"Doing manly things,
like lifting heavy objects, and
spitting."
(Somewhere like this...)
(No limiting "collateral damage", thank you!)
This is now, at home in Lofoten. It's cold, but impossibly beautiful. 
This afternoon I started Greek classes again. The undying curiosity, could I possibly learn Greek properly one day? I thought there wouldn't be any - there are only 5 of us at advanced level - but they decided they'd go through with it. One of the other pupils is my dad, we've been taken these classes together on and off for years, it's very nice meeting out of the family circle as it were. Two other guys we've also had classes with several times before. One of them has an apartment in Rethymnon and a cabin on Gavdos. *sigh* Now, the last one, a woman, I've never seen before. Apparently she was Norwegian, but she had a Greek name and spoke with an unmistakable Cretan accent. *double sigh*
We were staying here, traditional building style, nice view of surrounding hills (well, mountains of sort - the downhill and other alpine competitions were held here).
But we weren't there just for the scenery or to get away from home. We were joining a triplet gathering (there are none for just people like us), 11 families altogether, about 40 kids (yes, some had siblings, like us. But only one sibling younger than the triplets...). We had a grand time :) We'd met quite a few of the families on similar gatherings before, but it has only been one day things, and we've been spending most of our time running after the kids.
It's my one year bloggiversary today*, and you're all invited! (But MoncriefSpeaks - if "Mark part V" is still missing, you're staying in the sitooterie...)
For sentimental reasons, my very first post. Bless you.
* I'm posting this one day too soon, but we're going away after work so I had to post it now...
Jakob describes Greece - Portugal, 3-1 (and 83 minutes played). As you can see, in detail, Nikopolidis (oh yes, he's big in our house, they're always fighting to be Nikopolidis if they're goalkeeping!) is very pleased about the save whereas the hitherto unnamed Portuguese is not...
Filip is only slightly influenced by his oldest brother, as you can see... But it's a different game - Vålerenga (Norwegian premier league) plays England (sic!) and even though Paul Harrison saves, the Vålerenga player doesn't seem too disappointed...
Another rip-off - but in his own style! - Mathias' football match. And this one, Liverpool's Peter Crouch, does score. Against whom, he didn't say. (Mathias, that is, not Crouchie...)
Thomas is very eager to play football, not quite so eager to draw it. But here's himself, and a four-legged statue on a colourful carpet, and lots of writing! (And how did you guess his dad's a big Toto fan...?)"we shall not bite or strangle eachother"
We laugh openly at them when they flock to our mountains to learn skiing, but we secretly love them for choosing our country to spend time in... (They also provide a steady income for doctors working extra over Easter, as they tend to fall down and break something while learning...) Photo: Example of Norwegian mountain, Norway's highest - Galdhøpiggen, 2469 metres (8100 feet) above sea level. 
This morning, walking to school, we met these cute creatures: 1 froggy (mum-size, about 3 inches /7,5 cms long) and 1 blindworm (or should I say ex-blindworm, it was thoroughly flattened by a car...) of about 8 inches (20 cms). It's one of only two snake types existing in this country, it's tiny and not in the least dangerous, but I was still grateful a car had had the thoughtfulness of completely bereaving it of all life before we arrived...
Now I returned to do Latin, and was taking notes in Greek. Fat lot of help that does me now if I want to check out some Latin!
, still contemplating whether I ought to quit, though, so I could spend more time at home when the quads started school. And I was still high from our holidays in Crete in May, so I lived through the winter!
"Photography cannot replace painting before you can photograph heaven and hell"
And if needs should be... A translation of sorts here. It was, of course, a great day, a day to be remembered. And even though I'm an England fan at heart, this piece of commentary is worth remembering! (More match facts here and you can hear a clip right here.)
In 2002 The Observer voted it best sports commentary ever! If only everyone would be this enthusiastic about their work...
2 cuts - one got 4 stitches, the other needed 12. (Now I've seen subcutaneous fat, nerve fibres and a muscular attachment too. Not something I'd like to repeat..) During the whole ordeal, S said nothing, only winced a few times - mostly when he had his 6 shots of local anaesthetic - and although he was swetting like mad under the green cloth, needed to go to the bathroom and actually felt a lot of the stitching, he lay still. Like broccoli (as Julia Roberts would have said in Pretty Woman..). His mum patting his head under the cloth and me walking to and fro, frantically changing between nausea and curiosity, the nurse assisting and pretending we weren't in the way... 
