A Roll in the Universe

I was surfing the worldwide web and my own bookshelves, looking something up for a friend. I therefore became reacquainted with the Japanese term "sanpaku" , which means "three whites", i.e. the whites in your eyes show up on three sides, not just two. The third is either above or below the iris. Sanpaku shows imbalance, whether physical or spiritual, and so warns of failing health or an otherwise unhappy life which can lead to an untimely death. Apparantly, cats can have sanpaku eyes, too (though I suspect these critters were merely photographed with their heads tilting down). Which was really what I wanted to blog about, but then Blogger consistently offered up all of its links in its Dashboard in Japanese. Now, I'm familiar enough with posting to Blogger to know what the mysterious links actually do (and the color-coding helps, too), but I hadn't experienced the Japanese "glitch" with my browsers at home. I could manage a post, but I coul...

I came across this post in which a man boldly comments on the woman's purse . He daringly stated that we women do not need such things. At most (because of his observation of his wife), we need just a tiny hand-held clutch (hence its name). Not one comment agreed with him (or was written by a man). But one thing lept out: The biggest reason for toting a tote is to have something to read. Just about every woman who could not make due with just pockets (I try, but I hate the tell-tale bulge even a tiny lipstick makes) or the clutch, stated that she needed something to carry a book in. One commenter even noted that there were an awful lot of readers reading and commenting. Count me in. I have always had a purse that is big enough to hold a Reader's Digest, at least, or even a whole book. I keep trying to downsize my purse, but have always been thwarted by the desire to have room for something to read. Waiting for the bus, eating alone in a restaurant, waiting in a line: These...

The goal was to bring the gold home. AND WE DID! Quietly, thanks to another team losing its chance at the gold in a soccer match last night. Because, you see, my claim of us winning the gold was a bit early. Even though our team, Brann, did not have a game last night, its supporters came out in the thousands, and our newspapers are filled with pictures of red-clad and extremely happy people. And our local newspaper's online version is treating us to this pop-up: It's one time I don't mind a pop-up window. What a lovely medal! HEIA BRANN!!!

I've been corresponding with a Norwegian-American friend on, among other things, the cheap electricity and clean water of Norway. During our correspondance, the news in Norway was able to tell me that a) the power companies don't earn enough to fix leaks that could power a city of 500,000, and b) the pipelines in Norway are several decades old, and fresh water lines are laid right next to sewer lines. There's been an outbreak of giardia and some other icky things in Oslo's water this past week. My own town of Bergen had the same about two years ago. The family of the woman who died from drinking water infested with giardia is currently suing Bergen. A friend in California lives in a city with a river that could easily overflow its borders and the shoddily-built levee that was meant to contain it. Due to other regulations, people were allowed to settle in what is now designated the flood zone. It could be New Orleans after Katrina all over again, and the reasons are ...

The magpies were scolding incessantly for several minutes. It finally got my attention, so I got up and looked out my living room window. I saw the problem almost immediately: Settled in the crook of the tree, looking rather comfy, was a white cat I've seen around the neighborhood before, and I'm sure, the same cat that once made its way into the unfinished magpie nest now above it. The magpies who built the nest still see this birch tree as theirs. They scolded and chattered at the cat, and, amusingly, attracted a number of other birds, like a couple of great tits and blackbirds. It took a while but the birds finally got the cat's attention; this blackbird (thrush) came very close. (I apologize for the blurriness.) It occurred to me that my first assumption about the birds being attracted to the cat in the birch tree was for the entertainment value, was wrong. I now concluded that the birds were gathering across species to rid the tree of a common enemy. The magp...

I saw the company doctor today. Just a regular annual check-up. Blood pressure's up but still a healthy 120/80. Cholesterol's up but within the healthy range. Iron levels are good. Heart and lungs also sounding normal. Lung capacity still rocks. I don't feel like I'm going to be 47 in less than two months. One thing though: My doc asked me about an answer on a form about how I felt about upper management. Turns out that the subtle shift I've felt since this summer has been felt by other employees. The question is, what next? I'm still working on that question. In the meantime, trees are turning gold, evenings are turning cold, and I'm rhyming. I think I could do with a bit of Wow! in my life about now. Just to shake things up a bit. Perhaps I got a bit of Wow! Saturday night. I attended a lecture titled "Buddhism in the West" given by a Danish lama, Ole Nydahl . He had to give his talk in English, because spoken Danish sounds too consonantles...

"You Can Heal Your Life" by Louise Hay has a list of metaphysical and/or emotional reasons for physical ailments and attendant, healing affirmations. Some time this summer my right front incisor started to feel slightly looser. It seemed to be able to lean a bit against its neighboring teeth. By last week, I was feeling a sensation in my upper lip right where the root to that tooth is that I can best describe as "vibrating". Last Saturday, the wiggle seemed to be even more noticeable than ever. I took a deep breath and told myself not to panic. There are a few ways to seriously scare me. Bodywise, it just takes the suggestion of chest/breast surgery of any kind - or my teeth breaking or falling out. I called the dentist Monday morning and was told my favorite dentist was out on indefinite sick-leave. Well, dentists in Norway are generally good, I've never been mistreated yet, so I got an appointment for Thursday, yesterday. Wednesday I was home from work...

My upstairs neighbor yelled and stomped his feet so loudly, I heard it from my kitchen and realized instantly that something had happened on tonight's soccer match, so I left my dishes and turned on the TV. I discovered my neighbor had yelled as our team ended the 1-1 score with a 2nd goal, and then, just seconds later, a third. Our local soccer team, Brann, has not won the series since 1963. But tonight that changed. After a brilliant season of only four not a single lossed lost matches ( just the rest wins and ties), Brann won a defining home match tonight 3-1 . We're gonna be partying all week and for the rest of the month! The town I live in will never be the same. And neither will the team's official song. They're going to have to rewrite the verse about winning last in 1963. Heia Brann!!! PS: I keep having to edit this post. Which doesn't surprise me. a) I don't use spellcheck, b) I know nothing about soccer or our team, c) except that our team ten...

Nothing like starting a Saturday with a tasty cup of coffee (Java Mocca, in this case) and an article that tickles the funny bone. This even involves some of my favorite critters: Rats, cows and Norwegians. Forskning.no - a Norwegian web newspaper that specializes in reporting on research - has given its own slant on this year's Ig Nobel Awards, including posing the very same question that occurred to me after mentioning the award-winning research in linguistics showing that rats are unable to tell Dutch apart from Japanese when hearing the languages spoken backwards . The question is: Is it animal cruelty to subject lab rats to such things? Then the Norwegian article states that Norwegian researchers have had more nominations (and wins) to the Ig Nobel Prize than to the real Nobel Prize, topping out in 1996, with, among other things, trying to figure out if blow-up dolls can spread gonorrhea (they can't), and what stimulates appetites in leeches (sour cream's fine, b...

Your Deadly Sins Sloth: 60% Gluttony: 20% Greed: 20% Envy: 0% Lust: 0% Pride: 0% Wrath: 0% Chance You'll Go to Hell: 14% You will die with your hand down your underwear, watching Star Trek. How Sinful Are You? (Paula, whom I swiped this from, got the exact same score , but a different death.)

I went to hear one of my favorite Norwegian cartoonists , Mads Eriksen, speak, and took a picture of him working, but that didn't come out, unfortunately. He was sketching what was to become this: Eriksen was pleasant and humble, and he did say something about Norwegians and their attitudes to the newspaper daily comics: Those comics seem to have a special status for people, to the point that people have actually apologized to Eriksen for not reading his strip. There is something about this festival that made me realize that I need to visit it every year, and just park myself in the auditorium where the interviewing of the guest artists/writers takes place more or less continuously. Because the thing is, those guys are so enthusiastic, so happy, so generous about their work and with their art, that you leave happy, even if you have no clue who the artist/writer is or what cartoon or illustrated story he does. And this they do in between handling a long line of fans waiting for...