I hope you all had a lovely Christmas or whatever peaceful holiday you celebrate this time of year! We’ve been relaxing and really enjoying the season. Since so many businesses here were closed this week, I’ve been lucky to get some much-needed time off from work (without pay, dammit, but whatever, it’s nice to give mopping a rest) and have spent most of the week baking, eating, drinking, reading, going for long walks with Husband, visiting with people in person, on the phone, and via email, and, of course, playing with the kitties. It’s been blissful, really, and I’m a wee bit sad to say goodbye to Christmas but I am absolutely looking forward to the new year, as I’m thinkin’ it’s going to be a good one.

I’m not so much looking forward to New Year’s Eve, though. As you may remember from my first post of 2007, Norwegians in Sandefjord (and most other parts of Norway) celebrate New Year’s Eve with a massive BANG courtesy of their legally acquired stash of near-professional-strength fireworks. As I’m not a big fan of loud noises and drunk people armed with rockets, I dread what Monday night will bring. Our house is directly adjacent to a large school yard and we’re betting this vast expanse of empty, unsupervised grassland is going to be turned into a miniature Cape Canaveral. Bummer for us.

On the bright side, this is the last year that the really big, thundering firecrackers will be legal in Norway. Yea!!! Apparently the escalating number of injuries suffered each year by children and adults who aren’t quick enough to get out of the way of their own combustibles has caused officials to rethink the whole idea of allowing amateurs to play with incendiary projectiles. There was a story in the Aftenposten today explaining which firecrackers will, beginning Jan. 1, 2008, be illegal. The story was accompanied by this graphic, which I’m a bit ashamed to admit I found kind of funny.



I know this is serious stuff and I shouldn’t be amused by statistics about exploded body parts and I’m not, really I’m not. It’s the picture of the rocket and the warning to “Remember safety glasses” that cracks me up. As if glasses are going to save your face if your Mad Hornet Demon Missile blows up prematurely. It’s better than nothing, though, and so I hope all the little norske New Year's launchers heed that wise advice.

Well, at any rate, I’m not going to let any of this ruin my New Year’s Eve, which I plan to spend at home with Husband and the cats, a load of food and booze, a couple of DVDs, and big, big, BIG hopes that 2008 turns out to be the grandest year ever in my grand adventure! Fingers crossed, my friends, fingers crossed. And big wishes to everyone for a very Happy, very Safe New Year!

Always up for any opportunity to post a not-completely-gratuitous photograph of David Beckham, I present the Prince of the Pitch today in honor of my anticipation of his very special Christmas show tomorrow afternoon on BBC2 radio. He’ll be answering questions about his career and his life and playing some of his favorite music, all simply to make my Christmas Day that much more special, I’m sure. I love me some David and I’m excited to hear his show.

Not just his show, mind you. BBC radio traditionally presents fun and different programs just for Christmas and I’ll be tuned to BBC2 most of the day today and tomorrow. Today there’s Christmas in Motown, Harry Connick Jr. and his Big Band, Charles Hazelwood broadcasting a mix of popular and classical music with musicians playing in his Somerset barn, and, finally, Carols by Candlelight. Tomorrow we have Becks, a brief Elton John concert, a Christmas tale narrated by Christian Slater, and, of course, the Queen’s Speech at 3:00pm GMT.

Is it wrong that I have no idea what’s happening on NRK, Norway’s national radio?

Anyway, it’s Christmas Eve and David Beckham on air isn’t the only good news I have to share. My Dad came home from the hospital on Saturday and is feeling much better. He still has a lot of recovering to do and so will be spending his holidays getting seriously reacquainted with his recliner chair. Luckily there’s a lot football to watch, both pro and college, and he and Mom have a pile of DVDs to sit through as well, mostly chosen by their well-intentioned children. Hope you enjoy “Blades of Glory,” guys! It’s funny!

Mr. Baggins also seems to be on the road to recovery. His, um, digestive issues have cleared up and he’s interested in food again, which is such a relief. Sadly, he is still rejecting Elfrida, which is a terrible thing to watch. Initially we thought he was taking to her but that was falsely optimistic. She’s so nice to him and tries so hard to be friendly but he just walks away from her. We can only hope that with time and patience, he’ll learn to like her as much as we do. Frida is healing nicely from her spay surgery. She never messed with her stitches, so we didn’t have to use the plastic collar (sorry Emily—no pictures!). She still needs a lot of sleep but is spending more and more time running around like a crazed rabbit in between bouts of playing with any object we toss in her direction.

Well, Husband and I are off to pay our respects to the graves of his Aunt Elfrida and Uncle Hjalmar. As we discovered last year, Christmas Eve is the day when Sandefjordians visit the local cemeteries to remember their loved ones with flowers, candles, and a bit of time. We appreciate that tradition and will go with our thanks to H’s family for giving us the opportunity to spend this part of our lives on their lovely little patch of Sandefjord.

Merry Christmas Eve, everyone!

This week has been a bit weird. I’ve been busy with some fun things like Christmas cards and letter writing, and Husband and I finally got around to buying a Christmas tree. It’s traditional in Norway to put up the tree only a week or so before Christmas Eve, so we decided to go native and do the same. There was some confusion over which kind of tree to buy at the big garden store, Plantasjen, as we had to decide between something called an edelgran or just the vanlig (normal) gran. We learned later that the edelgran is a noble or silver fir tree and is the more desirable, better-quality tree, which is why it was priced 100 kroner more than the vanlig gran. Being the frugal shoppers we are, we gravitated immediately to the less-expensive gran, priced at a bargain-basement 150NOK and looking pretty enough, especially as it was covered in frost from sitting outside in the freezer-like garden patio. Very Christmas in the forest, we thought. “We’ll take it!”

Sadly, we realize now why people avoid the vanlig gran tree. Once it thawed out and spread its prickly, spindly little green branches in our living room, it started to drop needles. Hundreds of them. And it does that every time any of us come close to it. I think it lost a fifth of its needles as I strung the lights through it. Stupid tree. I’m afraid to even try to hang ornaments. Good thing it only has to last for a couple of weeks, as I’m certain it will be completely bald by New Year’s Day.

Anyway, it’s nice having a tree, even one that could have been featured in “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” When the lights are on, it looks warm and festive, a nice contrast to the continuing polar landscape outside. And now we even have presents under it courtesy of my Mom and her big box of Christmas treats that arrived yesterday. Thanks Mom! So that’s all good.

Not so good is the news we got on Monday that my Dad is sick and in the hospital. He’d been feeling bad over the weekend and went to the doctor Monday morning with what he feared might be pneumonia. The doctor was afraid of that, too, and sent him directly to the emergency room, where he waited until they finally admitted him to the hospital. He’s still there now, undergoing more tests ordered by the lung specialist who thinks Dad might have emphysema. We’re all waiting for more news and just hoping Pops can go home before Christmas. I know my Mom is worried and I wish I was there to help out. All I can do is phone and email and be grateful that my brother and his wife will be at Mom’s on Saturday and that my sister and her family will be around for Christmas. Living far away is terrible at times like this.

Closer to home, Husband and I are keeping an eye on little Elfrida, who went in for her spay surgery on Wednesday. The procedure went well, according to the doctors, and she should heal quickly enough, as long as she doesn’t rip out her stitches. To keep her from being able to get at them, the vet sent us home with a little “recovery dress” they recommend. We weren’t sure about it but we forced it on the poor cat Wednesday evening as we were told to do. She hates it.

Make that “hated it,” since we woke up Thursday morning to find the dress laying empty on the bathroom floor and Elfrida, naked and sleeping peacefully, behind the bed in the guest room. Wow, our cat is a total Houdini! We exchanged the dress for one of those plastic Elizabethan collars injured animals sometimes wear but we just can’t bring ourselves to put that on her. She’s so sleepy all the time anyway, and hasn’t shown any interest in chewing on her stitches. For now, we’ll just watch her closely and wait to see if we really have to use that collar.

But that’s not all! Mr. Baggins is also sick. He’s had diarrhea for two days and today won’t get out of bed, so I’m worried about him. If he’s still quiet tomorrow, I’ll take him to the vet.

Poor kitties! Poor Dad! Poor Mom! This really has been a weird week. I want to go back to the day all I had to worry about was a bald Christmas tree! Hopefully everything will seem better tomorrow.

Ever since I moved to Norway in May 06, I’ve been pretty much living up to my promise (to myself) not to complain about the weather. I didn’t want to be like J, a woman I worked with once who moved from Hawaii to San Francisco and complained about the cold all the time. I mean, I get that it’s all about what you’re used to, but she really hated the weather in SF and, really, the weather there isn’t that bad. I guess I got a little payback that week Husband and I vacationed in Kauai and I maybe bitched the tiniest bit about the heat and the clerk at our hotel just sort of rolled his eyes and said something about how you get used to it when you live there. But I digress.

I don’t complain about the weather in Sandefjord. You can ask H, he’ll tell you, I’ve been really good about that. And he’ll readily admit it, since it’s about the only thing I’ve been really good about. Well, okay, so I maybe moaned a little about the dismally wet summer we had this year, and maybe there were a few swear words uttered over my first encounters with icy sidewalks last February, but, honestly, for the most part, no complaining. Before I break my arm patting myself on the back any more, though, I should say that the weather here isn’t extreme. It‘s not nearly as cold or dark as I imagined it would be or as barely-survivable as a few well-intentioned scare-mongers warned me it was.

Until this week. This week, it turned cold. COLD. Not Michigan in January cold but, still, the coldest I’ve ever experienced. It’s been between -6C (21F) and -8C (17F) all week and, my friends, that’s pretty cold. I had to walk into town and back this morning for a doctor’s appointment and, by the time I got home, my scarf was crusty with ice just from my breathing through it and my fingers were throbbing even though I was wearing gloves and glove liners. Dang! That’s cold! Here’s what it looked like around our neighborhood today:





Pretty, for sure, but almost too cold. For me, anyway. Not for some people. Last night, as I was driving home from Stokke, where it’s even colder than Sandefjord, I saw an old-ish guy---definitely in his late 70s, maybe older---RIDING HIS BICYCLE along a dark, icy road and looking like he did that kind of thing every day. That’s hardcore, man. Respect.

There are some benefits to this weather. There’s the cozy relief of tucking in for the evening with a nice fire blazing away and your underfloor heating turned to just the right temperature. There’s the comforting knowledge that your kitties are safe and warm and starting to like each other. And there’s ice cream! Since we don’t have a freezer, we’ve never been able to have ice cream at home, until today! Husband picked up a quart of vanilla at the market today and we’re just keeping it out on the porch along with a bag of frozen berries we’ll eat on our pancakes tomorrow morning. Our entire garden is a freezer right now. That’s pretty cool.

Continuing momentarily on our Nobel theme, Tuesday night Husband and I watched the star-studded Nobel Peace Prize concert that took place at the Oslo Spectrum and was broadcast on NRK TV. It was pretty impressive. The very dapper Kevin Spacey and the uber-beautiful Uma Thurman hosted a parade of performers that included KT Tunstall, Alicia Keys, Annie Lennox, Earth Wind and Fire, and the freakishly youthful Morten Harket (formerly of the band a-ha---did you know a-ha was Norwegian?). The stage setting was spectacular, the music was excellent, and the guests of honor (Al, Tipper, Rajendra, the Prince and the Princess) all looked like they were having a good time. The weirdest moment of the night happened when Tine Thing Helseth, the famous young Norwegian trumpeter, finished her hauntingly emotional solo and was immediately followed on stage by that talented Aussie vixen, Kylie Minogue, dressed in black leather and shaking it like the classiest pole-dancer you’ve ever seen. The juxtaposition was jarring and many people in the crowd looked embarrassed. But no more embarrassed than Husband and I felt watching one of the world’s five biggest exporters of oil and gas putting on such a divine party for two men being honored for their work in providing evidence and giving publicity to the catastrophe of global warming. That IS weird.

As Liz mentioned in her comments a couple of days ago, modern Norway owes its wealth and power to its industrious mining and selling of its most valuable---and destructive---natural resources. At the same time, it wants to be seen as being totally on board with Al and Rajendra in their efforts to combat the arctic meltdown that will bring chaos and misery to us all. In an odd way, then, is Norway like a bizarre Columbian drug lord, or, rather, Scandinavian oil lord, urging the rest of us to “just say no” while it grows rich, fat, and happy on our need to fill our tanks and power our electricity plants? Well, let’s admit it---we’re all in it together. They sell, we buy, the world turns ‘round.

On a more personal note, H and I can now recalculate our household global footprint because we have added one more to our family. On Sunday we traveled over to Tove’s Kattepensjonat, a cat kennel in Sandefjord that also takes in stray and lost kitties, and we adopted a little friend for Mr. Baggins. Elfrida (we named her after H’s late auntie) is six or seven months old, very cute, and very lively. She’s a bit skittish, as she’s still getting used to us, but we’re hoping she’ll grow comfortable with us soon and start feeling safe and content here. Mr. Baggins isn’t nearly as thrilled by this disruption to his cushy lifestyle as we hoped he’d be. So far he doesn’t seem very happy at all about Elfrida’s presence; mostly he just ignores her, chases her away, or whacks her on the head when she gets too close. But we think that, like any grumpy old man, he’ll soon get used to what is new and he might even start to like having her around. We hope anyway. Because we’re already attached to her and she’s not going anywhere.

Al Gore is in Oslo for this year’s Nobel Peace Prize festivities. Yesterday Gore and Rajendra K. Pachauri, the head of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, accepted their prizes at Oslo’s City Hall before a crowd that included Norway’s King Harald, Queen Sonja, Crown Prince Haakon, and Crown Princess Mette-Marit. It seemed that all of Oslo was excited to catch of glimpse of Al and his wife, Tipper, during their stay here, as their appearances on the streets of the city drew big groups of reporters and onlookers.

Before the awards ceremony, Gore attended a rally for children arranged by Norway’s Save the Children organization, parts of which were broadcast on national radio station NRK 1. During a little question-and-answer period, I heard a boy ask Mr. Gore why more people in the United States don’t use trains and buses instead of so many polluting automobiles. While waiting to hear Gore’s response, I couldn’t help but think that kid must live in Oslo and most assuredly has never been to Sandefjord or any other of the plethora of Norwegian suburbs. If he had, he’d be too embarrassed to ask that question, seeing as how 98% of suburban Norwegians don’t think twice about using their cars for every little errand or trip around town. Sandefjord’s got to be one of the more car-friendly places I’ve ever lived. Except for a couple of blocks in the city center, it’s designed primarily for the automobile. Too many streets and roads don’t have sidewalks, and although there are some bike lanes, they are poorly planned and irritatingly disjointed.

And that’s all a bit odd, given how the government here taxes the hell out of automobiles and petrol, apparently in a completely useless attempt to dissuade people from driving. To my mind, there’s a major disconnect between the illusion the government creates, here and abroad, about how environmentally-friendly it is and the reality of day-to-day living for the average Norwegian. Like those car and petrol taxes. If the government wants its citizens to get out of their cars, then it needs to provide real alternatives, and there aren’t enough. As I mentioned, pedestrian walkways and bike lanes in my city need major improvements, and buses and trains are ridiculously expensive. If Husband and I want to take the train to, say, Oslo, it costs us 800NOK round-trip. That’s almost $150. We want to use the train, we’d RATHER use the train, but who’s kidding who? If we're both making that journey, we drive. Even at $7 a gallon for diesel, it’s far cheaper for two people to share a ride. That’s, um, stupid.

And don’t even get me started on the heating systems in the offices where I clean. Every time I work, whether it’s at night or on the weekends, those offices have an average temperature of 24C (75F). Even in a t-shirt and cotton pants, I’m sweating after an hour of work. And electricity is expensive here, so it’s not just energy those businesses are wasting. I wish our electric company provided an incentive to turn down the heat and switch off lights, like Pacific Gas & Electric back home. In San Francisco, PG&E charged one rate for gas and electricity if you stayed below your “baseline,” or recommended usage for the number of people per household. If you went over your baseline, you paid a higher rate for those units of energy. That’s a fantastic way to encourage conservation. Skagerak, our electric company here, offers nothing like that.

I’m certainly not saying Norway is worse than the U.S. when it comes to CO2 output or energy usage; the facts prove otherwise. But if Norway keeps going the way it is now, it will gain on us, and that’s bad for everybody.

By the way, Mr. Gore’s response to that ill-informed child at the rally? He said the U.S. needed to create more fuel-efficient cars that pollute the air less. I wish he had said something about investment in public transportation, high speed interstate railways, and better urban planning to make cars less necessary. But, hey, he’s the one getting the Nobel Prize. He must know what he's talking about.