A Roll in the Universe

First of all: My apologies to my readers. Before I left for my trip, I did no research or reading or buying of guide book. Truth is, I plumb forgot. Second of all: Apologies to myself. I felt left out, unprepared and extremely clueless, especially in Dresden. We had an excellent Swedish guide (which is par for the course on Norwegian tours - "Local guide speaks Scandinavian" meaning you'll get a Swede) who was an architect and in love with Dresden, and took us through some amazing neighborhoods, and all I got out of it was that last names ending in -witz are Sorb . So I bumbled around in Dresden, me and my camera, and snapped a bunch of baroque buildings, but never felt awed. Isn't that weird? Look at these pictures from the complex called Zwinger ! How can one not feel awe? The guide took great pains to explain to us that the black is actually the oxidation of the naturally occurring iron in the sandstone. Me, I was amused by the naughty-looking Pan/Bacchus

I do have more to tell - or show, really - from Dresden and the rest of my trip. I just sort of have to figure out how to pare down all the photos. And figure out what to say. The truth is that I have some gorgeous photos from Dresden - and nothing to say about the city. It - didn't move me. But Dresden matters, even in my story. Here's one reason: You see, you can't go through Norwegian school or Norwegian life without thinking about Martin Luther at some point. His protest, nailed to a door in Wittenberg, started the reformation and forever changed Norway's Catholic churches to Protestant ones. The official state religion of Norway is Lutheran Evangelical. As a child in a Norwegian school, I had to take a religion history class (called Christianity class) which introduced us to his catechisms, the big and the little. I got good grades in that class, simply because I was able to pay attention and learn (most of the other kids hated that class). It never converted

My trip to Berlin was enjoyable in part because I got to travel by train (through very beautiful scenery but impossible to get a good picture of)… …and by ferry from Oslo down to Copenhagen (and home again from Kiel). I am used to thinking of international ferry trips from Bergen which have to cross the open and often mean North Sea, whether headed for Newcastle or Hirtshals (look 'em up). It finally dawned on me that the shelter of Denmark makes the ferry lines from Oslo down to the continent more comfortable. Here we are passing by the nuclear power plant Barsebäck, on Sweden's shore. We drove from Copenhagen down to the end of Falsen, and from there took a ferry to Rostock, in Germany. Rostock would have been in the former East-Germany (DDR). It was already late in the afternoon and we didn't arrive in Dresden until around 8:30 pm. To the hotel's credit, we were served a delicious, fresh and hot dinner. The next day we were on a bus tour of Dresden in the

One of my regular diets is Fail Blog and recently it gave me a really good laugh: Now, if that guy were Norwegian, he could be a proud man, because the Norwegian alphabet runs from A to Å (not Z):

Wordless Wednesday Warming hands in the Fretheim hotel in Flåm.

Well, I'm back - back from a one week tour of the former East Germany, of the cities of Dresden and (East) Berlin. I stepped off the train from Oslo just an hour ago, so I'm still digesting the trip. I have never travelled to that part of Germany before, and also didn't read up on anything before I went. I'm sure I missed a few things because of my lack of knowledge, but I enjoyed my trip and I did take lots of pictures, like this sign post in Berlin: So stay tuned, my dear readers. More travelogue coming up in the days ahead!

A couple of times people have asked me what it takes to move to Norway. Besides a plane ticket, I have no idea. One of my childhood memories involves visiting all sorts of pawn shops and the like with my grandparents in search of old-fashioned steamer trunks. Big, solid black trunks that open up like a wardrobe when stood on end. Drawers on one side and a big open space on the other. I can still remember the pale green lining. My grandparents found three and shipped their drapes, silverware, books and knick-knacks in them. Their intention was to retire in Spain and they were taking their home with them. Bringing me along for what was to be a summer vacation changed their plans - and my life. I did go back to California, and my first job after high school involved using a computer. Steamer trunks and computers. They both are the reason why, when I returned to Norway in 1981, I got a job immediately because Norway needed data entry operators, and with it, the prized document &quo

My high school history teacher told us that even if we had nothing to vote for , we always had something to vote against. At least in the US, with two parties constantly stealing the show, that's how it works. It's a little harder to vote against in European politics where you have anywhere from five to 25 party choices. So, I hope my absentee ballot shows up soon, because I know who to vote against this election. For that reason, too, I have no need to pay attention to the hoopla that is a US presidential election, because I already have my mind made up while not being invested in any one candidate. What I find amusing is how Americans react to the Republican vice-presidential candidate's relationship with moose: Sarah Palin shoots them. Surprisingy, Norway has the same number of firearms per capita that the US. Most of these firearms are rifles and belong to hunters or Army reservists. Norwegians are realistic enough and still close enough to the way of the land

Wordless Wednesday This odd pornographic art exhibit was on display in Voss last Friday.

Ah, departmental getaways with good company, laughter, music, alcohol, dancing with my boss. So I popped the question: What will it take for me to get a managerial position? We were having a little heart-to-heart which led to our talking about who to fill our boss's shoes when he retires in a couple of years. I said that I thought E or S could, but then I asked myself why suggest those two? Why not suggest myself? I can't believe I actually asked that (or even thought it), but my boss was positive. The thought had occurred to him, too. He told me to keep up what I'd been doing this past half year or so (behavior-wise). I brought it up because I am wondering where to go next. I'm busy working on an intention list, as suggested by "Harmonic Wealth" . My intention is to be manager by age 50. That gives me about two years. So a seed has been planted. Let's see if it sprouts.

Our little division at work had a weekend getaway to Flåm, which is at one end of the old Flåm Railway, which takes you through a beautiful and dramatic valley. It is part of the Norway in a Nutshell round trip, which is very popular and well worth the money, and includes a boat trip to Gudvangen, in the UNESCO World Heritage fjord Nærøyfjord. The train in Flåm We took the ferry from Flåm to Gudvangen, too, but it was a heck of a cold boat trip! Although the weather was great, this time of year, the sun hadn't cleared the mountains when we entered Nærøyfjord. I was somewhat prepared for the cold, fortunately. In the Aurland fjord, I was fascinated by the shadows on the hillside You turn a corner, and enter Naeroy fjord Almost to Gudvangen The evening before we'd headed to a new microbrewery, Ægir , in Flåm. Whatever their darkest ale was, it was delicious. You could also get a sampler tray of six beers. The outside of the microbrewery We got our drinks

In the US, apartments have numbers or maybe letters. Sometimes they have fractions. So you could get an address like 123 South Street, Apt. C, or 321 North Street, #33 1/2, or good ol' 678 West Avenue, #202. It turns out that such a simple idea for identifying individual units without needing names is a good idea - and not implemented everywhere. Like in Norway. I have been in a few high rises that use apartment numbers, but that's so you know which button to push to get buzzed in. In low buildings like mine (4 stories, 3-4 entries a building, 6-12 units per entry), there are no apartment numbers. You cannot be anonymous. You have to put your name on the door. You still need a name on the door, but now Norway has found that it is useful to be able to identify apartments independently of whichever name(s) are attached to it (an issue common in a country where so many co-habitat without marrying or taking the husband's last name). And now they've made it mandatory;

Wordless Wednesday I'm sure you've seen the Google logo for the super collider already. I'm reposting because in one way, it is historical.

Wordless Wednesday

I sometimes wonder if I should have become an architect, even though my spacial abilities are not much (in spite of getting an "A" in geometry). One of my favorite waste of times secret joys is to surf the 'net looking for cool houses. I am especially fond of Spanish style homes (which are typical of California) and Bauhaus cubes . (Whadyamean they have nothing in common? They have me in common!) One architect I admire is Frank Lloyd Wright . I am also fascinated by earthships , because I love the idea of environment-friendly architecture . Treehugger often has buildings (and furniture and interiors) that turn me on. ;-) My fascination extends even to RVs - and just because it's pr0n, I surf the luxury models. I am fascinated by the efficiency and creativity designed into a small space to make it a full-featured residence. Boats hold a similar fascination for the same reason. Not so much yachts, because they can deliberately build roomy. But efficient cabin d

I find myself hungry for knowledge, but unsure about what to read to get said knowledge. I surf blogs looking for someone who "speaks" to me, without much success. Now I'm surfing the podcasts at iTunes and am trying out iTunes U. I love listening to good speakers, people who present coherent thoughts in complete sentences with multi-syllabic words, and who are able to present their case and address any rebuttals without getting personal, off-topic or shallow. It is a nice change of pace from the talking heads on TV, and far more educational. It's funny what I find interesting: "Saturday Morning Physics" strikes me the way I've heard shoe stores strike more typical women. I look at the list of topics, like "String Theory: What is It Good for" and "The Music of Quantum Physics" and get all goose-bumpy about it. There is something about listening to a voice (or watching someone speak), about hearing something explained with the i

Tim's comment that the color of the wild roses on yesterday's post was soothing, got me thinking. The more I looked at the brilliant magenta of the roses, the more I realized that although the color is strong, it does not agitate. And that got me thinking about some other colors. There is some major rebuilding going on at work, opening up our office space to more cramped actual work areas by the windows, and with café-like socializing areas near the window-less entry area into each floor. This week, the temporary walls in the first floor came down and we have all had a chance to get a sneak preview of our new work space. All I saw were gray walls. And I felt like panicking. I guess each of us not only has a favorite color, but also a loathed color. When I take those personality tests based on which color you pick first and last, I always pick gray last. It comes after colors like brown, green and orange. Though I own some gray clothes, it is not a color I want to see in

Wordless Wednesday

Do you ever catch yourself thinking somebody else's habit sounds at best uninteresting, only to find yourself with the exact same habit somewhere down the road? As the Norwegians say, that's meeting yourself at the door. And I have done just that. Several years ago, another single co-worker told me about his morning routine, of setting the breakfast table and lighting a candle to enjoy his morning coffee and newspaper by. So guess what I've been doing lately? Yeah, I light a candle, and have breakfast and wait for the morning paper. OK, not quite the same routine, but pretty close. I wrote earlier about needing morning routines and as I went about waking up to my alarm clock, reading a daily meditation, getting up and turning the radio on in the kitchen, preparing a bowl of oatmeal and a soft-boiled egg, and lighting the candle, it dawned (no pun intended) on me that I had a morning routine. So for about 45 minutes I listen to the news, maybe thumb through the newspape