emergency is very dire. But I didn’t pick the language. 🙂

        Like

        • jholland · July 19, 2015

          Not many advising emergencies are probably very dire. But the lefse scenario just might be. =)

          Liked by 1 person

  12. Servetus · July 19, 2015

    Especially at a Norwegian wedding where the bride is absent. I just suggest that you don’t email my university account about it, because I really don’t have any advice 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Pingback: Happy-Eyed Richard Armitage Will Get Me Every Time | preoccupiedwitharmitage

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