A Roll in the Universe

Nothing is certain but death and taxes. And swear words. Back when I still lived in the US, my mother and I got window seats at Philippe's in downtown Los Angeles on the evening of April 15th, to watch people slowly driving by to toss their returns into huge hoppers on Alameda, which was one-way that night. I've also kept a Norwegian friend company on her walk to the tax return receptacle at 11 PM on April 30. We noted as we turned to walk home that we weren't the last. You may have seen there how I slipped Norway's deadline in. So I have been swearing in English at my Norwegian forms this morning because I own pretend money that the government wants to know about. Yeah, I'm late. For some darn reason I've been putting this off this year. I've been putting everything off. Even breakfast. I'm doing taxes on coffee alone. Every year I tell myself I need to learn more about the stock my employer gives me every spring for being a good little worker bee, bec

I read about this very bright object being shot up into orbit around Earth earlier this year, just to twinkle in natural sunlight as an artificial star for a few months. And I noted that it would be visible from Norway on April 24-25 2018. I've had this date marked on my calendar since I read about the controversial launch of the Humanity Star . Although I understand the arguments against this bright object that the astronomers had, I thought I may as well take a look since it's up there. I read somewhere that it would be visible in my part of the world today or tomorrow. First of all, it's overcast now and it will continue to be overcast the next couple of days. Never fails. I guarantee that if they announce some awesome celestial phenomenon visible from Bergen, the skies will not be clear. I pretty much treat forecasts for southerly viewings of the Aurora Borealis as forecasts for rain now. (In case you're wondering, auroras are a polar phenomenon that weaken the fa

"Not all those who wander are lost." —J.R.R. Tolkien Let me just say—as someone who loved to get lost in an encyclopedic dictionary when she was a kid, wandering from definition to definition like exploring room after room in a pre-computer adventure game—that this is one of my favorite quotes. And that love of following a path to discover more, especially in words, made me love html and hyperlinks. That's what the internet is: A huge encyclopedia with cross-references all over and "see …" everywhere. The encyclopedic dictionary I lost myself in also included a list of the meanings of names, a thesaurus, famous quotes, as well as French, German and Spanish dictionaries. It was published by Reader's Digest, and it is one thing I sometimes wish I'd taken with me when Grandma died. But then I remember I have the internet. So off I go, wondering if "vague" has anything to do with the vagus nerve, and it does. The Latin root of both words means t

The great national holiday in Norway, on May 17th, is a far more involved and formal event than the equivalent celebration in the US, on July 4th. There are also a lot of traditions and traditional food associated with the day. This year, I'm going to partake in a 17th of May breakfast in town. In some ways, Constitution Day in Norway, is not exactly a Sunday or religious holiday. It's a day off but buses run on Saturday schedules and restaurants are open. Some Constitution Day ribbons that people wear on the day  A bunch of us got Norwegian citizenship during 2017 and have decided to go All Norwegian the only way foreigners can. So we've decided to have the 17th of May breakfast buffet, which is a tradition. It includes rømmegrøt (sour cream porridge) and that's all I need to know (although cured meats and smoked salmon with scrambled eggs are also traditional fare). I've booked a table that should also offer a fantastic view of the parade(s). There are thre

So, I'm busy downloading old photos from my Flickr account because Flickr is being sold and I'm tired of dealing with various TOS. 'Sides, I'm paying for Dropbox. And digging through the old stuff, here's one from 15 years ago: The weekend I was a professional astrologer. Giving an astrological reading at the Bergen New Age Fair (Alternativmessen) 2003 First of all: Dig the Mac laptop! The toilet lid, as Norwegian Mac afficiendos called it. Heh. I still have the striped knitted cardigan behind me. Handknitted by a dear no-longer-with-us friend who picked quality wool and did quality work. I shared the booth with the blonde Tarot reader in the corner. Haven't stayed in touch. If you dig into the links to earlier pages, you'll find where I wrote about the weekend I spent at the New Age Fair 2003 in Bergen and some other astrology stuff. I never stuck with it. It turns out I don't find people all that interesting. Let me rephrase: I like helping and

I like that the word "parallel"—if written in a sans serif font—contains a parallel. What also contains a parallel, is astronomy and from there, astrology. Keep reading if you want to see me attempt to explain the tilt of the planet. First of all, let's get one thing in our heads: All the planets, except Pluto, revolve around our sun on the same plane. Now add to this the fact that the Earth tilts about 23 degrees and this is the reason for seasons. I once really messed explaining this to the point that I called the other person stupid. But I was the stupid one, so let's see if I finally have this straight (hah!) in my head. This is, of course, far easier to understand visually, so grab something and hold it at a tilt and then move it in a circle parallel to the floor, keeping the same tilt, i.e. the object is tilted the same way as you see it all around the circle. You'll notice that at one point, the bottom is closest to the center of the circle and the to

There are some real-life genies: Ones who can give you exactly what you want, without any effort on your part. Like my hairdresser. I think the modern term is "stylist" but my hairdresser doesn't style the rest of me—just the hair. But he does do magic with that hair. My hair has its own version of stubborn: Ruler-straight and baby-fine, it will not hold a curl without chemical help, and it won't even stay put in a ponytail. Within half an hour I have strands of hair gleefully escaping whatever I tried to hold them with. But my hairdresser makes me happy with my hair. He finds ways to cut it to take advantage of what it is. And it is shiny and gorgeously mousy brown. No, wait, he once told me it is ash brown and one of the best hair colors out there. He's less than two years older than me. I keep wondering what I'll do when he retires. I'll finally have to go find another cutter and that isn't easy. He has employees and some of them have had the opp

Most folks think of migratory birds returning from their winter in Africa or some place as the sign of spring. For me it's the screeching gulls. Gulls and April arrive at the same time. The moment April's lawns are no longer covered in snow, the gulls return from whatever open water they've been hanging out at. Squawking, screeching and calling, they start their racket (courtship, it's called) at around 4 am in the morning and pretty much don't let up until their babies can fly. So basically all spring and summer. I know that for many people, this means interrupted sleep for a few months. For some reason, I can sleep through gulls crying at godforsaken predawn. Some magpie trying to chatter-warn a cat will wake me up and keep me up, but gulls yammering away at each other soothes me. Herring gulls are losing their coastal habitat so they come to the cities. Here, there are flat roofs, often with gravel, that mimic the lost nesting areas on the coast. So up on ou

I could give you all kinds of astrological reasons for why my flow suddenly choked, but suffice to say that the communication planet Mercury is slowing down to turn around and right itself on Sunday. Until then, I shall amuse myself—and hopefully you, too—by wondering about the "false friends" language has. Things that look related or alike, but do not mean the same thing. Take "glimmer" for example. A word that means faint or wavering, especially of light. The dying beams of your flashlight are glimmering. Then there's the Norwegian word "glimmer", which means brilliant or excellent or brightly shining and flickering. Both the English and the Norwegian word have made the rounds but started with German. At what point did the English version come to mean faint rather than bright? Anyway, if someone tells you you're glimmery or something like that in Scandinavia, beam brightly and steadily with pleasure. The Daily Prompt: Glimmer

When I read that Bergen was getting ready to celebrate 950 years in 2020, I suddenly felt old. I remember when this plaque was new: Stones from all the counties of Norway were used to create this commemorative plaque for Bergen's 900th anniversary in 1970. The caption reads "1070 Bergen City 1970 / Norway's cities lay down these stones". (The number of cities has increased a lot since 1970.)

It arrived. The one document that makes everything irreversible. It makes me catch my breath. I get emotional opening the thick envelope from the US embassy in Oslo. They returned my passport, canceled. That's what makes the envelope thick. The rest are slim papers: The actual Certificate of Loss of Nationality of the United States, with several sheets attached. The first one tells me my options if I want to reconsider my loss, and the next ones are a set of the paperwork I signed at the embassy, now embossed with the embassy's seal. My eyes skim the papers, seeing dates. Renunciation date. Processing date. Dates that show actions and decisions. Final acts. Final decisions. I tear up again. Also in the envelope, a receipt I am to return in an enclosed envelope, confirming receipt of the other stuff. The instructions say to return this receipt as soon as possible to complete the renunciation service. I have to buy stamps. But first, I need to breathe. However much I&#

"Luminescence is emission of light by a substance not resulting from heat; it is thus a form of cold-body radiation." Wikipedia's definition of luminescence immediately put me in mind of a literal cold-body radiation. I still don't quite understand it. It happened when my then-boyfriend attended church with me. "Church" was not really church the way a typical Christian might think it. The term was used for lack of something else recognizable, something that would identify the building as a place of worship that wasn't a mainstream religion. The philosophy offered in this church was one of compassion, tolerance, positivity and personal responsibility. The church also believed in the power of healing but did not promote actual laying on of hands. Which led me to learn about the aura and the invisible body. Yes, a bit New Agey but I liked it and still do. With this sort of thing in my life, I was getting into the idea of us being energy bodies and of

I don't often post about politics. Mainly, it's because I don't have the intellectual capacity to understand and engage. I therefore understand those who vote with their gut, because I do, too. But I do get impressions from the world around me and right now, it looks like it is reenacting "Animal Farm". I know that George Orwell wrote "Animal Farm" (and later "1984") as an allegory for the communist revolution in Russia, but the allegory applies to any situation where the leader of a change or revolution ends up betraying it. Everyone plays a role: The leader, the leader's right-hand man, the idealists, the purists, the skeptics, the counter-revolutionists, the followers. It's been a while since I read "Animal Farm", but I remember one of the horses from the story, one of the last who could remember how it all started, but couldn't quite grasp the details of it, partly because she couldn't read. I have looked up a li

Pardon the unoriginal title. Being creative just before dinner is hard. So's knitting. Well, knitting with difficult yarn, or knitting a difficult pattern, or combining the two. I finally got so frustrated that I decided to (re)learn crocheting. I haven't crocheted in years, and although other family members have done it, I never quite felt it was for me. Also, I think crocheted clothing looks dorky. But I have this yarn, this expensive, cerise (that's a color) Egyptian cotton, originally destined to be a knitted sweater. A sweater I started on and even got as far as setting in the sleeves (raglan turned out not be hard) and trying on; the sweater was too small. So I started over with larger needles, or was it more stitches, or was it both? At any rate, after at least 4 attempts, I gave up so the yarn's been sitting there, reminding me that I sure know how to waste time and money. So I tried to knit a cowl. A cowl that you knit in the round in its final length, s

When I see the word "haul" the American in me automatically puts a "U" in front of it. I haul, however, without a truck or trailer. I own no car, so life is about getting stuff home without one. Or getting stuff back out. Hauling becomes a project as well as a test of wits and endurance. I am actually proud of myself for being able to haul a 27" iMac home on the bus, the wide, flat box with a brand-new and expensive machine securely strapped to a small, collapsible baggage trolley. The cashier at the Mac store couldn't get over how clever I was with four bungee cords and two wheels. I was rather happy I was impressing a young, handsome man. The awesome plaid of my shopping cart I have a similar set-up for groceries: A proper granny-bag of a wheeled shopping cart, conservative blue tartan and all. It holds two large grocery bags of shopping, and makes hauling canned and bottled stuff so much easier on the arms. I supplement with a rucksack, and there&

Snow in Fyllingsdalen as seen from my living room A lot of people think I live in the frigid north. I don't, actually. Where I live, an umbrella is far more useful than a fur coat. Norway is more like Washington state than upstate Alaska. The sister cities of Bergen and Seattle both tend to be rainy, not snowy, in the winter. This winter, of course, decided to be an exception. Or maybe it's this spring that's acting up. It snowed on Tuesday and Wednesday. Big, wet, fluffy flakes that covered the ground with a soggy white blanket that only children bound and determined to get some sledding done can enjoy. For the rest of us, the challenge is footwear and temperature. Regarding the latter, if it freezes, this pretty slush will become pretty dangerous to traffic. Regarding the former, rubber boots will keep one dry but they slip on wet snow, and leather boots with good soles will help you walk safely, but may get wet—or worse: Road salt will soak in (though waterproofing

Explore:1. travel through an (unfamiliar) area in order to learn about it. 2. inquire into or discuss (a subject) in detail. I tend to "explore" according to definition 2. You'd think I'd be quite the globetrotter, since I live abroad and have always had a passport. However… I am not a bold or unconventional traveler. I have never backpacked and have never found the idea appealing, either. I "interrailed" once on the coastal steamer that goes up Norway's coast from Bergen to Kirkenes and back, but we had a solid roof (deck) over our head and access to a shower. We slept in the 3rd class lounge. (I don't think they have 3rd class any more.) I will use an outhouse. I grew up with one so that doesn't faze me. For this reason, I am also not squeamish about using public restrooms. But I don't watch travel programs. I don't voraciously read travel magazines or read up on other countries (even though I grew up with somebody who did). I pi

As a native Californian, I still feel a bit of worry when I let the water run, like I see so many Norwegians do. It's standard: They let it run to get it nice and cold. They well afford to: The one place that never seems to run out of fresh water is Norway. The never-ending supply of that most vital of fluids can lead to some bad habits and disappointments. Norwegians are always faced with culture shock when they leave their country, because the moment you set foot in Denmark, you get recycled water. Norwegians always complain about how tap water tastes elsewhere. They also complain about being told not to waste the water, especially when they want to shower every day just like they do at home. Norwegians are encouraged to take shorter showers at home, but this has nothing to do with water and everything to do with the price of electricity—used to heat up the water. During lunch at my first job in California, the discussion turned to personal hygiene. The showers-every-day woman

Spaghetti was always my favorite food growing up. I had to give it up when I went low-carb. Last night I had it again, with buckwheat noodles. Tomato sauce, broccoli florets, chicken meatballs and lots of cheese. Yummy! This morning I did my 1-minute wake-up routine of doing steps on my ottoman while lifting with barbells. And I felt absolutely great doing it. Nothing hurt, nothing creaked, I didn't have to keep catching my balance. I didn't even get winded. Is there really more to comfort food or favorite foods than just taste or emotional balm? Hmmm…

As healthy and as long-lived as Norwegians are, they are plagued by one baffling disease: Osteoporosis. As a woman who has lived here for part of her childhood and all of her adulthood, this is something to be concerned about. Is it genetic? Is it dietary? We may have the answer, finally. Good dietary habits when I was a child in Norway included a tablespoon of cod liver oil. As a child, I actually liked the stuff. Didn't like fish, but I didn't mind that spoonful of omega 3's and vitamin D, intended to compensate for the lack of sunshine. (The rule is to take cod liver oil or "tran" in all months with an R in it. There is also the rule not to fish in months without an R in it, so those two rules dovetail nicely.) As an adult I can't stand straight "tran" any more and get my fish oil in capsule form. In the years since, Norwegian researchers trying to understand the national epidemic of broken hips have proposed many theories: Sedentary lifestyle, n

Coughing so hard, I can hardly breathe. Coughing so hard, I start to feel twinges I shouldn't. This is what I had in February, and for a while I thought I had the flu. I didn't. Instead, my body has decided that some foods are not good for me. The baffling thing was the fever. But if my esophagus was inflamed from all the tummy upsets, then a fever would be understandable. I was out sick a second time with the same thing in March. This time my doctor gave me an antacid, which I think helped my esophagus. But what is triggering all this? Prior to this, I'd had a lot of overtime work and dinners that were easy solutions, including pizza. I knew that wheat was a problem. I'd been struggling with a red, flaky forehead during Christmas, when I consumed a lot of food made from flour (including my beloved pumpkin pie). When I avoided wheat, the skin irritation went away. But just avoiding wheat wasn't enough. I found that eating oats was giving me sinus trouble. So I di

Yesterday’s post about a badly behaving co-worker, reminds me of another time a male co-worker behaved badly. In that second incident, a good man made a mistake. I did go to HR this time. I felt he needed to know that he had been terrifying. Norwegian men can get so tall. The guy in this incident towered over me (my 161 cm self reached only to his collar bone), as well as being in a position of authority. At a company picnic, with free booze, taking place after work at a rented boathouse in a secluded inlet, Tall Guy tried to get me alone. After a weird conversation where he asked me if I was lesbian (huh?), he convinced me to dance with him on the pier. I wasn't too bothered by him at this point, since we had cubicles across from each other, and got along at work. We were alone, then, far enough away from the lights from the boathouse to not be easily seen. Then he started talking about something he needed to tell me. I was expecting another awkward Q&A about personal stuf