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Shucks.

So many lovely comments on that last post.

I know I have no right to complain. As many of you have pointed out, this blog has so many loyal readers and/or commenters. Some of you have been with me almost from the beginning [Bluegrass Mama, Professor Batty, Karen, Auður spring to mind …] and others show up every day to read. I know a lot of other blogs don’t have that kind of loyal readership and I value it. A lot.

I also feel somewhat guilty that I’m not able to reciprocate as I would like to. When I started blogging almost four years ago, I had just re-entered the labour market as a freelancer and I had a fair bit of time on my hands. Since then my business has grown progressively, I have a greater number of assignments and a lot less time than I used to, so things have had to be pared down and new priorities set. Unfortunately I don’t get around to visiting other people’s blogs as much as I used to, and I always feel honoured when others take the time to stop by mine.

To me, one of the best things about blogging is the interactive nature of it. I love the fact that I can write something and someone can chime in immediately, tell me what they think, commisserate, present a different point of view, share a similar experience, whatever. I love that community feel, that conversation. That’s why I try to make a point of responding to all comments, although I’m not always successful, particularly if I’m having a very busy day. I’d hate to have to shut down the comment option like some of the A-listers do. To me, that would be like blogging in a vacuum [which indeed is how it sometimes feels, even now]. I don’t see how someone like Heather Armstrong does it, even with the zillions of dollars in ad revenues.

For one reason or another, though, I seem to have a remarkably low visitor-to-comment ratio on this blog, and that sometimes bothers me. Aside from the community aspect, as Marc pointed out comments are a way of saying ‘thank you’. While it’s great that people keep coming back to read and I really appreciate that they do, when two or three or four hundred people repeatedly stop by to take advantage of something that I have taken time and effort to create and which moreover is free – without leaving a little ‘thank you’ – it can feel a bit disheartening. It sometimes makes me wonder why I’m doing it, who I’m doing it for, and if it’s really worth it. – Sentiments that most bloggers are familiar with, I’m sure.

Meanwhile, reading the comments to the last post was also a great eye-opener, because it brought home to me just how differently people view the comment thing. Some people wrote that they felt they had nothing to add … which to me is so not the point! It’s not about having to add anything profound, it’s about taking part, being present, being part of the community, saying thank you. Not that everyone has to say something every time, but … you know … sometimes.

Another possible reason for the low number of comments is that a lot of people in Iceland read this blog and perhaps they don’t feel comfortable leaving a comment because they feel they have to comment in English. This is pure speculation on my part, but it seems quite plausible, no?*

Some people wrote that they felt strange leaving a comment because they felt it was intrusive, because this blog is so personal. I was amazed! I don’t see this blog as very personal at all … believe me, there are many things going on in my life that I do not blog about here – both trivial and not-so trivial. I sometimes joke to my friends or family that my life is an open book … but of course it isn’t really. Or if it is, then only certain pages are visible.

Last but not least, I don’t want anyone to feel pressured or manipulated into leaving a comment. I know that a lot of you read only sometimes and/or comment only sometimes and that’s cool. Yes, I was feeling a bit morose about the whole thing yesterday, wondering if I needed to park this baby for a while [not the first time I say that, as some of you may recall] – but please don’t feel that you have to caretake me. My soft little underbelly was exposed, that’s all. Nothing serious.

I think I’ve now emptied the contents of my brain on the subject. Thank you for listening - and feel free to throw tomatoes at me in the comment box!

WEATHER: Cloudy with showers today. Cooler than last week. Highs of around 14°C here in the capital. Right now 11°C [52F]. Sunrise 4:52 am, sunset 10:13 pm.

* And then there are all the porno doogs, hm.

You know what’s pretty disheartening?

When almost over 400 people visit and there are only two comments.

TWO.

Feeling kind of ‘oh-what’s-the-point’ today.

That’s all.

[PS thanks to the two people who commented on the last post. Sniff.]

Just a quick post to say that IE is having problems handling the Weather Report - it loads the page partially and then quits. Firefox, meanwhile, has no such trouble, which just goes to show … something. My ISP informs me that there are no errors in their logs, which suggests that IE is the problem. Perhaps this would be a good time for people to switch to the *cough* vastly superior Firefox? Just sayin’.

And since I’m here, perhaps I’ll post a wee video taken at the top of Mt. Esja the other day. I was trying to take a picture of EPI at the top, not noticing that my camera had the video feature selected. It was such a great [read: WARM] day that we were relieved to get to the top if for no other reason than the cool breeze up there. Normally you freeze your butt off at the top - but as you can see, EPI was shirtless and YT was wearing only a bikini top and rolled-up hiking pants [and boots, of course].

Right now, cloudy skies but no wind and mild temps, 14°C [57F], sunrise was at 4.39, sunset due for 10.26 pm.

Have a great Saturday everyone!

I had to run a few errands today that involved going into shops and interacting with shop people, and I’m amazed to say that I had some of the most excellent service I’ve ever had in my life - from just about everyone I talked to. Was it something about my demeanor today? Did I come across as particularly in need of kindness? Was I radiating a warm and fuzzy vibe that made people want to be nice to me? Did I have BE NICE OR I WILL TELL DR. GUNNI ON YOU* scrawled across my forehead in big black letters? Or was everybody just in a great mood because there is a long weekend coming up and they were all in joyful anticipation of getting out of town and getting totally plastered? - Endless questions, with no ready answers. *sigh*

Anyway. First I went to the little mini-mall known as Holtagarðar which in true Nicelandic style is totally modelled on foreign mini-malls and which we just HAD to have too seeing as how all the foreigners have them [keeping up with the Joneses, it’s a national sickness], replete with the conveyor belt up and down between floors and the shopping carts with locking wheels. I got great service in there, which I must not elaborate on here because my visit there had to do with EPI’s upcoming birthday this weekend and there is the VERY MINUSCULE chance that between now and then he might actually look at my blog and find out what I was doing there, which as I said is not very likely, but as you must understand every precaution must be taken.

From there I headed to the Kringlan Mall, ostensibly because my watch needed a new battery but mostly because I wanted to see if there was anything left at the sales. I started by going to a jewellery store, feeling ever-so-slightly annoyed because as it happens I’d had the battery replaced there just after the New Year and now, six months later, it was dead again. So I go in and speak to the sales girl who was as tightly-wound as they come - the sort of woman who, had she been in her 50s, would have had about five facelifts.

YT: Hi. I need a new battery for my watch.

SALES CHICK: Okay.

YT: Um, how long is the battery supposed to last?

SC: About a year, year and a half.

YT: Yeah. Because I came here … [blah] … if I keep the receipt and it goes dead in another six months again, can I get another battery?

SC: [looks down on YT with raised eyebrows] I’ll ask. Do you want me to replace it, or do you want to wait for me to ask first?

YT: No, replace it.

So five minutes later she comes back and puts the watch on the counter. YT takes out her wallet.

SC: No, it’s OK, just take it. No charge.

YT: Oh! [genuinely surprised.] So you believe me?

SC: Yeah. We believe you. And you still came back here. We appreciate that.

!!!

Buoyant with goodwill, I wandered into Karen Millen - a store I normally avoid because their clothes are ridiculously frilly and overpriced. Perhaps I was in a frilly kind of mood today, because before I knew it I had a pile of garments that were weighing heavy down on my arm … and behind me I heard the generic sales clerk mantra:

“Can I help you?”

Of course I replied with the generic customer mantra: “No, thanks, just looking.”

And then, to my AMAZEMENT, the clerk said: “Can I take those and put them in a changeroom for you?”

[!…!]

Allow me to clarify. This NEVER happens in Iceland. Sales clerks in Iceland don’t actually go out of their way to help customers. They stand around gossiping and then turn around with a surly expression on their faces when you timidly address them. When you’ve tried things on and they don’t fit, they instruct you to put them back where you found them [a notable exception is ZARA, which of course I have gushed about a length in previous posts for being the salvation of the Nicelandic consumer, but I digress]. So I was completely gobsmacked. Oh - perhaps this would be a good time to mention that this particular sales clerk was not Icelandic? She was not Icelandic - although she spoke Icelandic, and very well, too.

Anyway, long story short, I tried on a bunch of things, none of which I was required to put back on the rack, and came away with a totally hot dress, the first item of clothing I have ever purchased in Karen Millen and which, as it happened, was a little bit frilly [but only a little bit]. Detail:

It’s a gorgeous colour, a total hourglass fit, gathered beneath the bust and goes down to around the knees. AND it was around 70% off. Score!

Okay. So then I went home and EPI and I cycled into town to do something on which I cannot elaborate because it involves his youngest daughter’s birthday, which happens to be on the same day as his. AAH was working and it was just the two of us for dinner, and the classic “what shall we have for dinner” resulted in our cycling down to our favourite fishmonger’s on Nesvegur for some fresh fish to pop on the barbecue. So we walk in to the fishmonger’s and what’s the first thing we see? Lobster! [The small Icelandic lobster] - piles of it. So we looked at each other and suddenly there was no question as to what we should have - and our super wonderful fishmonger, who is truly one-of-a-kind and ALWAYS gives just a little bit more than necessary - scooped up all the best lobsters for us, put them on the scale, weighed them and printed out the price … and then scooped up about another four handfuls and threw them in “because they were small”. Honestly. Do we need more reasons why we don’t buy our fish from anyone else? I think not.

Okay. This post was supposed to be brief and to constitute just a tiny proof that Nicelandic customer service is not always crap but of course I’ve got all longwinded again. And I haven’t even got around to talking about the Verslunarmannahelgi. Or the

WEATHER

Still tropical. What exactly we have done to deserve this I do not know. I went for a run late this afternoon along the seashore WEARING SHORTS. Until now wearing shorts while jogging along the seashore in the west end of Reykjavík has only been for the certifiable insane [i.e. the typical Icelander when the sun comes out - irrespective of temps] and not for our eminently sane YT. But either I’m going mad or something about our weather is seriously changing . Let’s hope it’s the former ………………………… although methinks it’s the latter. Right now at midnight 14°C [57F] and no I did not watch the solar eclipse behind the clouds this morning at 8 am, just saw it on TV which is infinitely more sensible as you don’t go blind.

* Dr. Gunni has become Iceland’s consumer champion extraordinaire, ever since he opened up the most excellent OKUR! page on his website, where people can vent their frustrations about high prices and poor service.

As many of you will have noted from my Flickr photos, the weather here has been amazing over the past 2-3 weeks and yesterday was a perfect gem in the string of beautiful days we’ve had here lately. We had record highs throughout the country - here in Reykjavík temps went up to 26.2 °C [79F], breaking the record of 24.8°C previously. At Þingvellir temps were 29.7°C, which was also a record and was HIGHER THAN IN THE ALGARVE in Portugal [pity the poor Nicelanders who spent tens of thousands of their hard-earned crowns to holiday there in the sun]. There was brilliant sunshine all day long and a deliciously warm wind, which hardly EVER happens here. Seriously - lately Iceland has been getting the best weather anywhere in Europe during the summers, IMHO … sufficiently warm and sunny to revel in the sun, yet free from the suffocating heat that the continent [and other places] have had to endure.*

I expect that every single person in Iceland who had the slightest possibility to skip out from work yesterday did so. You see, up here businesses close due to weather during the summers rather than in the winter [seriously] - warm and sunny days have traditionally been such a rarity here that every single one is precious. Personally I’ve just done the bare minimum in terms of work this week [EPI is on holiday and it’s pretty tempting to just hang out with him, rather than shut myself up in my little office to type away at the computer] and yesterday we headed to the pool. It was packed but we managed to scavenge a couple of sun benches and just lay there, belly-up, occasionally jumping in the pool to cool down - as opposed to warm up, as is usually the case. We picked the pool out on Seltjarnarnes this time around for our afternoon of leisure, which has gone through extensive renovations and which we have just rediscovered - it’s got amazing facilities now, several new hot pots, steam bath, big water slide, etc. not to mention free coffee and water poolside AND it’s in the neighbourhood.

It’s slightly cloudy today, a perfect day for a hike up on Mt. Esja across the bay, which we are planning for this afternoon. Coming up is the Verslunarmannahelgi weekend - the major drinkfest of the year, apart from New Year’s Eve, when almost everyone heads out to some outdoor festival or another. In our household it’s become tradition to stay in town because it’s so pleasant - the streets are virtually empty and you feel like you have the run of the city. Just great. Right now it’s a delightful 14°C [59F], sunrise was at 4.32 this morning, sunset due for 10.33 this evening.

* And we moan about the glaciers melting!

The other day I went to buy myself a new cellphone because apparently making calls and sending hasty text messages and using the phone to remotely control your kids just doesn’t cut it anymore. They have this new thing where you can surf t’internet and pick up your email and gab with your friends in real time and such. And because YT is a typical Nicelander who must always have the latest, best and most superexcellent in all things gadgetry [not really], and also because AAH needed a triband phone she could use in the States and my old clunker fit the bill, I decided it was time to upgrade.

Anyway, so off I go to old Kringlan mall and wander into a store and promptly break into a sweat because ALL THOSE PHONES that do all those different things that I’ve never even heard of before and, well, it was all just kind of overwhelming. So this girl comes over and asks if she can help me pick one, and all I knew was that it had to be Nokia because I’ve always owned a Nokia and everyone in the household owns a Nokia and it’s good because we can all use the same phone chargers, and besides it was useful for narrowing things down a bit. Oh, and I also wanted to be able to pick up my email. That was all.

So, long story short, I go home with this model of phone, except in a lovely white, and after admiring it for a bit I break it open [I’m not kidding, I had to use force] and stick my SIM card in and start playing around with the settings and such. It had this bit of plastic pasted over the screen and the plastic had the logo of my phone company printed on it, and I fiddled with it a bit more [frustrated as hell, if you must know] before removing the plastic, and it was at that point that I realized that the logo and name of the phone company was not on the plastic but embedded in the actual phone itself.

In other words: at the top of the phone: NOKIA. Below that, just beneath the screen, this

[Except the name was to the right of the logo.]

I dunno. Call me anal, if you will if you shall if you must, but the more I looked at that sucker, the more it bugged the hell out of me. It looked like an ugly blemish - nay, a grotesque pimple - on my pearly white 3G Nokia phone. Particularly - and this is important - because the model I looked at in the store DID NOT have such a grotesque pimple on its pristine black surface, so effectively I had been sold a phone that was different from the one I had viewed in the store. Besides, I thought it was pretty damn presumptuous of old Vodafone to expect me to just advertise their brand for them - FOR FREE - for the next two or three years, when they hadn’t even asked me nicely. Or, actually, when they hadn’t even asked me at all.

By the end of the evening, I’d decided I wanted a new phone. One that didn’t have that dastardly Vodafone advertisting logo on it [by this time it was all I saw when I looked at the phone]. After all, I have no particular loyalties to Vodafone - and what if, a few months down the road, I decided to switch phone companies? I’d be with Síminn, or NOVA, or Tal or whatever, and my phone would still read VODAFONE in big screaming letters. Which would just be stupid, like the whole thing was stupid.

So, the next morning I get on the blower to the Vodafone service centre. The girl on the other end talked to me like I was demented when I explained that I wanted a phone that didn’t have a Vodafone logo. “Why? Didn’t you buy it from Vodafone?” - Well yes, I bought it from Vodafone, but … . “Yeah, ok, but we don’t have those phones without the logo.” - Well then I’d like a refund. She laughed in my ear. “A refund? HAHAHHA!” Finally she said I could TRY to talk to the store manager at the main Vodafone store … but her tone of voice made it quite clear that she was purrritty damn sure I wasn’t gonna get anywhere.

RING RING!

YT: Hello, is this the manager of the Vodafone store?

MANAGER OF THE VODAFONE STORE: Yes.

YT: Yeah, hi. I bought this phone [blah] … logo … [blah] … advertise … [blah]… refund.

MOTVS: If you’ve already put your SIM card in it we can’t take it back. It’s a used phone.

YT: Yes, but the phone I looked at in the store didn’t have the logo on it. I get the phone home and it’s got a logo. That’s not the same phone as the one I thought I was buying.

MOTVS: If you’d returned it as soon as you saw the phone had a logo and not put the SIM card in it, I could have taken it back, but you didn’t. You put the SIM card in and now it’s not the same phone as the one you bought.

YT: I thought the logo was on the plastic. I don’t usually start by taking the plastic off.

MOTVS: Well, if the logo bothered you so much, why didn’t you start by checking to see if it was actually on the plastic?

Ah. Yes. Icelandic customer service - at its finest. So after ascertaining that this was her final answer, that she absolutely was not going to take the phone back, I did the grown-up equivalent of running to mommy: I called the Consumers Union.

To be continued …

WEATHER!

Blustery and cool. It was gorgeous yesterday, this morning still pretty nice with just a thin veil of cloud and hardly any wind, but by afternoon it was chilly and blowing pretty hard, at least out by the golf course where EPI and I took a brisk stroll to imbibe some fresh air. Currently 12°C [54F], sunrise was at 3:57 am, sunset at 11:08 pm. Getting darker fast!

When EPI and I and EPI’s father drove across Sprengisandur last week we spent the first night at the a place called Hotel Highland, billed as “the only luxury hotel in the Icelandic highlands”. EPI’s father had called ahead to book a room for himself, which cost a paltry ISK 15,300 per night [USD 197/EUR 125], and sleeping bag accomodation for EPI and me, which cost ISK 2,900 [USD 37 / EUR 23] per night. Neither of us minds roughing it – especially since ‘roughing it’ in sleeping bag accommodation in Iceland generally just means that the bed has no duvet and the bathroom is in the hall.

Hotel Highland is utterly remote; however, just before you get there you come to another place offering highland accommodation, called Hrauneyjar. As we drove past, we noticed that place was hopping – loads of tourists sitting around outside drinking beer and generally having a swell time, by the looks of it. Very inviting.

Meanwhile, the Hotel Highland, located a few kilometres up the road, was absolutely dead. Not a soul was visible on or around the premises, and the reception was deserted. We waited a little while in the tiny vestibule that served as a lobby, completely at a loss, until a bunch of French tourists started piling in, who had just arrived on a bus. At that point, a young woman appeared in the reception and proceeded to deal with our booking. She spoke no Icelandic and seemed very confused about what to do with us. Disappeared again, then came back and announced to my father-in-law that he was in “Room 13” [dumdum], whereas EPI and I were in “L-House. Outside, back there. L-House.”

So we go back outside, EPI’s father holding the key to his room which was attached to a piece of wood with the room number burned into it with a magnifying glass, and proceeded to look for both Room 13 and L-House. Round and round we walked, until EPI and I arrived at low ramshackle building that looked like it could be L-House. His father, meanwhile, wandered off to look for his room.

Words can hardly describe the dismay that filled our YT as she cast around L-House. A more apt name would have been ‘Bleak House’. It was a shack that had originally been slapped up to house temporary workers at the nearby power harnessing station, decades earlier. And it was showing its age. Curtains were torn, the rods were askew, sections of beds were falling off … everything was makeshift and shabby, although – to be fair – relatively clean.

But the worst was yet to come. Back outside, we found EPI’s father – who, incidentally, is 82 – standing in the parking lot in a state of semi-shock. Seems he’d finally found Room 13. He’d stuck his key in the door, opened it, and been accosted by a terrible smell. The room was a mess, the curtains were drawn, and there was a shape on the bed – the shape of a man on his back with his mouth gaping open, who was “either deceased, or passed out,” according to EPI’s father, who was visibly upset.

At that point YT took the lead and decided that we should go back to Hrauneyjar – with all its living, breathing people – and try to wangle a couple of rooms for the night. We left the key to Room 13 in the empty reception and drove back to Hrauneyjar, which – as before – was a hub of activity. So much, in fact, that it took us about 20 minutes to find someone in charge. Finally a plucky, assertive woman with a big Pink Panther tattoo on her neck came along and announced herself as the manager – not only of Hrauneyjar, but also Hotel Highland. Score! So we related our misfortune, she shook her head woefully and got on the blower to the invisible people back at the hotel. “Who is in room 13?! Who is in room 13?!” she demanded to know, before commanding, “Well, get him out of there!” Apparently – she told us later – they have these sorts of problems from time to time, where people get pissed out of their skulls up in the middle of the highlands, don’t check out when they’re supposed to, and when the hotel staff tries to evict them, refuse to leave because: “I can’t drive! Where do I go!?”

So anyway, by way of apology she declared that EPI’s father should be placed in “Suite No. 2” back at Hotel Highland [there was no room at Hrauneyjar] in place of Room 13. Suite No. 2 turned out to be pretty nice – it had its own bedroom as well as a living room with – JOY! – a pull out sofa bed that EPI and I could crash on [imagine our relief in escaping decrepit old L-House]. The ‘Suite’ even happened to have a little patio out back on which we were able to prop up our little travel BBQ and cook up some lamb filets with baked spuds and stuffed mushrooms. Indeed, we were happy as clams in ‘Suite 2’ and didn’t even mind that things were, shall we say, a little on the malfunctioning side, so much that my FIL, who has travelled all over the world, dubbed it the ‘Soviet Suite’. We washed our hands in the bathroom sink and next thing we knew we were standing in a puddle of water – almost as much water dripped from the pipes as came out of the tap. We reached out for a towel in the bathroom and the towel rack fell down on one side and just dangled there. There was no knob for turning on the shower in the tub. But of course, to us these were merely charming little quirks, considering all that had gone before. And you can bet that we drank a hearty toast to the man in Room 13.

WEATHER TODAY!

Perfectly sunny and amiable, but with a chilly wind that sort of kills the fun. It’s 14°C [57F] right now, and sunrise was at 3.51 [it was blazing sunshine when I drove to the airport at 6 am to pick up AAH], sunset due for 11.14.

EPI and I are on holiday right now, which basically means Doing-Everything- We-Don’t-Have-Time-To-Do-While-We’re-Working. Things like Driving Across Sprengisandur, Sleeping Until Noon, Frying Bacon for Brunch, Actually Reading the Newspaper, Hair Appointment, Massage Appointment, Combing Every Fricking Sports and Department Store in the City of Reykjavík for a Decent Swimsuit on Account of Boxers Being Ripped Off [a futile exercise, sigh], Opening That Bottle of Bollinger and Eating Grilled Lobster with Garlic Butter and Toasted Baguette, And So Forth.

Meanwhile, work keeps coming my way and my greatest dilemma is how not to say YES to everything. Some of the assignments are actually very tempting, such as the offer by the major international travel publisher who contacted YT through the Weather Report with a view to doing some work on a Niceland book [unfortunately the timing didn’t work out, boo] and shows how this blog - which started out as an anonymous little diversion - has become much more than the sum of its parts. People keep talking about a recession around here and - yes - lots of people are being laid off, but I’ve never been so busy in my entire freelance career. It’s quite wonderful, actually.

AAH is currently in New York visiting her stepsister and reportedly the pair of them are taking the city by storm, all thanks to a pair of false eyelashes and a borrowed ID card. So, has she seen the Statue of Liberty? Empire State Building? Brooklyn Bridge? - No, but you can bet she can give a detailed description of every H&M and Urban Outfitters in the city. I was on Skype with them last night for over an hour because that’s how long it took for AAH to hold up all her purchases in front of the laptop camera to show me. Honestly, I fear that by the time she leaves all of New York City’s shops will be a gaping vacuum. She’ll need her own fleet of cargo planes just to transport all the stuff home.

IT’S BEEN RAINING!
And pretty damn windy, too. I’ve actually been delighted for all the vegetation, which has just been sucking it up after all the drought around here recently, but I do pity some of the poor tourists I’ve seen, tucked deep inside their windbreakers with their hoods tied up around their faces so just their noses and eyes are poking out. Niceland takes wind and rain to a new level of understanding, by the looks of it. Some of that abated today, though, and there was only minimal rain and actually a few sunny spells. Weatherman sez the next couple of days are going to be stellar, weather-wise. Right now 10°C [50F], sunrise was at 3:42 am, sunset at 11:23 pm.

Well, I must be hitting the big leagues because I’m getting hate mail and lunatic rants.

Yay! I guess.

And while I generally have a policy of evicting anyone who comes at me or other readers of this blog with profanities and blatant disrespect, I rather think I shall let those be. Give a man a rope long enough and he’ll hang himself with it, I always say. Knock yourself out.

A couple of other things:

Graham from Scotland asked the other day whether I could post some pics taken between sundown and sunrise. I always make a point of going out at around midnight during the summer solstice every year, but I missed it this year because it came a day earlier than usual, on June 20th as opposed to the 21st, on account of the leap year. Pulled a fast one! And quite frankly I’ve been too exhausted in the last few days to head out at that time of night, with or without a camera. BUT - there is a solution in the form of the webcam they have set up eyjan.is [and probably elsewhere]. It gives the date and the local time, so log on there at any time after midnight our time and you’ll be able to see what our light nights look like.

Finally, one for the geeks in the crowd: can anyone recommend a good web host? I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but I’ve been having some trouble with mine lately, i.e. my site has been down fairly frequently and there have been a few other grrr-inducing things. The requirement is that it be reliable, affordable and have efficient and speedy customer service. Anyone??

IT’S BEEN SUCH A GREAT WEEKEND
Gorgeous weather! Sure - a bit cool, but that’s par for the course … at least most of that nasty wind has subsided. I’m working for much of the weekend [I really try not to work weekends, but in the last few weeks have had to relax that rule far more frequently than I like] but still I managed to do some work by the side of the Laugardalslaug pool yesterday, which was obviously highly preferable to being bolted to the office chair. It’s 12°C [54F] and sunrise was at 2.56 and sunset will be at 12.03. The will soon be getting shorter *sob*.