Moss bound

The packing has begun. Tomorrow I depart Trønderlag and arrive Østlandet. Back to the old house for 2 and a half weeks of reading, socializing and painting. Project patteo pool is a priority and must be completed ASAP because warm weather is expected. Although it is not intolerably warm, a little poolside chill out never hurt anyone.

I have to pack a lot of stuff I am only going to use for one evening but it has to come. Thank god for the new rucksack. With all the clothes I have found in the moving process it would have made sense to have some kind of surplus depot in Moss rather than giving it the ol' heave hoe.

I am trying to MacGyver an apparatus that will alow our plants to slowly receive water, so far no success. It is one of those things that sounds really good on paper, but in reality there are far too many variables, gravity and water pressure being the most prominent. I have settled to end the evening on a high note, a program about Gamma Ray Bursts.

English Quid Pro Quo

It is hot in Trondheim and it is awesome and epic. Two words I have found myself using a lot lately, either out loud or in my inner musings. Daniel and Carl have actually had their English rub off on me. Of course these words come natural as breathing to them, it is almost a way of life. Everyone has their signature word or phrase and mine is just nice. No, seriously, the word "nice". I say it with much gusto. One more day of strategic item choices for packing and I should be off to Moss for a couple of weeks. Got some well-laid plans for self-improvement and relaxation. (Pictures to follow)

The summer trek is taking shape

In preparation for the summer vacation and the impending mountain hike, I have tirelessly searched for a pair of hiking boots. After reading many a review of the expert and layman kind, I finally came to the conclusion that I wanted a pair of Scarpa Mustang's. Although viciously overpriced in Norway, shipping and custom charges would have evened it out anyways. So I go down to the local mountaineering (and I use the term loosely) store to see what we can see. I try on several types and brands of shoes (yes I know no shame when it comes to testing the patience of store clerks), in various sizes of course. I finally fall upon these babies. It goes without saying that I stumbled (because the shoes didn't fit) upon the sizing dilemma I have with shoes. In this case, the female model's color was not that bad, in fact perhaps slightly better. As an added bonus to the purchase, perhaps because the seller felt I had somehow been emasculated by the having to settle on the female model (although they were just the right size), he threw in a pair of thick smart wool socks. So I can check that off my list of summer purchases.


On a totally different note, I will be continuing (with no hesitation from myself) my job in the area of winning hearts and minds but mostly teaching English for the future leaders of tomorrow. Every year I get better at my job, and hopefully this coming year will be legen------wait for it----DARY! So I plan to go above and beyond the call of duty in an effort to really do well. Now it just remains to be seen if a continuing great opportunity will suddenly become ideal. Like a wise woman once said, visualize and it will happen! To anyone who has never seen "Field of dreams", I recommend you do. Mental note to self: Never build a baseball field.

Flavour of the day: Cinnamon

Onsdagsloungen, or loosely translated the Wednesday Lounge

Now I have managed to get a reputation, I think, due to my frequencies at the bar and Stagbar for those of you who know what that is. But my work has not gone unanswered. Today, or rather the day before yesterday, the cadets of class 59, headed by the bar chief DE, honored me with a membership in the elite, yet elusive and enviable "Onsdagsloungen" club.
This might sound a bit lame, and dare I say desperate, but one of the perks of being a member of this club is that I finally get a mission patch. I am sure the tipping point was my "yard of ale" stunt some days ago, but I will wear the patch with pride! Cheers sirs and mams.

And........NO MORE STUDENT HOUSING

After a lovely 6 years in student housing, I have finally moved out. The new apartment is awesome. Lots of space (compared to student housing, that is not saying much), good water pressure, sufficient warm water and a couch. Good shelf space and river adjacent! Let the good times roll.

The first shipment is away!

The moving progresses and I finally have gotten the key for the place. With some helpful aid of a RAV4 and many hands, my heavy 50 litre boxes are now in the storage room in the near vicinity of the apartment. All that remains is one more little shipping trip and all my stuff should be safely in place. Then starts the unpacking, one nick knack at a time.

On a completely different note, I have discovered the parallel universe that is the Stagbar. And then I think to myself, what is a stag. oh yes a deer-like creature, but it is something more. As a noun it is clearly mundane, but what about as a state of being. To arrive stag means to arrive without female company. A stag party would then be an all male party. So I ask the question, in this politically correct age, is the Stagbar, or rather was the Stagbar initially an all male club. But certainly in this day an age this does not apply. But tradition is good, and if it ain't broke, why fix it.
Could use a little renovation while we're at it (C&D, make it so!).