A short reflection on living and learning

Last night my father-in-law invited EPI and I, and EPI's brother and his wife, out to a lavish dinner at Við Tjörnina*. Just ... because.

I'm such a fan of my father-in-law. When I'm 82 I want to be just like him. Well, maybe not just like him, but similar. He's completely unstoppable. After EPI's mother died a couple of years ago, he could easily have withdrawn and given up, robbed of his raison d'etre [she had Alzheimer's for many years and he took care of her] - but no. A few [difficult] months after her death he announced one day that he was moving out of his condo and into a hotel for a few days so he could have some work done on the place. That burst of energy was just a small sign of things to come. Next he decided to fly to London to buy some material for a bespoke suit, because in his opinion the quality of the stuff they had here wasn't good enough. On his return, he announced that he was throwing a grand party to celebrate his 80th birthday. He rented a hall at one of the better hotels in town, invited about 200 people, and after everyone had eaten and drank and generally had a lovely time, he sent everyone home with a book he'd published - of limericks that he had composed over the years [he's an accomplished writer of poetry and his work has appeared in many publications].

His next undertaking was to start 'collecting islands'. He travelled to Cuba, then Svalbard in Norway, then Greenland. Up next are the Hebrides, this May. When he's not off gallivanting abroad, he's on the go here in Iceland, visiting friends or family, particularly in Akureyri, which was his constituency for many years [he was in politics for almost all of his career]. He follows social and current events with great dedication, and takes part in the discourse by writing articles and sending them to the papers. In short, he engages with life. And while I'm sure his days are not always peachy he never complains or tries to manipulate others into being responsible for his wellbeing. On the contrary, he makes a point of being proactive and staying in touch, even if it's just calling up to say hello for a minute or two. He shows up at any birthday party thrown - children's, grandchildren's, even great-grandchildren's - and does surprising and unexpected things like invite us out for dinner at an expensive restaurant, just ... because.

Truly, I feel so blessed to have EPI's family around me. I have learned so much from them. They are so very different from my own family, with its extensive dysfunction and lack of communication. With EPI's family I get to see how a normal family operates, all the things that are given so freely, that I have never experienced on my own skin. Things that lots of people consider normal, that for me have been such a revelation. No need to cite examples; suffice it to say that in my family everything is just much more ... difficult. Or perhaps just a lot more ... absent.

FROM THE 'COLD PUDDLE', WE NOW SIMPLY HAVE 'THE PUDDLE'
Because it hasn't stopped raining for the last three days. It's great, though - mild temps for the first time in weeks and almost all the snow has melted, which most importantly means that all the ice is gone. In fact, I could very well have been mistaken, but I could have sworn I felt the first whiff of spring in the air today. Temps are currently 5°C [40F] and our sun came up at 9.22 this morning and set at 6.03 this afternoon.

* whose website seems to be out of commission right now.

A short tale about a long night

Yesterday I woke up at 4 am after 2.5 hours of sleep to discover that Daughter was not yet home from the school formal she'd gone to.

It was [is] the major event of the year at her school. Everyone had Thursday and Friday off, and the day began early with a premiere of the school musical at 10 am. After that she went for brunch with her classmates and hung out with them, playing board games, etc. She came home in the late afternoon and got dressed, then I drove her to a restaurant where she was meeting her class for dinner [they invited their teacher out] - then she was going to a party, and then to the dance, which was being held at this venue called Broadway.

She was ridiculously badly dressed, of course - the weather has been appalling here these past couple of days and she had on her new [vintage] sleeveless dress with stiletto pumps and no stockings. I managed to talk her into borrowing my wool coat [she was going to just wear a shawl since she didn't have a proper coat of her own] and held my breath when she made her way precariously to and from the car, as the ground was covered with snow and ice and, well, stiletto pumps don't have a great deal of traction. The dance was due to finish at 3 am and I told her to come straight home, but on the off chance that she went home with her off-and-not-quite-on-again boyfriend to make sure to let me know, and she agreed.

Cut to the part where I wake up at 4 am. I checked my cellphone - no text message. I got up, called her cell. No answer. I sent a message: WHERE ARE YOU??? - then crawled back into bed, waiting for a response. None came. I lay awake for an hour. Got up - called again. No answer. Decided that eating a little something might help me sleep [what a delusion]. Called her phone a couple more times. Got back into bed, closed eyes, tried to stave off images of worst-possible-scenarios that persisted in floating through my head. Like last New Year's Eve, for instance, a 19-year old kid walked home from that very venue alone and was found drowned the next day, having somehow fallen into the Elliðaá river. And in December, the sister of a friend went to a bar in downtown Reykjavík and someone slipped one of those date-rape pills into her beer. She managed to call her boyfriend just before she passed out, and by the time he came to get her, her wallet had been stolen. Need I detail the horrific visions that went through my mind as I lay there at 5.20 am, wide awake, wondering where the hell my daughter was? I think not.

By 6 am I'd realized that lying in bed was the worst possible thing to do [my imagination was running rampant] so I decided I might as well get up and try to work. In between I kept calling, pondering at what point I should contact the police, how I could go about finding out the phone numbers of AAH's friends, and wondering - not for the first time - at what point those poor parents who had lost their son had decided that something was seriously wrong.

Around 6.45 EPI woke up [he'd missed all this] and assumed the voice of reason. There must be a good explanation, he said. She'd stayed over somewhere ['yes, but why didn't she let me know when it was the last thing I asked her to do...' etc.] and anyway, her friends had been with her and would not have let her go anywhere by herself. No, she had not walked home, she couldn't anyway in those shoes. No, she had not been raped in the bathroom ['Yes, but that happened at another school dance...' etc.] and no, she was not passed out in a snowbank from a date-rape pill. She'd probably gone home with her off-and-not-quite-on-again boyfriend ['yes, but they hadn't been getting along, and anyway, why hadn't she let me know like she always did...' etc.]. Back and forth. On and on.

Believe it or not, I did not have the cellphone number of off-and-not-quite-on-again boyfriend, but by 10 am I'd dug it up. Called, and got a groggy OANQOABF on the other end. Yes, AAH was there. He put her on. Sleepy voice. 'Hello?'

You can believe that she received a blast into that pretty little ear of hers. Why the hell had she not answered my calls, what the hell was she thinking not letting me know?? etc. Her phone, she said, was still at Broadway, so she hadn't been able to let me know. Hello!!! Was I not talking to her on a cellphone at that very moment?? Could that very same cellphone not have been used to send one wee text message in the middle of the night? Hm?? - She hadn't wanted to wake me, she said. ARGH!!!

Turns out that a friend of hers had kept her coat-check tag, and the friend had left. So AAH could not retrieve any of her stuff at the end of the night, hence her bag with everything in it, plus my new wool coat, had been left behind. OANQOABF had gallantly provided her with a jacket to throw over her shoulders and had taken her home - to his place. Because she hadn't wanted to disturb us by coming home and ringing the doorbell in the middle of the night [m-hm].

Anyway, it was the night from hell, for as I explained to AAH when I'd finally calmed down enough to address her without shouting, not knowing where your child is is probably the worst thing that can happen to a parent. Most parents, at least. She was, predictably, overcome with remorse, and has given me her solemn vow that she will never, ever pull a stunt like this again. Here's hoping she keeps her word.

IT JUST WILL NOT STOP SNOWING AROUND HERE
Yesterday we had temps above freezing for the first time in ages, and it rained. By late afternoon we had a wicked storm, so bad that EPI was forced to postpone a trip to a cabin with his buddies - they do this every year, bring their guitars and drums and things and have a weekend jam session in between eating lots of putrid food ['tis the season] and drinking lots of alcohol. This morning it started snowing again and temps dropped, so we have ice beneath the freshly-fallen snow which as everyone knows can be très risky. EPI headed out this morning instead, so my concerns about AAH have been replaced with concerns about whether EPI and his friends make it in one piece. Life's a beach. Temps -2°C [28F], sunrise was at 9.45 and sunset due for 5.40 pm.

PS - I expect that later today we shall have the 200,000th visitor to this site. Visitor no. 100,000 got a virtual half-bottle of Lýsi [cod liver oil] and bouquet of roses - what lovely gift shall we bestow on our visitor no 200,000?

A bit of history, a dash of grammar, a pinch of tradition, a swish of serendipity

Got an email from my uncle this evening, assuring me that he had cast his vote for the Weather Report [last chance, everybody!] and also reminding me that I have some pretty significant ties to the captain's quarter noted in the last post. Which, as it happens, I had not forgotten, but had simply omitted because I didn't have a photo of the particular house central to those ties - the house that my great-grandfather built, and where both my father and my uncle were born.

My great-grandfather on my father's side was a sea captain who graduated from the Stýrimannaskóli in 1912. Like all the other sea captains he built a house in the area, on Öldugata, which - if you remember your lesson from last post - means 'wave street' and is a derivative of alda [it's alda in the possessive case, in fact] - as well as being a woman's [given] name.

My great-grandfather named his only daughter Alda [well, Guðrún Alda, actually, but she was always called Alda], which probably says something about his strong ties to the sea. And because it is common here in Iceland to name children after their grandparents, I wound up with the same name as my grandmother - Alda, meaning 'wave'. When I moved back to Iceland nearly 14 years ago, the first apartment I bought was on Bárugata, which - you'll recall - also means 'wave street' and happens to run parallel to 'Öldugata' - 'Alda's street' - where my great-grandfather built his house, and where both my father and my uncle were born. In fact, I looked down on both 'wave streets' from my window - Öldugata from one side of the flat, and Bárugata on the other.

And thus concludes the story of YT's ties to the captain's quarter.

AND AS OF TODAY, I NO LONGER HAVE PERMISSION TO BITCH ABOUT THE WEATHER
Because today totally takes the cake in the miserable weather sweepstakes. It was awful. In fact I decided to white-knuckle it through my endorphin withdrawal today, despite the fact that I was desperate for a run, because the weather was so damn ghastly. What was it, you ask? Blizzard, snowdrift, freezing rain? Hell no, that would have been fun. This was the coldest mutha of a wind we've had for years, a mean wind that blew through in violent spasms and just sounded bad. There was not a single bit of humour in the weather today - it was just nasty. Right now we have -8°C but feels like -18, and that's 18F and feels like 0°F. [Yeah yeah, I know you have it worse in Minnesota, and believe me, I sympathize!] Sunup today 10.13 am, sunset 5.10 pm.

PS in case anyone is interested in knowing where this captain's quarter and environs are located, here's a map.

YT passes on the shark and feeds EPI tulips instead

I have my favicon back, HUZZAH!! Look! Up next to the web address.

OK, now that that's sorted, I can finally get back to relating the inane details of my daily life.

So yesterday was feed-your-man-putrid-shark day here in Niceland, also known as bóndadagur, or 'man of the house day'. It's the day when women are supposed to go out and buy rotten food for their husbands or boyfriends or partners, and bring it home along with a bouquet of tulips. Actually, I didn't know about the tulip thing until yesterday, when I went to Hagkaup to pick up some lamb filets and lobster tails for dinner [note that I didn't buy any putrid shark because I'm civilized] and I noticed that all the pails that had previously contained tulips were empty [except for a couple of bouquets with pink tulips] whereas all the pails containing roses were full. Hm, thought I, and continued on my merry way, until a few minutes later when I noticed a swarm of women descending on the flower pails. Naturally I had to investigate and promptly discovered that the reason for the commotion was that the tulip pails were being filled and the women were virtually trampling all over each other trying to get at them.

Which is when I realized: I was supposed to bring EPI tulips and I didn't even know. Damn! How had he put up with me all those years? Tulipless?? I snatched a bouquet quick as a flash, and triumphantly delivered it to an overjoyed EPI a few minutes later.

Dinner was excellent, and EPI didn't miss the rotten food at all. Because, well, he had tulips. And an excellent bottle of red wine. And YT doting on him for the entire evening. At least up to the point where I just had to put on an episode of Grey's Anatomy because I was getting serious withdrawal symptoms [have I mentioned my recent Grey's Anatomy obsession? Dampened only by my annoyance that Derek and Meredith - Merde-ith - are taking the whole damn second season to get it on? Sheesh, why can't he just accept that he really loves her and be done with it, already!*] at which point EPI made himself scarce because if there's one thing that EPI cannot stand it is hospital dramas. And thus ended our 'man around the house day', with YT flaked out on the sofa watching Grey's Anatomy with AAH, eating Ben and Jerry's New York Fudge Chunk ice cream, and EPI in his play room, strumming his guitar.

WEATHERMAN SEZ WE'RE IN FOR A STORM
A nasty, wet-weather storm, that will undoubtedly turn our winter wonderland to slush. Winds are going to be up to 30 m/s tomorrow. Today was overcast, with hardly any wind which made it excellent for skiing. And, as promised, pictures. Sunrise/sunset same as below.

* Please, nobody feed me any spoilers!

And she doesn't even hang out with a bad crowd

AAH went to a party Friday night, at some kid's house in what she calls austurborgin [eastern part of the city] but which is more like around Grettisgata. While there, her purse was stolen. She'd stashed it in the kid's bedroom and even made sure to have it out of the way, so it wasn't obvious. It contained her wallet with her debit card, cell phone, iPod video, all her makeup, a new blouse she'd just bought that day, her keys [meaning we had to change the locks yesterday], her friend's brand-new cell phone, and an assortment of other stuff.

A similar thing happened a couple of years ago: she put her brand-new iPod down somewhere at a party and when she went back for it, it was gone, never to be found again.

I am officially appalled. When the hell did teenagers become so depraved?

IT'S SNOWING RIGHT NOW
Blustery and a chilly, with a sprinkling of the white stuff on the ground. Always a pleasure. Incidentally, went out to a movie this evening - Persepolis - absolutely great. Funny, intelligent, sassy and smart. It's based on a graphic novel about a girl growing up in Iran amidst social upheaval, revolution, war, extremism. A born rebel, her parents send her to Europe because she can't keep her mouth shut and they fear for her safety. I'll say no more [partly because the plot doesn't begin to do justice to the scope of the film], just - if you get a chance, see it. Current temps -1°C and feels like -6°C with the blustery wind [30F, feels like 21]. Sun came up at 11 and set at 4.02 pm.

And you thought you had problems

EPI: I need a new razor.
YT: Yeah?
EPI: Yeah, but it's so annoying ...
YT: What's annoying?
EPI: I've been looking around and I can't find a decent razor any more. It's like all the razors have gone all feminine, with curves [makes hourglass shape with hands in a disdainful manner] and pink or green things on the handles. It's ridiculous.
YT: Oh. And what kind of razor do you want?
EPI: You know, just a plain, steel razor. Just a good solid razor. But all I find now is, like, razors with vibrators on the end ........ what?
YT: Oh, it's so hard being you.

NICELAND WEATHER
Lest we forget what this blog is really about ... great day today. Frosty temps [just below freezing] but no windchill, hence beautiful. I had to go out on a little errand today and decided to wash the car while I was out ... incidentally, do you have the sorts of car washes where you spray your car with tar remover, then rinse it off with water, then lather it up with soap, then rinse it off with water, then spray wax all over it? No? Infinitely more satisfying than the drive-through car washes. - Why I am telling you this? I do not know. Temps currently -2°C [28F] and our sun came up at 11.02 and set at 4.09 pm.

PS. Can anyone tell me why my Flickr badge is not working??

At the pearly gates

Poor AAH: just when the pressure is on, all her Christmas prezzies still to be bought, and she's scheduled to work back-to-back shifts, she comes down with a case of food poisoning.

She believes a certain Ceasar salad is to blame, eaten at a certain cafe where she works. The day yesterday was alternately spent puking and screaming at the top of her lungs at the pain in her stomach; I wonder what the neighbours think. Probably that she was in labour, because that is about the only thing with which I can equate those screams. Well, that and having her fingernails pulled out slowly with pliers.

Today was slightly better, although she's still walking around hunched over like an old crone. Nonetheless, she managed to surface from her predicament long enough to tell me a joke [what a trouper!]:

These three guys are at the pearly gates, waiting to be admitted into heaven. Saint Peter tells them that, because it's Christmas, they have to have something on them relating to Christmas before he can admit them in.

So the first guy pulls out his lighter, and says, "This lighter represents the light of Christmas."

St. Peter says, "OK, you're in."

The second guy pulls out his keys and says, "These keys jingle like jingle bells."

St. Peter says, "OK, you're in."

The third guy pulls out a pair of women's panties, and says, "These are Carol's."

GORGEOUS DAY, CALM AND COOL
We had some hail this afternoon, enough to turn the ground white. Headed downtown today and everyone was in the Yuletide spirit. Ah, it's nice. Temps right now are -1°C [30F] and sunrise was at 11.22, sunset at 3.30 pm.

Getting the Yule on

Today I spent a full ten minutes in my local fish shop and when I got home I was forced to put every item of clothing I was wearing in the washing machine. Reason? Putrid skate day is coming up, and they had a handsome selection of raw pieces already in stock.

Dear readers, this blog has not been very heavy on the Yule lately, and those of you who have been reading alongtime may be asking yourselves where all the posts about the Yule Lads and Grýla and the Yule Cat are, whilst secretly wondering whether our YT is making only a halfhearted attempt at getting her Yule on this year. To which the answer is, not to worry, we're getting our Yule on as usual, only when you've blogged about those crafty Yule Lads for three years in a row you get a wee bit weary because, let's face it, there's only so much that you can say about them, especially when you don't have little kids any more that totally believe that there's a new Yule Lad that comes down from the mountains every night and deposits a little gift in their shoe, not to mention writes them letters in Old English font.

In three more days it will be Christmas up here [we celebrate on the 24th] and, as a matter of fact, our particular Christmas starts a day early, on the 23rd, because that's when YT celebrates her birthday, so everything has to be done before then. The more astute amongst you may recall that YT's birthday happens to coincide with putrid skate day, and that for the last few years YT and EPI have been invited to a rancid skate party at EPI's brother and sister-in-law's place. Only they had the nerve to move to Selfoss earlier this year [boo!] so there shall be no rancid skate party this year. And before you ask, no, I'm certainly not going to throw one at our place because when you throw a rancid skate party every last object in the house becomes permeated with the smell which can only be described as a cross between ammonia and cat piss. Multiplied by about 1010. Right before the holiest of all holy days. I may be crazy, but I'm not insane.

OK. Let's see. We've already done the Yule buffet, we've been to The Virgin, we've been to the Yule party at my father's place for all the kids and grandkids. I've bought all the Christmas prezzies that I need to buy [I may have to assist EPI and AAH a bit tomorrow and the next day], and today we went out and did most of the grocery shopping for Christmas dinner and my birthday. Plus last night EPI and I went out and bought our Christmas tree from the charity in support of children with cancer. It's sitting out on the balcony as we speak, because the tradition here is that the tree doesn't go up until the 23rd [in our case the 22nd, for reasons above]. The only thing I haven't done is bought myself any Yule Cat insurance [unless a pair of nylons count] because, quite frankly, I can't be bothered to go out and buy myself a new Christmas dress when I have a perfectly good one that I bought last year and which I've only used, like, twice since then.

OK, the truth is I've developed a sudden fierce allergy to shopping malls and fitting rooms. The other day I went to Kringlan for the first time in months and within 20 minutes felt like I'd had all the lifeblood sucked out of me and was ready to crawl beneath the nearest clothing rack in a foetal position and just lie there until I was beamed up to the nearest Galactic spaceship. I took it as a sign to get the hell out of there, and to not go back until the hordes have left. Besides, the rampant consumerism makes me ill, as I alluded to in a previous post. I've never felt it quite this strongly before, but I certainly do now, and I'm sure it has something to do with some rather eye-opening, and perhaps even life-changing, experiences I've had recently [more on that later, perhaps].

I think I'll leave you with a little story that I heard from my half-sister the other day. She has two boys [and a wee baby girl] and the younger of the boys [who is three] is just getting his head around the whole Yule Lad concept. However, he hadn't quite figured out what it means when you get a potato in your shoe [it means you've been bad and it's a Very Serious Matter] and when the first Yule Lad arrived this year, both he and his brother got a potato because they'd been naughty the previous day. However, he happens to like potatoes, so he came running out to his mom, all excited, and asked: "Can you help me peel it?" [D'oh!]

IT'S BEEN OVERCAST AND WERY WERY DARK TODAY
So believe me, I was grateful for my HappyLight™, which was on duty the entire time I spent at home. Although, to be honest, I'm not perfectly sure whether it's making a difference, or if it's all in my head. I mean, I think I have fewer SAD symptoms, but I'm still pretty tired and stuff, and it's hard to get up in the mornings [although it might help if I went to bed at a decent hour, and not at, say, 2 am]. I'm not depressed or anything, though, and my concentration is back up to speed, so ... maybe. maybe. Currently 8°C [46F], the sun came up at 11.21 and went down at 3.29 pm. Winter solstice tomorrow! Huzzah!

We're not making nuclear warheads in here, honest

Bye bye SAD
.

So, EPI went out yesterday and came back with a SAD light. Fired it up and instantly the place was filled with the light of a million suns ... made me want to strip down and lie right in the middle of the kitchen floor for a spot of tanning. However I wondered what the neighbours would think – not about the nudity, but about the light. Through the window I'm sure our place looks like the inside of a nuclear reactor.

Be that as it may, we have high hopes for our new EnergyLight™. No later than by the end of this week I expect to be as perky as the model on the box, replete with perfect hair and straight rows of pearly whites. I turned it on this morning as I sat working at the kitchen table and … well … SADly I feel no discernable difference. In fact I've been schlepping my ass through the Gegend [one for you, my dear German readers] for the better part of the day, all haggard complexion and bleary eyes. Clinging to the hope that the effects won’t show up until later. Sort of like taking LÝSI.

Anyway, I did manage to complete the first phase of Operation Sara Bernhard cookies this evening AND make a batch of homemade müsli, so perhaps I’m underestimating the Power of the Light. Or not – I’m completely wasted right now and feeling like I’ve run a ten-hour marathon. My bed beckons. Ta!

JUST A FEW WORDS ABOUT THE WEATHER BEFORE I GO
It’s extremely dramatic right now – a real-live tempest, with sheets of heavy-duty rain just pummeling the windowpane. All hell has broken loose according to mbl.is – they’ve got rescue squads out all over the capital area. Roofing has blown off, cars have blown over, scaffolding and flagpoles have broken loose, in one place a barbecue went through a window and a camper was pulverized. Welcome to Niceland! Temps 4°C [39F], sunrise was at 11.06 and sunset at 3.34 pm.

It's beginning to look a lot like ... you know what

We're starting to gear up for Christmas around here, albeit slowly. Whereas the windows in surrounding buildings are all lit up with coloured lights, the most I've managed in terms of decorating so far is hanging up my little red lantern bought at IKEA a couple of years ago. Very soon I shall get around to descending the two sets of stairs down to the basement to fetch the Advent lights. Very soon. At the same time I shall undoubtedly fetch the stuff to make the Advent wreath with the four candles on, one to be lit each Sunday during the time leading up to Christmas. It's all there, I just haven't made the time to go down and get it. Because, you know, it's awfully far, and there might even be some stuff that needs to be moved out of the way first.

BUT I can tell you that this evening I made my second annual [i.e. since it became a tradition last year] English fruitcake, with real dried fruit that was made to soak in liquor since last night. Never mind that we have [as I remarked to EPI earlier] half a Daim cake in the freezer, half a cheesecake in the fridge, and almost a whole layer cake sitting on the kitchen counter. Cakes that nobody seems to show a particular interest in eating. After all, sweet things have an inexplicably long lifetime in this household - my darling stepdaughters have given up bringing us chocolates from the Duty Free when they go abroad because they inevitably find them here, uneaten, months later. The joke around here is that we only eat candy that is past the expiration date. But I digress.

Baking during the lead-up to Christmas is considered a virtue among Icelandic women, even though today they sort of claim to poo-pooh the tradition, as in, "Oh, I can never be bothered to bake cookies before Christmas, that's what bakeries are for," while secretly feeling terribly inadequate that their neighbour has managed to bake two or three varieties. YT has to bake at least one variety before Christmas to feel up to par, namely the sinfully delicious Sara Bernhard cookies [which really counts as two varieties because they're so damn difficult to make]. For those of you who are unacquainted with Sara Bernhards they're comprised of a crunchy base made from egg whites, ground almonds and icing sugar, baked in the oven, a creamy filling made from butter, egg yolks, sugar and cocoa [cholesterol alert!], and topped with melted dark chocolate that can neither be too runny when applied [it will run right off the creamy filling] nor too stiff [it won't apply properly]. This is a seriously tricky operation, believe me, but worth it in the end because these cookies are orgasmic. And I use that adjective with discretion. Actually, make that orgasmic with a capital 'O' [ladies: think 'ovulation'].

OKAY, MOVING RIGHT ALONG
Here is a picture of what our milk cartons look like these days. Look familiar? That's right: it's those crafty old Yule Lads being featured on those cartons, in anticipation of their arrival to town in about a week's time. Yowsa. And it will be time to dig out all of AAH's old letters again to look at. Aw. Meanwhile we've weathered another storm and it's currently raining and mild. Temps 3°C [37F] and sunrise was at 10.52 [no, really] and sunset at 3.42 pm.

Retort of the day

"OK, let me just be perfectly clear about one thing: if there is anything that makes me less inclined to study, it is nagging."

- Young AAH sets some firm boundaries with her mother, who feels she should be studying for exams rather than playing SIMS.

AND WHAT ABOUT THE WEATHER?
Started off nasty and windy and cold, but then the wind died down and the sun came out and it became beautiful and cold. I showed unbelievable restraint [no, really] and did not go out for a run in the sub-zero temps, because Dr. Dave has me all scared that I'll have a heart attack if I do [I still have the residuals of a cold]. Instead I walked very quickly from the Grótta lighthouse, around the golf course and back again. Here's a picture of some lichen on a stone that I took along the way:

It was high noon, but as you see if you look closely the shadows are pretty long, because the sun only manages a limited crawl up in the sky before it gives up and heads back down again. And yet it is so bright, the light almost blinding. Temps at the moment are -4°C [27F] and sunrise was at 10.50, sunset at 3.44 pm.

Almost flown

Last night, before going out to a concert, I said goodbye to AAH more or less for the duration of the weekend. She was going out with her boyfriend, was going to stay over at his place, then going straight to work today, then straight to meeting her friends for dinner. By the time she gets home I’ll be at the National Theatre watching a play, and I expect she’ll stay over at her bf’s again tonight. Then to work again tomorrow ... so I’ll probably not see her until tomorrow evening.

It has been the same situation for the last several weekends. Waking up in the morning to find her bedroom door open, and her bed unslept in. EPI and I having breakfast à deux. It’s weird. A natural transition – but still weird.

When AAH was around one years old, her father and I split up after a brief but valiant effort at living together. It was a tough time; I was more than a little lost, living in Germany, and having a baby hadn’t exactly been on the agenda. After we went our separate ways, her father moved back to the US where he was from and effectively disappeared from our lives for the next 11 years. I had no family nearby, hadn’t lived in Iceland since I was a child, and had been away from Canada too long to be able to return [my immigration status expired after six months away]. My mother, by then a Canadian citizen, refused to help me by sponsoring me back to the country that had formed me; I had no work, no support, little money, and a child to take care of.

In the letter that my mother wrote me, she urged me to, “... return to Iceland, the only country to which you have any claim” [where I was to “work on overcoming [my] two deadly sins: pride and arrogance” – but that’s another story]. The prospect of returning to Iceland terrified me; however in the end it’s what I did. There’s not been a single day in which I’ve regretted making that decision, even though it was incredibly tough going at first, for many different reasons. [Actually, that decision wasn’t really mine – in hindsight I see that it was really made for me, one of the many blessings in my life.] Assimilating into Icelandic society as an outsider is incredibly tough, as anyone who’s done so will attest to, and being alone with a child meant that I was socially isolated. The family members I had here were all entrenched in their lives and we were more or less strangers to each other. It was very hard for me to ask for help, so I avoided doing so at all costs, unless I absolutely had to.

Even so, I had the wherewithal to recognize that being with a small child 24/7 and never having a break was harmful both to me and the child, so I negotiated a deal with my father that he and his family would look after AAH for one weekend a month, so I could have a bit of time to myself – to sleep late, if nothing else. Around this time I met EPI, and those weekends in the early stages of our courtship became unbelievably precious. Every single moment was treasured and used to the fullest. On Fridays we’d normally meet up after work, buy something for dinner then go home to cook together, and if we were up to it, go out later for a drink somewhere. Saturdays we’d sleep late, have breakfast, maybe go to the swimming pool, then to a movie – sometimes even two movies in a row in one evening [we like movies]. By Sunday afternoon it would be time to welcome AAH back home.

This morning at breakfast I started reminiscing to EPI about that time. I remember how, back then, it felt to me like things would never change, that life would always be hard. It seems so distant now, and yet time has passed so quickly so it's almost like yesterday. AAH is practically all grown up, and it's hard to know where the time went. EPI and I have breakfast by ourselves on weekends and it’s no longer a luxury but a natural development. And life is no longer hard all the time. Only sometimes.

WE’VE WEATHERED OUR TWO-DAY STORM
Although it’s still windy and pretty cold. I’m still afflicted with this icky cold and as you can tell I’m getting all morose and reflective in absence of my endorphin fix. Temps are –3°C at the moment [27F]. Sunrise this morning was at 10.44 and sunset at 3.48 pm. – Incidentally! It’s a Big Day for Niceland today, being the anniversary of the day we were awarded Home Rule from Denmark, back in 1918.

Mancolds and girliecolds

I've done d*ck all today as far as work goes and am feeling semi-guilty about it. In fact, I've done very little else than surf t'Internet like a zombie. My excuse is that I've got a cold. Sound plausible enough?

It's AAH's fault. She spent all of last week at home with a cold and low-grade fever. Triumphantly I used this as an excuse to drive home the points that I can never stress enough, namely: a) she doesn't get enough sleep, b) she doesn't eat well enough, c) she doesn't dress warmly enough. Hence she's sick. If only she did as her mother tells her to do she wouldn't be in this mess, andsoonandsoforth.

I, on the other hand, follow my own advice in all of the above, virtually to a fault. So why am I sick? Does that mean my clever arguments don't hold water?*

Meanwhile, EPI has just arrived home from work early on his bike, clad in his superduper neon cycling outfit that he bought in Brooklyn. He staggered in holding his head, complaining of severe chills and the worst headache in the world - so bad, in fact, that he managed to forget his keys and his cell phone on his desk at work [he's just taken the car to go get them].

In other words, EPI and I are both sick, only EPI has a mancold so he's automatically sicker.

EXCITING NEW UPDATE! - Ladies and Gents: I give you The Mancold Video. [Thanks Cat!]

THE WEATHER IS REALLY NICE, THOUGH
And despite having had the mutha of all sore throats last night I went out for a walk to the grocery store [because I only have a girliecold]. Plus I know I'd feel a helluva lot worse if I stayed inside. The riskiest thing about going out, though, was the ice on the streets - it's been like that for two days now and apparently the ER at the National Hospital was overrun yesterday with people who had crashed and broken something or other. Without checking I'd say it's hovering around the freezing mark at the moment ....................... wrong, it's actually a balmy 3°C [37F] and the sun came up at 10.36 am, and set a few minutes ago at 3.54 pm.

* Negative, because I don't have a fever.

Polly has the day from hell

Poor Polly the cockatiel had a rough day yesterday.

It started off fine – she emerged from her cage, flew down to the floor, ran into the kitchen, picked at the broccoli I set out for her on the paper towel while I ate breakfast, and then when I settled in with the laptop at the kitchen table, planted herself on top of my foot for a little relaxation.

It was about an hour later that Polly’s foot accidentally got caught under the leg of the chair, just as I was sitting down.

She screeched, of course – loudly – and I just about had a heart attack, knowing I might have crushed her toe. Polly ran around like crazy for a few minutes while I crouched down and tried to get a good look at her foot, which she seemed to be applying as normal, much to my relief.

It wasn’t until about fifteen minutes later, when she started running around madly again [after stopping briefly] and wanting to go into her cage*, that I started to think that something might be wrong. On closer inspection I saw that her foot was bleeding rather heavily and there was something stuck to it, which was freaking her out and making her run around like that [like she does if she gets a piece of string wrapped around it, say].

Eventually I was able to pick her up on my finger and spray some water on the wound to remove the dust or whatever it was that was stuck to it, but her foot was swollen and burning up and she was favouring it quite dramatically. And I felt awful – there are few things that get me down as much as seeing an animal suffer.

So I called the vet** who told me to wait a while, and to call again if it didn’t get any better. It didn’t. I called again and was told to bring her in for inspection. By this time it was around 3 pm and she was completely wiped out, poor thing – perched pitifully on a wicker basket in the bathroom and looking decidedly out of it, like she was in a state of shock. The vet is quite a distance away and Polly was required to make the trip in the little handbag-sized travel cage we have for that purpose, which is almost inevitably the cause of extreme stress for the poor thing – not exactly what she needed after an ordeal like she’d already been through. However – clearly she was so exhausted from the whole business that she just sort of continued to perch pitifully inside the cage, all the way to the vet’s, which took an even longer time than usual since it was rush hour.

The vet confirmed my suspicions – Polly had lost a claw. However, in other respects she’d been incredibly lucky – a few more millimetres and it would have been her whole foot crushed.

I know what you’re thinking – it’s a poor idea [to say the least] to have her running around on the floor like that. But quite frankly, she’s grown accustomed to being out of her cage and we’re completely soft – she starts flipping out inside her cage, running back and forth and screeching, and we just don’t have the heart to keep it closed. And we have to clip her wings, otherwise she’d be up on all the cupboards or – worse – flying out through the windows. So the floor is her only option.

WE’VE HAD COOL WEATHER TODAY
Cool, as in ‘groovy’. What I mean is, it was absolutely calm and very wet, the trees were perfectly still with drops hanging off them and the moss on the concrete fences you find in this neighbourhood was so soggy and vivid. Quite surreal, actually. Like something out of a Tim Burton movie. It was mild, too; right now it’s 4°C [39F] and sunrise was at 9:35 am, sunset at 4.46 pm.

* The wanting to go into her cage reaction was interesting, because she made a beeline for her hazelnuts, like she was checking to see if they were OK. It’s like she sensed a catastrophe happening, and the first thing she thought of was protecting her cherished adopted babies. Aw!

** We actually take her to a veterinary clinic, where there are several vets and they’re all so wonderful – caring, gentle, just radiating kindness. Every time I go there I leave on a pink cloud – the purpose of my visit notwithstanding. Those vets should be canonized.

More on raising the vagabond

Apropos the last post, I have to say I find it interesting to hear about curfews in other parts of the world, from which I glean that teenagers elsewhere are generally not permitted to stay out as late as they are here.

I'd like to be able to say that this is because Iceland is much safer than Everywhere Else, but alas, I fear that is not so, at least not any more. A few years ago I would not have worried so much about AAH walking alone at night - or, indeed, about walking alone at night, myself - but I certainly do now, and she has strict instructions not to. In fact, one of the cardinal rules in her staying out so late is that she either walk home with a group of people, or take a taxi. And under no circumstances is she to be hanging around downtown, or anywhere outside.

That said, parents of Icelandic teens seem to be very lenient as a rule. Some of AAH's friends have curfews, but many do not - or they do, but stay out pretty much as late as they want, anyway, since their parents don't seem to monitor their comings and goings. This seems to jibe with child-rearing here in general, which leans towards giving kids a lot of freedom. The upside is that it produces children who are independent and self-sufficient, the downside of course is that it produces neglect.

As for YT, lest I give the impression that AAH got off scot-free after last weekend's vanishing act, let me assure you that she did not. We had a Serious Talk and she was made well aware of her mother's feelings on the subject, including my anger at the fact that she deliberately deceived us. However, through a lot of trial and error in the last couple of years I've come to the conclusion that turning the house into a silent war zone is not the best tactic to employ when it comes to raising the teenager, and that at age 16 it is hard to apply the same strategy as was applied at age 13 or 14 [removal of computer and other privileges, etc.]. Put simply, I've come to realize that I can't chain her down. If she's intent on staying out all night, she'll stay out all night, and I'm much better off appealing to her [thankfully considerable] common sense and desire to cooperate than I am laying down laws and imposing punitive measures. Although, I hasten to add, there are limits to what I will accept.

Also, there's a slight complicating factor in this equation: as soon as AAH turned 16, went into upper secondary school [senior high] and felt grown up enough to insist on staying out all night, I sort of ran into a wall with my child-raising tactics. Why? Because I had no frame of reference from my own experience. When I was the same age as she is now, I was already living on my own and had no one to impose curfews or monitor what time I came home. It kind of boggles my mind. But that's how it goes - we draw on our own experiences in everything, and deviating from what we have come to know and forging new paths is the hardest thing to do. We're creatures of habit, often to a greater extent than we think.

STARING OUT THE WINDOW, HOPING THE WIND WILL SUBSIDE
I'm desperate for a run, but am not relishing a struggle. It was very windy in the night and is still around 15-18 m/s but the weatherman sez it should die down this afternoon so I'm hanging on, hoping he keeps his promise. The sun has just come out which is always a delight [particularly during SAD season] and current temps are 7°C [45F]. The sun came up at 9.25 this morning and will set at - yikes! - 4.56 pm.

Some tricks just never go out of style

There's been occasional family discord around here of late over the curfew for the resident princess. See, there's that weeeee discrepancy between the time AAH feels she should come home on weekends [4-5 am] and the time her mother feels she should come home on weekends [2 am].

It's not an easy situation. In fact it requires such absolute finesse in negotiating that I bet I could be called out on a terrorist hijacking right now and would get all the hostages freed without a scratch. Seriously. If anyone out there knows of such a situation, especially if it's in an absolute deadlock, just email me. It's no problem.

Anyway, Friday night, AAH was going out and I said, 'Come home at 2' and she said, '3'. And I said, '2'. And she said, '3'. And I said, 'Okay but then you have to be home at 3 on the dot and you must phone a cab at 2.'* And she said, 'deal'.

So I drove her to where she was going and as she was getting out of the car I said, 'When you gonna phone the cab?' and she said, '2'. Very Good.

So EPI and I go to bed around 1.30 and leave the light on in the kitchen, and at 4 I wake up and go out into the hall and notice the light has been turned off. I check the front door to make sure it's locked, then I check AAH's room to make sure she's in there sleeping happily on her green ear.** And her door's locked. Which is not uncommon during the day, but it's something I've insisted she not do at night, just in case something happened. But I didn't think much of it, just that she'd locked it by accident, or something.

So morning rolls around and I get up and start getting ready for my translating course at the University. But oops - the hairdryer is not in the bathroom, it's in AAH's room, and I need it. So I go check the door again and it's still locked. I knock, gently. No response. I knock harder. No response. I knock and call her name: 'AAH!' No response.

And, you know, I'm starting to think things.

So I go fetch a krona to open the door [because they've put this safety unlocking device on the doorknob for parents who are in situations just like this one] and what do I find but an empty bed, that clearly has not been slept in all night.

And all I will say is, it's a damn good thing I know all about having a mad, intense, wonderful crush on someone, because if I didn't, AAH would be in a whole lot of serious trouble right now.

THERE'S NOTHING BUT WIND WIND WIND
It's been like this for days now with hardly any respite, and frankly I'm getting quite sick of it. Wind is such a colossal pain around here. It brings the temps down and makes it hard to go for a run. Bleh. Currently 5°C [41], and the sun came up at 9.19 and set at 5.02.

* Because the most common excuse for coming home late is 'I couldn't get a cab'.
** Nicelandic idiom.

Polly rocks

Sigh. Despite our best efforts with hazelnuts, it looks as though Polly the cockatiel is not having any of it and has decided to proceed with her egg-laying plans as usual.

She’s had a total of three hazelnuts for several weeks now and has laid on them dutifully. Her routine has gone something like this: wake up in the morning, leave the cage to take a poop [so as to not sully her precious nesting area], pick at some fresh veggies laid out on a paper towel on the floor while YT eats breakfast [birds feed in flocks, so whenever any one of us sits down at the kitchen table to eat, Polly must eat at the same time], then pace around my feet restlessly, peeping occasionally, until I relent and pick her up and spend a few minutes scratching her head. Once I’ve done that, she’s ready to return to her cage to spend the better part of the day dozing on the bottom of her cage with her brood of hazelnuts tucked beneath her.

I’ve always just assumed that she was sleeping – until the other day when I had to forcibly evict her from the cage in the midst of a hatching session. I picked her up on my index finger and was amazed at the heat coming from her – obviously she’s generating energy equivalent to a small furnace, all for the purpose of getting those wee barren nuts to hatch.

It’s very sad, I know. What’s ever sadder, though, is seeing our Polly like this – which is inevitably what happens when she tries to produce her own eggs, which I fear is imminent. A few days ago she started acting all broody again and I began to think that maybe I should smuggle in another nut baby, just to make her think she’d actually managed to get laid, you know, and had miraculously produced a baby while she wasn’t looking. But I didn’t – and this evening she was pretty much set on the bottom of the cage and making those vague rocking movements that indicate that the time is nigh.

With any luck she’ll be satisfied just adding one more to her brood – cockatiels normally lay three to five eggs per clutch, and if she produces an egg now I’ll surreptitiously slip in a fourth hazelnut sometime in the next few days, to bring the total to five. Although it’s all touch-and-go at the moment; she may very well reject her surrogates in favour of the real deal. Time will tell.

WE’VE HAD A BLAST OF WINTER THESE PAST FEW DAYS
The ground has actually been covered in snow and it’s been windy and quite nasty cold. This morning, for instance, we had temps around zero C, wind and flurries, which brought the temps down to well below freezing. I went out for a walk to the bakery and wore a wool insulator and my Icelandic sweater underneath a windproof jacket, which was just perfect – you really can’t go wrong here with Icelandic wool and windproof outer shells. Anyway, it warmed up as the day wore on but the wind remained, so we had horizontal rain. It’s dark in the mornings now and lemme tell you, it takes Herculean effort to get out of bed. Particularly for the likes of YT who has the luxury of working from home and therefore doesn’t have to be anywhere at any particular time. It’s a good thing I’m self-disciplined by nature, otherwise I’d be a bag lady by now. Temps currently 7°C [45F] but with the windchill it feels like 1°C. The sun came up at 9.03 this morning and set at 5.18 pm.

Nosepicking: the national epidemic

So EPI goes into an unnamed supermarket today at lunchtime to buy some hot food. Behind the meat counter there’s a bunch of guys standing around, and one of them was blithely exploring the inside of his nasal cavity with his finger.

Needless to say, EPI had a 1944* instead.

BUT THE WEATHER WAS EXCELLENT
Really quite a lovely autumn day. Started off really bright but then a thin cloud cover moved in and dampened everything, although for some reason it still felt sunny – it was just that kind of a day, I guess. A bright kind of day. Did some work, went out for a run, had lunch, met with a client, came home and had coffee with my neighbour who had the day off and was at home with her baby boy. AAH came home and announced that she wasn’t going to her vocal academy classes today because she had way too much homework, then proceeded to go into her room and fall asleep for three hours because she’s wiped out from the weekend, which she spent alternately partying and working. Good to see the girl has her priorities straight. Did some more work, then fell asleep myself [not because I’m wiped out from too much partying, though], then EPI came home and we had dinner. – What? You think this blog is about the weather? You should know better by now. Current temps 7°C [45F] and sunrise was at 7:56 am, sunset at 6:33.

* 1944: prepared meal.

Refugee

The other night, EPI told me a completely absorbing story about one of his cousins. His mother, EPI's aunt, was quite young when she had him, so the cousin - we'll call him J - spent a lot of time with other relatives, particularly his maternal grandparents.

J's mother eventually went abroad to study and met a man [Icelandic] while there ... they fell in love and when they came back to Iceland, they set up house and the new man adopted J formally. From that point on he made J's life hell. During J's late childhood and early adolescense he inflicted serious psychological abuse, systematically undermining J's self-esteem and confidence until he was an emotional wreck and displaying seriously harmful behavior towards himself.

At that point, one of EPI's other aunts intervened. Clearly a remarkable woman [in more ways than one], she saw what was happening and instead of turning a blind eye or denying what was going on within the family, she put her foot down and announced that J would now come and live with her. Which he did. Almost immediately, he turned himself around, started showing an interest in learning, found a new enthusiasm for life, and eventually went to live in the US, where his cousin - son of the aunt who adopted him - was living.

He hasn't moved back since. He's made a good life for himself in the States, is successful, and sometimes comes to Iceland for visits - but he has never wanted to return permanently. He's become an American citizen and has even changed his name so there's not a vestige left of his Icelandic identity, except to those who know him well.

EPI thinks this is kind of strange. I absolutely do not. I totally get it.

AND THE WEATHER IS ...
It kept threatening to rain this morning, with odd bouts of drizzle that stopped pretty much as soon as they started. In between, the weather was fantastic - sunny with just a slight breeze, and a hint of a chill in the air to remind us that we're well into September. I went for a run along the sea and it was beautiful - then I went for physio followed by a dip in the hot pot at the Laugardalslaug pool - and it was still beautiful. Right now it's 9°C [48F] and sunrise was at 6:38 am, sunset at 8:09 pm.

Incidentally - the best thing I heard today was about all the people worldwide who have pledged to make September 11 a day of good deeds. What a wonderful display of good triumphing over evil!

Prep school princess

School’s in again, and this year AAH moved up a level. Here in Niceland, compulsory education ends at the age of sixteen, which corresponds to the end of elementary school. From then on, most kids move on to framhaldsskóli [upper secondary school] which is like a senior high school and lasts four years. It ends with a stúdentspróf, or high school equivalent [A-levels in the UK]. The other option is a trade or technical college – or no school at all.

Before going into a framhaldsskóli, kids have to pass standardized national exams. There’s usually a lot of competition for the top schools and the popular ones tend to go in and out of fashion – one year a particular school may be trendy, another year it will be another. Schools pick and choose their students and obviously the most in-demand ones are the most selective.

This year, the school with the most applications also happened to be the only true-blue prep school in the country, i.e. the only private upper-secondary school and also the only one that charges tuition fees. AAH, who has notoriously expensive taste, went for a visit there at the end of last school year and came home with stars in her eyes. The facilities were so gleaming new and shiny, the best of everything, and oh – it was all just so perfect. She completely set her sights on getting in – if she didn’t get accepted, she said, there was no point in her going to school at all. She’d just drop out and work. [She has a flair for the dramatic – what can I say?]

Anyway, she just scraped by on her grades – and in fact by the latest accounts hers were even slightly lower than the average, so the fact that she was accepted is a bit puzzling. I suspect it had something to do with her stellar turn in West Side Story a couple of years ago [and also a glowing recommendation from her former vice-principal, who adored her]. The prep school is renowned for its lavish annual musical productions … it’s well-known that they have the dosh to put on shows without having to cut any corners, and the fact that AAH has proven to have an aptitude in that area probably didn’t hurt.

Anyway, there’s a lot of money floating around the place – in fact it’s become one of the bastions of the Icelandic elite, which sadly is becoming more and more evident as the wage gap widens in this country. Predictably, there are stringent requirements for spending. In addition to the tuition fees, which are substantially higher even than the annual ‘registration’ fees at the University of Iceland, there appears to be no restraint when it comes to assigning textbooks, all of which must be purchased. This week so far the bill for books alone has come to ISK 40,000 [USD 616 / GBP 308], even though the majority were bought used and there’s still a handful outstanding on the list. [Meanwhile, the girl in the bookshop told us that she’d had to purchase books for ISK 8,500 (USD 131/ GBP 65) at her state school – quite the difference]. Laptops, too, are de rigeur, even though the school does not require them per se. And I’ll leave it to you to imagne the standards in fashion, hair, makeup, etc. [AAH gets up at 6 am to get ready to leave for school at 7.30 saynomore].

Not that I’m begrudging the cost. On the contrary, I’m delighted that AAH set her mind on achieving ‘the best’ and made it – I know it will boost her self-esteem and encourage her to keep striving for whatever she wants in the future, and as such it is absolutely invaluable. Plus, being among ‘the elite’ – as long as she keeps her chin up and her confidence high, which she is wont to do anyway – will hopefully only do her good. The year as a whole will be a challenge – the curriculum is demanding, and in addition to a full course of study she’s also moved up a notch at the Vocal Academy, where she started studying last year. This means seven hours a week in addition to her school studies, in vocal training, music theory and so on. [The Vocal Academy, incidentally, costs more than the prep school and books combined – and being the trouper she is, she’s paying for half of it herself, from her summer earnings]. The only thing that worries me a bit is that she also plans to keep her job on the side. After all [she maintains] she’ll need to find a way to finance all those designer clothes she needs to buy.

WEATHER!
Very wet. In fact, AAH just went off to her first prep-school party holding a newspaper over her head [umbrellas are so passé]. Currently 11°C [55F] and the sun came up at 5:45 am, set at 9:13 pm.