From the land of eternal snow...

It certainly feels like it at the moment, anyway. This was last night, it could have been tonight!

Now, contrary to many people's belief, there are in fact no polar bears in the streets of mainland Norway... (But there are in Spitsbergen etc.)

These were just so cute, though!

Polar bear tips on what you need for a great life:

Time for relaxation

Good sleep

Good looks

Good health and exercise

A bit of adventure

Someone to dance with

Bear hugs

Real love

But always - watch out for those bastard penguins!

Modern times. Part three: Enchantment

On my return to England I found, much to my dismay, that the typewriter just wasn't enough. We had to do our work on the computer. So I ventured into the computer room, reignited my Word Perfect knowledge, and became a WP wiz (if there ever was such a thing). I was beginning to enjoy it!

Then I caught someone giggling by the machine. Now, even though I knew the codes for bold and italics by heart by then, I didn't giggle. Not much. So I asked what they were doing?! They told me they were talking to someone on a different machine. In the same room. (Bear in mind this was still in the stone age.) I figured it had to be some kind of telexing... I felt vaguely attracted to it. Then someone told me that only overseas students (I was one!) with a tutor overseas (I hadn't got one...) were allowed to even have a password for this strange kind of mail contact. It was way too expensive for the university if everyone were to do the same. I felt a keener attraction immediately...

An acquaintance helped me create a name ("Mowgli") and a password. He also told me the thing was called "isca" and that the address was a multi-digit number. I had no idea what he was on about, but I did as he said. And suddenly I was giggling by the machine too!

Being there really late (well, actually quite early in the morning), to avoid the inspectors who were out to make sure we didn't waste university money, I found I'd connected with people in the States and Australia, who were supposed to be up at those hours... I was awestruck! Then it turned out my most trusted "isca friend" was in fact in the same room as me. I know that for a fact, as he got up and waved at me... I was confused. Was this telexing within a room, or some kind of magic instant writing contact across the oceans???

As you'll all know, it was both. I stayed in that room and learnt a lot about it. I learnt that sleep was no longer interesting. (In fact, sleep makes me very irritable even these days...)

I learnt that even if I send an Irish Monopoly board game to my isca friend in the States, it doesn't mean he returns an American one. (I'm still waiting!)

But I loved it.

Isca had no images, no colours, just plain writing, black or blue screens with white print. Still, it was like magic. And then I discovered chat rooms... We even convinced some invisible managerial person to make us a Python quote room! Thank goodness we only had 9 hours class every week, and practically no homework!

Now all I've got to do is convince my boss and / or my hubby that blogging through the night makes me a better worker / wife / mum. Easy...

February's finest...

It's the carnival season, but still..!

Monday two Norwegians showed up at work dressed as Klan members, waving the South State flag and all. Almost half of their colleagues are non-Westerners.

They were given till the end of the day to hand in their resignations...

At least they didn't require medical assistance!

Modern times. Part two: Enlightenment

I was going to work as a Manpower temp. So I got a crash course of Word Perfect. Remember it? (All I could find was a screen shot of an Apple version, I think mine looked the same.)


I rather enjoyed it. Then was put to work as a dishwasherette (for want of a better word), so I didn't use it. And forgot most of it. My friend M still had her computer - I still borrowed time on it for the sake of Paint...

Then I went to England again, for my MA. Time to change . . .

Modern times. Part one: The Dark Ages

My father was given a text machine. The screen was dark green, the writing light green. We were delighted... It couldn't do anything a typewriter couldn't, except saving. We wrote pages just for the fun of saving.

My friend M's family bought a computer. With DOS and some ancient Windows type. She taught me to use Paint. So I painted. And nearby fainted everytime the machine brought Dos back on...

I went to study in England. They had a computer room. I didn't go there - why should I, having brought a typewriter from Norway! (This was 1989, this must be said.) Still, the class was given an introductory course to computers. There were three of us for each machine. Huge, square, black-screened machines.
I learnt how to turn it on and off. So did the other two on my machine. That was about all we had time for.

I went home at the end of the year, still carrying my typewriter . . .

Home!

We're home! Which means here (Merujo, this does remind me of a house you once posted as your dream house, am I close?).

The view from the cabin wasn't precisely as I laid out in the previous post. This is what it actually looked like: I know. Even better!! (Yes, that's the actual view from the actual cabin while we were actually there...)

After our first night we found these tracks on our terrace - we figured they were the tracks of a hare - but we never saw who made them... Still, the kids were thrilled!

We had a great week off, we really did. The weather was mostly excellent, the kids were mostly not killing eachother (the few attempts were interrupted), the not-having-to-go-by-the-watch was priceless... We all played outside for several hours every day. Which meant the kids weren't half as tired at nights as we were, as they're used to outdoor life whereas we really don't do that many off-to-the-forest-excursions during a normal working day...

Here's going up - long, long line... (One kid already on top of the hill!)














And here's Mathias going down. Get ye away from his path!

When we weren't outside we were playing good, old-fashioned board games. (As it turned out, they weren't bored games!) The kids even chose playing for children's tv, which is rare! This game in particular won them over - even though Jakob and Filip are extremely competitive and would be equally devastated (i.e. furious) whenever they lost - but they'd still play another round...

Winter break!

The world around me looks like this:

And for once, holidays seems well timed! We are leaving Saturday, and will be gone for a week. It's the first time we'll go off for our winter break. (I haven't had a winter break since school anyway, but even back then, we never went off anywhere...)
We'll be renting one of the cabins in this photo (sic!) and as you can see, there'll be tobogganing from morning till late night :) We'll even let the kids borrow the sleds if they've finished washing up... Noooo... The cabin's got a dishwasher, as well as two WC's (essential when you've got 5 kids!), a sauna, and basically everything you need for a perfectly relaxing holiday!

Oh, and we've even got a spare bed, so just give us a ring if you want to join in, right!??!

And for such a holiday, one needs to be prepared. Last time I bought skis (we're talking cross country - like every good Norwegian) I was in 8th or 9th grade. It's been a while...
So today I went out and bought a ski set - just look!
Let's just give that boot a closer look...
Yes, it's really loud, not exactly me... But it came with the set, it's actually horribly expensive (if you buy it separately, that is), it's water proof and it'll keep me warm.

And it'll be buried in snow most of the time anyway...

So, my dear bloglings, I'll be seeing you around next weekend or so, ok? The cabin doesn't come with a computer, which I think my family's rather happy about (and me just slightly nervous about)...

The kids have taken turn staying home from school / kindergarten this week, but we're hoping they'll wear it all off by tomorrow night, so we can set off fresh and well Saturday morning! Hope you all have a fantastic week and I'll see what photo opportunities this place will bring!

Chloe - you're it!

This time you were spot on, Chloe - my visitor no. 4,000!

You'll have to share this glorious honour with Merujo, as you were logged in at the exact same time last night, but I'm sure it will not take away that exhilerating feeling being someone's visitor no. 4,000 will give you . . .

And for both of you - the only flowers I could find this time of year - ice roses!

Valentine...

My feelings about this day is best wrapped up by this quote from a colleague:

"I will tell my wife I love her any given day, but NOT because it's expected from me!"

Unfortunately, my hubby's rather taken with the idea of Valentine's day. (Which is quite new in Norway. Not that he misses out on a chance of telling me about his feelings other days either...) And with all the attention that goes with it I guess I just might mellow in time!

Meanwhile, this little fellow turns 16 today! A little friend (or not so little anymore!) who was also enjoying Crete and the Harley back in '94...

Now you judge for yourselves, who is cuter - Ulrik, or St. Valentine?

That's it, I've officially joined!

What, you may ask? Well, I'll give you some alternatives:

a) the Foreign Legion
b) the Salvation Army
c) the Monty Python's flying circus
d) none of the above

Talk amongst yourselves for a minute now...

Yes, most of you got this right! I have, in fact, joined the Bluddy List of Great Novels. So from now on, you'll not only have Rarity's well-founded thoughts and philosophical meanderings around the bookshelves, you'll also have my odd post there, probably hailing a book you didn't know you wanted to read. Knowing you all I've even left a link on my blogroll so that you may find it without further ado also in the future...

So, what are you waiting for? Get yourselves over there immediately!

Oh, about c). Just wishful thinking, I'm afraid. Possibly spurred on by the fact that Mr. John Cleese Himself will be visiting Norway in May!

Roots = Routes?

The first time I ever went to Greece I was 13 years old. I went there with my dad, who'd been longing to go ever since he studied Classical Greek at university.

This was a long time ago, and Hersonisos, Crete, was a simple fishing village with the odd tourist added. We were adding to that!

As soon as I set foot on Crete - literally - I felt so exhileratingly happy! As if I'd been homesick all my life and finally had made my way back to my roots. You can see from this photo comment how I felt about it all...

Needless to say, it wasn't mine - or our - last trip. The other photo is from the following summer, taken on the boat going to Chora Sfakion from Agia Roumeli, where we ended up having walked down the Samaria Gorge. Again. (Daddy's girl, me...?)

I've only experienced the same homecoming feeling one other place. Not at home. But the first - and so far only - time I went to Dublin, the exact same feeling set in when I stepped out of the plane. The fog, the rain, the customs manager waving me past as an EU citizen although I insisted I wasn't (I came on a plane from England) - it meant nothing, I was home.

Go rabh maith agat and ευχαριστώ πάρα πολύ!

My kids sometimes ask where they were before I met their dad. I have settled for "in God's heart". But perhaps, more accurately, they were hopping between Greece and Ireland too?

Before going to a concert... Read this!

I wrote this after a de lillos gig in April 1991, but some of it's useful advice, I think... (Freshly translated into English tonight.)

We're at the doors a couple of hours before they open. First one's in. We tie our jackets around our waists to avoid any queues at the wardrobe. Then we make our way towards the stage. By common sense and natural selection (after all, this is not our first concert!) we're all 5'7" (170 cms). Which means our lower ribs will be pressed against the fence in front of the stage. This might sound painful (and indeed is, I broke a rib in one of these concerts), but is actually both smart and necessary for two reasons: If we were any taller, the fence would be pressed into our stomachs and leave no space to draw air. My good friend C, 5'10", knows what I'm talking about. She once had to be carried out by the Red Cross and revived with a few hundred litres of water during a concert... And were we any shorter, it would have been even more painful, as we're all girls (women? In our early twenties...) and there were at least two protruding elements making the fence less desirable for us than for our male co-concertees...

From experience we hooked one leg on each side of a bar in the fence so we stayed put as the crowd started to move. Two of our male friends, above the magical height, opted for going with the flow, which meant moving wildly back and forth. Afterwards they told us they'd actually only heard the first song... . We have had just enough to eat and drink. Meaning we wouldn't have to leave our posts to stand in endless lines at the rest room or at the bar. We were ready!

[...]

Later on, I scream without sound; "I'm so thirsty!" to my friend nearest by. The singing, shouting and increasingly smoke-filled air has left us with no voices. Her increasingly blue face implies that she shares my feelings, though. Two seconds later the lead singer swallows the last drop of something from a bottle. She and I stare at eachother, then at the stage floor. There's a rich selection of brown and white bottles there. Now, neither Farris nor beer is my favourite drink, but I was so thirsty! And it looked so good! I saw my friend repeat the moves in pure apathy as the singer opened a new bottle. He took a sip. We gasped. Then he moved towards the microphone stay. Past it. Straight at us. Then he gives us the bottle! We gasp again.
He starts playing, and we share the best beer ever. Moses in his desert was never more satisfied with a sudden well of water than we were that night...

Fairly accurate :)

You're a Stuffed Animal!
Everybody loves you, though most of them are truly ashamed to admit it. You love children most of all, though you're not really all that expressive of your emotions. You're not terribly active, and end up spending altogether too much time in bed, although most people secretly suspect that you really love to take trips and travel around. A kid at heart, you'd be a lot better off if no one ever grew up. You are most annoying when stuffed into the back of a car.

Take the Animal Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.

Culture week!

Another night out! Seriously, it's been a year since last time, now 3 times in one week.

Last night my hubby and I went to the Jamie Cullum concert. It was excellent! Fantastic musicality, and he's so much fun, so talented, so energetic - the whole 1,200 man/woman crowd were extatic. (Yes, he's also cute...) I loved it!

A friend of mine was right at the front row - her hair even more tousled than Jamie's even before the concert started - she's a huge fan!

Until I learn how to post a snippet, I'll just have to lead you on to my very low quality pirate recording of a Jamie song from last night! (I'm sorry, apparently it doesn't work on Macs and I have no idea how to change that...)

If you get the chance, go and see him! Oh, and listen, of course... (Try the "Jamie FM song player" on his website!)

My humblest apologies

Last night I sat up until 1 o'clock. Again. But I wasn't doing anything worthwhile, like watching snooker or blogging, and even though my husband stayed up as well (a rare happening!) we weren't doing anything worthwhile either, if you get my drift...

No, we were watching golf. Until 1 o'clock. And we don't even like golf. I stopped by the sports channel looking for football, snooker, possibly handball - and it was golf. Only, just as I was lifting my index finger to press the "next" button on the remote, the commentator revealed that a Norwegian, a local lad, was in fact leading the PGA tournament.

So, we stayed tuned. And our boy ended 10th, which was brilliant! The point is, though, at 1 o'clock, it wasn't even finished. But we really had to get some sleep before sweet morning has broken and all that. So yes, we sat up really, really, way too late, and never knew who won! (Luckily internet's back on track at work, so I found out today.) (Tiger, should anyone care...)

Golf? I'm not even 40! How could this happen!??!

Norwegian Jets and Sharks

My dad invited me to West Side Story last night. I loved it! It's probably been five years since my last musical, and possibly the original was better (as one reviewer pointed out) - but the original is always best, isn't it? And this was my version!

They'd mustered what Norway has to offer of non-Scandinavian looking artists to make up the Sharks - here Arlene Wilkes (originally from Trinidad) as Anita, dancing with her Bernardo (Kjetil Tefke, Norwegian).

"America" was chosen as the last number of first act (you know the one, I used to think the lyrics were "lalala-lala-Ame-ri-ca", apparently there were words...), I had goosebumps all the way through, no less.

And even though I knew the story I cried towards the end...

I didn't quite feel the sparks from Maria and Tony's relationship, but it was fair enough. [I was only slightly put off by the fact that "Tony" reminds me extremely of someone, and as I couldn't (still can't) remember who, I started thinking more of that than of his character...]

And Kjetil Tefke - did leave me breathless... Incidentally, Siljemor danced with him an entire night out on town this summer. Say no more!

After all was said and done (and danced), it seemed my dad and I were the only ones who knew how to whistle (and I mean really whistle) and his was a little rusty (he doesn't get to do it a lot around the house...) so I filled the air while the rest of the audience had to make do with oohs and aahs...

Fun exercise (2)

We've already been through this. There's no such thing! But hear me out...

Preface:
1. Carry loads and loads of documents from the archives at the end of the corridor to your desk
2. Take the scooter (sic!) down for more paper.
3. Repeat 1 and 2.
4. Pack all documents in boxes, stuff them in the elevator, go down to the basement.

Open the door to the main archives. Take a quick look and learn that all the boxes you're supposed to be throwing away (i.e. have destructed) are furthest in. And the floors are already covered in sacks of papers that have already been 'chosen' for destruction.

Now, let the fun begin!

Hold on to the shelf railings and climb over to the files you need. Throw them, no, hurl them over in the general direction of the doorway. Repeat. Again. And again. Etc.

Climb back. Stack all the papers in thereto suited rubbish sacks. Notice how they cover every inch of available floor. Start folding the now empty boxes.

Then...

Bring in all the boxes you brought with you in the elevator. Start with A1 and put it in the now empty shelves. Balance them in one hand as you climb the shelves with wobbly knees yet a firm grip of your "free" hand. Put the box in place. Climb back. Get A2. Repeat. Etc.

Now, when you get to about M4, you realise there's not enough space. Clear the top shelf with extra large boxes. (Place them on the floor. On top of the other extra large boxes. Who needs to be able to open them anyway...) Move A1 to the now available space. Climb to get to A1. Etc. Etc.

When you reach W2, realise you're out of space. The room's out of space. You're actually running out of room. (But not running out of the room, as you're stuck in the shelf. Remember?)

If you don't believe me, you should try. It really is heavy work!

Doesn't sound like fun? Oh, but it is :) It doesn't quite have the woohoo or the yihaa of this, but it certainly has a yabbadabbadoo and a Tarzanic aaaiaaayiaaaa...

Possibly, you must have 5 quite young, rather loud kids awaiting as only alternative to enjoy this as I did, but hey, you should see my biceps now ;)

Long lost friends...

I just watched Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail. Again. Hadn't seen it in years, though, and it was like meeting an old friend! Admittedly an old, very weird, totally irrational friend, but so much more fun...

Of course I still remembered the plot ('plot' being used very loosely...). And I remembered the Black knight ("what're you gonna do? Bleed on me?") who was left standing (again, 'standing' being used loosely as both his legs had been cut off...) by his post. I remembered the staggering, philosophical journey to reveal that a certain woman was, in fact, a witch...

But I had, in fact, forgotten this bloke, and his horrible taunting of the English:

"Hah! I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!!"

I just love the Pythons... And no, EllasDevil, I don't need the subtitles to laugh :) (I've got it on vhs as well - only forgot about it for a while - without subtitles...)

Is there anybody out there?

Yes - I am, now :)



I'm up there... ET will be reading your comments next! And thanks to Deni for showing me the way to Bloginspace in the first place... (Ok, I'm not sure what this means either, but hey, a cool certificate! Who am I to turn it down...?)

Note to self:

I must not stay up until 1 in the morning and watch snooker when I have to get up at 6. I must not stay up until 1 in the morning and watch snooker when I have to get up at 6. I must not stay up until 1 in the morning and watch snooker when I have to get up at 6. I must not stay up until 1 in the morning and watch snooker when I have to get up at 6. I must not stay up until 1 in the morning and watch snooker when I have to get up at 6. I must not...

Especially not when Ronnie loses after all...

Modern times

The last few days internet and mail have been out of order at work. Tonight, mail isn't working at home. Am I jinxed?

Not being able to check yellow pages, court judgments and various other vital information at work is bad enough - but at home? Not having mail when / if there's a comment on my blog? It's like being without an arm and a leg. Which is why this page scares me... (Even though I had to laugh!)

I have no idea what I'll do at work tomorrow if this keeps up. WHAT? Work??? Sorry. Couldn't hear you...

...when I'm 64

This morning I saw a woman, a little on the chubby side, grey hairs showing. She was vaguely familiar, but I didn't really recognise her. Not until she started repeating my exact moves.

I was looking in the mirror.

Now, how weird is that!? I know for a fact I'm but a wee lassie of, say, 25 - my hubby will confirm this! - and yet, here was this impersonator in my very own bathroom.

Uh-oh. Spooky. Will I still need me, will I still feed me, when I'm 64?

one hundred and three thousand

No, I haven't had 103,000 visitors to my blog. And I haven't won 103,000 kroner in a lottery. (I think.)

But - that last thing was my 100th post - and visitor no. 3,000 came by sometime last night. So - I'm pretty content with my little hobby here! And I am truly grateful for each of you visiting, to think you'll not only stop by but actually come back again! It makes me feel I've got true friends around the world :)

So, in celebration of no. 100, here's a few posts revisited:

From September: about my granddad
October had me thinking about this
I seem to have had a lot of time on my hands in November - and I'll have to get back to Looking dignified... with the photos of the Harley as well, of course!
My most visited post ever was also in November
And this was rather fun (the joke not being on me, for once) in December.

And because I feel I need some colour in this post, I'll put in one of Jakob's drawings. Yes, that's him in a Liverpool kit!

not exactly tagged, but -

I have been sort of tagged by different bloggers... Including Riannan, Chloe, HuskerDu, Connie and Rob ... So here goes!

Four jobs I’ve had in my life

Sexton
Dishwasher (they called it kitchen temp...)
Translator
Legal Secretary

Four Movies I Watch Over and Over Again

Much ado about nothing
Sleepless in Seattle
Lethal Weapon (all of them)
Pretty woman

Four Places I’ve Lived

Svolvær, Lofoten, Norway
Guildford, Surrey, England
Chania, Crete, Greece (4 months count as living somewhere, right?)
Oslo, Norway

Four TV Shows I Love to Watch

Nytt på Nytt (the Norw. 'Have I got news for you')
Monty Python's flying circus
Nanny (whenever it's repeated!)
- - - but basically I watch football (= soccer!) whenever possible!

Four Places I’ve Been on Holidays

Chania, Crete, Greece
Chania, Crete, Greece
Chania, Crete, Greece
Chania, Crete, Greece
- ok, ok, I've been to Iraklio too ;)

Four Websites I Visit Daily (mostly I visit blogs, but also:)

www.liverpoolfc.tv
www.worldsnooker.com
www.google.com - I know I wrote something else earlier, but just because I don't think of Google as a website as it's on both my tool bar and my task bar...
www.statcounter.com

Four of My Favorite Foods

Chocolate – preferably milk chocolate
Pizza
Lasagna

Γυρόπιτες (hope that's where the τόνος goes...)

Four Places I’d Rather Be Right Now

Chania, Crete, Greece
Chania, Crete, Greece
Chania, Crete, Greece
anywhere else in Greece
(hah – that was a surprise!)

I don't think I'll tag anyone else, everyone seems to have - - ok, perhaps Sam, Alexquinn, Rarity and "D" would like to share??? Alexquinn would be doing this in Norwegian, but never mind :) And I just tagged "D" for another one as well, but perhaps I just really like to know more about her...

Five weird habits...

From Redmum - who thought all Irish bloggers had already done this meme, so she tagged everybody else ;)

1. I'm right-handed, but can write legibly with my left hand as well. Even better, I can write with both hands simultaneously. From the middle to the sides, or meeting in the middle. One will be reversed writing, of course.

2. My hubby and I have lasagna every Friday night. It's been like that for about ten years, and we're looking forward to it just as much every Friday.

3. I tend to tap rhythm with my left hand. Not only if I'm searching my lovely iPod with my right, but at any given moment. (Provided there's music, at least in my head.)

4. I daydream in English, and in Trebuchet font (this)... Since when? Oh, incidentally since September, when I started blogging...

5. I wear holes in my shoes - even thick winter boots - where my big toes are. After only one season. I believe this comes from the angle in which the toes grow, happily pointing upwards.

Ok... People who get tagged need to write an entry about their five weird habits - as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose the next five people to be tagged. Hmm. Only five?! And I'd really like to learn more about the weird habits of all my bluddies... Oh well, I know Rarity of old, and Sam's already revealed he likes to say things that Hugh Grant might have said in a film... Then there are my Norwegian bluddies who I'm sure have interesting habits but whose blogs most of you can't read... So I hereby ask Riannan, Chloe, "D", Claire and Cathy for their five weirdest habits!

Yes I am!

Dum-de-dum-dum...

I'm going to see Børge! I'm going to Lisbon! I'm going on a trip without kids!! They're all adorable, naturally, but...

At the end of March I'm going there. See?!



I've never even been there before. And never met my former flatmate Børge's gorgeous boyfriend Daniel... Looking forward to seeing both! I'll even have my own room, with this view, more or less :) (Ok, this is at the cafeteria 20 metres up their cobblestone-step-road, but you get the drift!)


Dum-de-dum-dum...

Recipe of happiness

50 fingers waving
10 little arms outstretched
10 glittering eyes (2 squinting) smiling
10 feet stepdancing with joy
10 cuddly cheeks (2 with dimples) waiting
5 LOUD and happy voices sounding

All this for the arrival of ONE mum. Every day.

Surely, I must be the luckiest person on earth!

Dissection & Digression

I used to love essay writing in school (didn't all bloggers-to-be?). At least as long as we could decide for ourselves what to write... Around the age of 13 we were supposed to have meaningful exchanges on "pros and cons of VHS" (yes, I'm that old!), "why women are as good as men" (I mean, really old!!) etc.

AND we had to do poetry analysis. Which I absolutely and totally loathed. Abhorred.

I loved poetry, I actually read quite a lot of poetry even at that age, but analysing it..? (My friend Børge could tell you largely about my struggles with having to analyse anything - but then he has a degree in literary science and has read a zillion books, so he'll just have to bear over with me... And I think I just might have improved since back then, at least I hope so!) Anyway, I digress...

Well, having learnt nothing from this horrid experience, I went on to study English. Literature, amongst other things. Where we had to do - you guessed it - poetry analysis... Or dissection, as it felt like.

But this time I was old enough to do it my way.

I remember sitting in the study hall* reading a poem by Robert Graves: Welsh Incident. I loved it! So naturally, for once, I studied it properly, learnt about rhythm and stanzas and hidden meanings and whatnot and wrote a brilliant essay, right? Erh...

Admittedly, for the next 4 hours solid I sat buried in a pile of books. But on Welsh, Welsh accentuation, The Differences between Northern and Southern Welsh et al. I read it semi-loud to myself (to much discontent from people around me!), then read it aloud for my friends over dinner. They were not amused...

But such digressions make my day.

In fact, that one made a whole week! :) And when I later travelled to Wales, and saw the signs for Borth, Tremadoc, Penrhyndeudraeth, not to mention Criccieth, I practically grew wings...

The essay? Oh, the essay... My teacher was so nice, she didn't have the heart to put me down to where I should have been, I guess I was ok. I can't remember the grade, but the poem and Wales I always remember! No wonder I've got such a soft spot for you, Sam...

*I had been at university for 6 months, occasionally wondering where those stairs were leading, when I was told the study hall was up there. Incidentally, I flunk my first exam that same term. No connection, probably.

Quote of the day (8) - bloggers' motto?

How do I know what I think till I see what I
say?

E. M. Forster

7 things

Seven Things That Attract Me To Blogging

1. Having an excuse to write
2. Reading other peoples writing - or excuses to write :)
3. Making 'bluddies' all over the world (the downside is, there are so many to miss when I have no time for blogging!)
4. Learning a thing or two about templates, html and the like (I know, Rarity, I still ask too many questions!)
5. Not watching tv half as much as I used to!
6. Daydreaming in English, and in full sentences, for later use on my blog
7. Enjoying every moment ...

Seven Things I Say Most Often

1. I'll just check my mail [not blog]...
2. Don't bite / hit / pinch / ... your sister / brother!
3. This bluddy just wrote that...
4. Yeah, right
5. I'll write about that on my blog / I just wrote about that on my blog
6. It's not me. It's a quote.
7. Ah, when can we go back to Greece?

Seven Impractical Things I Think Would Be Really Cool Anyway

1. A mute control to silence the kids at least a few minutes every day...
2. - and I'm blatantly stealing this from Chloe - A people downloading machine. You just need fast access to the internet and presto! Your online friend of choice downloads in your living room.
3. A de- and re-materialising machine for whatever work my employers feel I need to do as a secretary, so I might work from home... And for the massive xerox machine at work!
4. An automatic hot chocolate blenderheaterdispenser-thingy. Oh, I got this for Xmas ;)
5. An alarm in the freezer that goes off if the pizza room is empty (as if that would ever happen...)
6. An automatic packed lunch producer! (To prevent this...)
7. A REAL Babel Fish (:

2005 brought:

- return to Greece, at last! The entire family including grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins went to Chania, Crete, at the end of May (here Filip and I are sitting underneath the world's oldest olive tree, 2 500 years old)

- miraculous fall & save for Jakob (see below)

- introduction to blogosphere including new friends - "bluddies" - you know who you are :)

- and a whole lot of other stuff, but these three stand out as I sit here reminiscing...

Four-leaved clovers, horseshoes and ladybirds added up

Easter Saturday we went to see my sister and her family, about an hour's drive from here. It was early spring and the sun was out, so we opted for a trip in the woods.

There were 8 kids altogether, and many of them were up different trees at any given moment. Us grown-ups were seated on a nearby bench (ill. 1). My hubby was on his way over to disentangle one of the quads from some shrubbery when we both saw Jakob, falling. He was about 4 metres above the ground. He seemed to be falling in slow motion although his screaming hit us almost before he fell. And he was falling head first. He landed on his head, the rest of his body seemed to wrap itself around it. He was lying dead still. I felt sick instantly. My hubby was by him in seconds. I was next. I was 100 % sure his neck was broken, and I was searching to see where the blood must surely be pouring out! My hubby carried him over to the bench to stop me from inflicting further damage... Then Jakob spoke - "this is the worst day of my life!" - and I was overjoyed... (My hubby, seeing Jakob land, had been sure he was dead. Luckily he didn't say so until later, I was quite UNcalm as it was!)

Hubby ran to get our car, then changed his mind and called an ambulance. It seemed to take forever to get there - but it did manage to get into the woods where we were! The ambulance personell - two guys - strapped Jakob to a stretcher (ill. 2). In the ambulance, Jakob came to every now and then just to go "aaa" and "aarghghg" and "take this thing off my head"... In the hospital he was x-rayed from every position and through the strapping, then had a full CT (or was it MR? - one of those). Result: nothing broken, nothing wrong. In fact, only a mild concussion!

The following weekend he played in a football [= soccer!] cup with the doc's blessings...

Still I can see him falling when I close my eyes. Still I love the hat (ill. 3) that we made him wear even though he said it was too hot! Still I can't believe the luck he (we!) had when a) he hit a branch on his way down, it slowed him down somewhat and b) he hit turf. 8 inches either way from his landing point was solid rock. Yes, I do believe there is a God!