Thursday, December 22, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Well then....
I spent some time running on a treadmill at the gym this morning. Running makes me feel better whenever emotions and thoughts and other bothersome features of the human condition threatens to overcome me. And today was one of those days…one of those pesky Sundays presenting all kinds of conundrums for me to contemplate. So I ran. For nearly 2 hours, in fact, while listening to a newly edited playlist on one of the better household acquisitions this year - a little Walkman radio which can be hooked up to iTunes for downloading music and other media files. Since its arrival at 120 J Street, I have re-discovered my love for all things Norwegian (well, NEARLY all things Norwegian) currently available for purchase from iTunes. This morning, my all-things-Norwegian included Bjørn Eidsvåg, Henning Sommero, Halvdan Sivertsen and Jan Eggum….(maybe that’s what made it managable for me to run for two hours).
Another re-discovered love of late is that of writing letters. And I mean WRITING letters, using an ink pen, paper and eons of time contemplating what to say to whomever I am addressing the correspondence. Since returning from my “drive-by” visit to Trondheim this fall, I have noticed that I find the connections from my now distant past more and more valuable. The ability to sit down by a table and write a letter to a friend or relative or acquaintance is deeply satisfying to me. I think about the person I am about to write to, feel my way into whatever it is I would like to communicate and then, only then, I write the initial greeting at the top of the page….and from there on forward, my letter writes itself. By the time the paper finally is folded and deposited in a suitable envelope, I feel like I have had a conversation with the addressee, even though the person doesn’t even know that it happened…
And sometimes, I end up receiving a response. This week I have had the pleasure of finding two letters in my mailbox upon “reentry” from work….both from Norwegians, both from women I rather care about and both deeply meaningful to me. Thank you, ladies. You made my day.
Another re-discovered love of late is that of writing letters. And I mean WRITING letters, using an ink pen, paper and eons of time contemplating what to say to whomever I am addressing the correspondence. Since returning from my “drive-by” visit to Trondheim this fall, I have noticed that I find the connections from my now distant past more and more valuable. The ability to sit down by a table and write a letter to a friend or relative or acquaintance is deeply satisfying to me. I think about the person I am about to write to, feel my way into whatever it is I would like to communicate and then, only then, I write the initial greeting at the top of the page….and from there on forward, my letter writes itself. By the time the paper finally is folded and deposited in a suitable envelope, I feel like I have had a conversation with the addressee, even though the person doesn’t even know that it happened…
And sometimes, I end up receiving a response. This week I have had the pleasure of finding two letters in my mailbox upon “reentry” from work….both from Norwegians, both from women I rather care about and both deeply meaningful to me. Thank you, ladies. You made my day.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Takk
Jeg tenkte ofte på hvordan det skulle bli å sitte der i en gyngestol og snakke med deg om livet og døden og alt i mellom... Og jeg ville så gjerne vise at jeg gjorde det tilslutt…Du hadde rett - jeg fikk det til - jeg fant meg selv der ute et sted midt i livet... og nå forstår jeg...
Men det får bli til neste gang...Takk likevel... Itj fårrå nålles.
Men det får bli til neste gang...Takk likevel... Itj fårrå nålles.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Boy-band spoof...
My eldest child tipped me off as to a hilarious (Norwegian, of course) spoof on the 'Boy-Band" phenomenon of the -80's and -90's.....
The song is written by Norwegian songwriter Jan Eggum (whose tunes and lyrics are phenomenal by all accounts, BTW). The original is entitled "Ryktet forteller"(the English translation is not his...Think the boys did that themselves).
The song is written by Norwegian songwriter Jan Eggum (whose tunes and lyrics are phenomenal by all accounts, BTW). The original is entitled "Ryktet forteller"(the English translation is not his...Think the boys did that themselves).
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Atheism is a non-prophet organization
I rarely read forwarded "mass-emails" or other (seemingly neverending) "corporate funnies"...Today, however, someone forwarded me the following list of what she deemed "puns for the educated mind"...and I laughed........................Hmmm... Does that mean I am educated?
1. The roundest knight at King Arthur's round table was Sir Cumference.
He acquired his size from too much pi.
2. I thought I saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island, but it turned out
to be an optical Aleutian.
3. She was only a whiskey maker, but he loved her still.
4. A rubber band pistol was confiscated from algebra class because it
was a weapon of math disruption.
5. The butcher backed into the meat grinder and got a little behind in
his work.
6. No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.
7. A dog gave birth to puppies near the road and was cited for
littering.
8. A grenade thrown into a kitchen in France would result in Linoleum
Blownapart.
9. Two silk worms had a race. They ended up in a tie.
10. Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.
11. A hole has been found in the nudist camp wall. The police are
looking into it.
12. Atheism is a non-prophet organization.
13. Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to
the other, 'You stay here; I'll go on a head..'
14. I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me.
15. A sign on the lawn at a drug rehab center said: 'Keep off the
Grass.'
16. A small boy swallowed some coins and was taken to a hospital. When
his grandmother telephoned to ask how he was, a nurse said, 'No change yet.'
17. A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion.
19. The short fortune-teller who escaped from prison was a small medium
at large.
20. The man who survived mustard gas and pepper spray is now a seasoned
veteran.
21. A backward poet writes inverse.
22. In democracy it's your vote that counts. In feudalism it's your
count that votes.
23. When cannibals ate a missionary, they got a taste of religion.
24. Don't join dangerous cults: Practice safe sects.
1. The roundest knight at King Arthur's round table was Sir Cumference.
He acquired his size from too much pi.
2. I thought I saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island, but it turned out
to be an optical Aleutian.
3. She was only a whiskey maker, but he loved her still.
4. A rubber band pistol was confiscated from algebra class because it
was a weapon of math disruption.
5. The butcher backed into the meat grinder and got a little behind in
his work.
6. No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.
7. A dog gave birth to puppies near the road and was cited for
littering.
8. A grenade thrown into a kitchen in France would result in Linoleum
Blownapart.
9. Two silk worms had a race. They ended up in a tie.
10. Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.
11. A hole has been found in the nudist camp wall. The police are
looking into it.
12. Atheism is a non-prophet organization.
13. Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to
the other, 'You stay here; I'll go on a head..'
14. I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me.
15. A sign on the lawn at a drug rehab center said: 'Keep off the
Grass.'
16. A small boy swallowed some coins and was taken to a hospital. When
his grandmother telephoned to ask how he was, a nurse said, 'No change yet.'
17. A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion.
19. The short fortune-teller who escaped from prison was a small medium
at large.
20. The man who survived mustard gas and pepper spray is now a seasoned
veteran.
21. A backward poet writes inverse.
22. In democracy it's your vote that counts. In feudalism it's your
count that votes.
23. When cannibals ate a missionary, they got a taste of religion.
24. Don't join dangerous cults: Practice safe sects.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
The end of an era....
So, Rusty - my favorite choir director of all times - has accepted a job in North Carolina and will be moving from Utah in a week or two. I am thrilled for him as I know he has dearly wanted the opportunity to serve in a full time church music capacity for some time now. I am not quite that thrilled at the thought of not having his significant and never ceasing creativity, talent and musicality to lean on during the next choir season...
Thank you, Rusty, for some glorious choir years. And thank you for your encouragement, humor and hard work....We are all better singers now than what was the case prior to the "McKinney years".
We will miss you... I will miss you... God speed.
Thank you, Rusty, for some glorious choir years. And thank you for your encouragement, humor and hard work....We are all better singers now than what was the case prior to the "McKinney years".
We will miss you... I will miss you... God speed.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Random things......I think not!
I work in a research office. Research offices frequently feature statisticians. Statisticians tend toward specific definitions. Of which ‘random’ is one; believe it or not. Yesterday, while mindlessly net-surfing in an attempt to engage my brain, I came across an old friend’s blog. I haven’t seen this friend for something like 10 years, so I rather enjoyed reading some of his musings on life in general and living in specific. Additionally, since it’s been such a long time since our last 'in-person' encounter, I enjoyed a post he had put up a few years ago entitled “25 random things about me”….I suppose knowing what he deems random about himself makes him much less random in my awareness. Funny how that works…Makes me question the validity of statistics (insert BIG GRIN).
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Multi lingual....
A few weeks ago, I took my cousin Øystein to the Salt Lake City airport and said goodbye following his near 3 week visit with us here in Salt Lake City. Though relatives have visited with us before during my 17 year stint here in Utah, this particular visit was different on all kinds of levels. First of all, Øystein was but 15 or 16 years old last time I saw him. The current rendition of the man (!) is quite different than my previous acquaintance. Second of all, though his English is excellent, we ended up speaking Norwegian at home for the majority of the time he spent here; an exercise I no longer am that used to, to say the least. Third, he is a journalist, and as such, inquisitive and eager to learn everything there is to learn about anything, body and place. Including us here in the Pascoe enclave.We had an extraordinarily great time while he was here.
Now, all of that aside, what I really want to talk about is related to my second point; the language issue. I am multilingual simply due to the happy accident of being born in Norway and having had access to an education system which - at least back then; I cannot speak for the current organization - valued and appreciated language training for all students. I benefited greatly from learning Norwegian (x2), other Scandinavian languages, German and French, and I try to keep up on most of said by reading newspapers in all mentioned languages (minus maybe French, my least favorite language for the time being), chatting with folks of numerous tongues and singing (thanks Rusty) choral music set to all the worlds native languages; including “dead” languages, such as Latin....Which, come to think of it, is also a language I had a fair share of exposure to as a student in Norway.
None of that language training and background prepared me for the three weeks with Øystein, however.Speaking Norwegian again and using my childhood dialect most of the time was unexpectedly difficult.I struggled to remember words, stumpled over old memories and stammered my way through many an explanation, discussion and conversation with him...Much to his amusement, I am sure. I believe (and as you probably have noticed, I keep coming to this conclusion regularly these days) it is time for a visit to Norway again.
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