Liv thrust open the door of her uncle's home at Moen and burst out onto the stoop. "Halvor!" she called to the only person in sight. "Where are the menfolk?"

Halfway across the courtyard, the fifteen-year-old visitor from Homme paused, a sack of grain across his shoulder. "Down by the hayfield, watching the stallion they just brought over from Brekke farm." He glanced at the farmhouse. "Your cousin Egeleiv, has she--?"

A baby wailed

Liv grinned. "Ja, she has! Time to call Såmund."

Halvor turned and bellowed, "Knut! Come take a message to your father!"

Egeleiv's eldest, now sixteen, came running from the threshing barn, another bag whumping on his back.

Liv called out, "Tell your father to finish his horse-haggling and go bid the neighbors to come. I've already set the childbirth porridge to cooking."

Knut whooped, dumped his barley sack, and took off running, Halvor close behind.

Liv grinned again as she went back in to tend the porridge. What a surprise Egeleiv had in store for her husband.

News traveled fast. The courtyard was milling with the folk of Moen and their closest neighbors by the time Såmund arrived from the lower fields. Halvor and Knut were setting up trestle tables and benches. Liv's two-year-old daughter Sigrid climbed around on the forgotten mountain of grain sacks. Egeleiv's three daughters ran a fruitless chase, trying to catch their little brother and the youngster visiting from Brekke, both three years old.

Liv's husband Torjus balanced baby Anne while he argued the merits of certain stallions with Olav of Brekke, who also dandled a bairn. The year 1747 was turning into a bounteous one for babies. A firstborn son had just graced the household of another Olav, Torjus' brother who now lived at Støyle farm.

Olav Brekke's wife came up, out of breath. "I can't grab hold of that boy of ours. He's wild as a colt. Give me the baby, Master Horseman, and you try catching him."

"I'll fetch the little ruffians," offered Knut, and he went after the rowdy three-year-olds. He returned with one boy riding piggyback and laughing, and another running behind and clamoring for a turn.

When Såmund, last to arrive, finally set foot in the house, he blinked at the sight. Egeleiv reclined against the cushions on their corner bed, a tiny squalling babe nestled in each arm.

"Ah, nei, you'll not trick me!" He grinned. "Whose is the other one, out of all this flock of babes?"

"Both are ours, dearest." Egeleiv laughed. "Twins! We'll get to use both names we'd decided upon."

"A boy and a girl?" Såmund's jaw dropped, and the womenfolk giggled.

"Sweet little Torbjørg," Egeleiv murmured to one babe, then lifted the other. "And to carry on my father's name at last, our precious little Aslak."

"The porridge is ready!" Liv cried."Who didn't bring a spoon?"

BEHIND THE SCENES

Porridge bowls often were used in common, but everyone had their own wooden spoon, often intricately carved. When you finished eating, you licked your spoon clean and jammed the handle in a crack in the wall until the next meal. Dishes done!

During dark winter days, men spent much of their indoor time carving, decorating even the most commonplace of wooden utensils. (see photo above)

Friends and neighbors were usually invited to come for the midday meal the day following a healthy birth. Childbirth porridge was traditionally served up in a bucket made of juniper slats, and decorated on the exterior with rosemal folk painting.

Background on barley porridge, from the recipe book Mat frå Telemark, or Food from Telemark (p. 47):

"Grauten was daily fare. It was barley meal boiled in water. The kettle stood over the heat until the meal was cooked. But then some would treat it so that the mush was dryer. They beat in a sufficient amount of new meal, and then took the graut-kettle off the fire. This means that the mush consisted of one part cooked meal, mixed with raw meal. Grauten was served up in large bowls, and many ate out of the same bowl, each after their ranking in the household." (Don't try this recipe... it deserves relegating to some dusty archive!)

The following recipe sounds a little more appetizing: a variation fit for celebrations like harvest or childbirth. This recipe, enough to serve a crowd, comes from Morgedal. (p. 52 in Mat frå Telemark)

Childbirth Porridge

1 pound butter
8 cups milk
½ beaker (?) of heavy cream, to taste
½ cup semolina
wheat or barley flour
salt to taste

Melt butter in the kettle. Add milk and cream and let it boil with semolina for about 10 minutes. Add sifted flour, enough to make a thick porridge. When the porridge is thick enough and well-boiled, then the butter will separate so the porridge floats in the kettle.

* * *

Egeleiv, who already had five children, gave birth to twins in 1747, including little Aslak. That same year, Liv had her second daughter which she named Anne after her own mother.

Around the world in 1747:
• Denmark claimed Norway as a province.
• Louis XV reigned in France.
• George II held England's throne.
• Emperor Momozono had just ascended to the throne of Japan.
• A young George Washington was working as a surveyor in the British colony of Virginia.