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Wanda sez…

Thank you everyone for your kind words of condolence, etc. in the face of this current calamity. I’m one tiny step closer [although not as tiny as the Haloscan font size, which henceforth shall be my measurement for tiny] to accepting this laptop for What It Is – particularly after a fortifying ‘e-chat’ this evening with someone named ‘Wanda’, a Fujitsu Siemens support rep residing somewhere in cyberspace. ‘Wanda’ has duly informed YT that the click! click! noises are not normal [surprise] and that I must take the machine in to have a technician look at it. [Say, won’t that be fun? After all, they do love me down there and will probably welcome me like a long-lost sister, one they haven’t seen in, oh, two days.]

In other edifying news, a visit to the dentist today determined that AAH needs… BRACES!! Walking out of that office today, AAH looked as though she was being led to the guillotine. She is extremely distraught but keeping a stiff upper lip at the moment, anyway. Meanwhile, YT is wondering where to come up with the ISK 400,000-800,000 to foot the bill [USD 2,800-5,600]. Ah well, den tid, den sorg* as our cousins the Danes like to say. [Have I mentioned that we’re off for a weekend in Copenhagen in a couple of weeks? I must be the only Icelander that has never been to Copenhagen, the former capital of Niceland… but that’s just because I’m a pseudo-Icelander.]

Just as an aside, don’t you just hate it when you’re in a doctors or dentists’ office and the only magazines they have are, say, from 1997 and they’re all grubby and dirty and you feel like you’ve got cooties just because you’ve picked one up and looked at the cover? But you’re waiting for someone [like AAH] and have nothing to do and there’s nothing else to read so you pick one up and read it anyway? And then feel like your hands are contaminated and you can’t wait to get to the nearest sink with soap to wash them? – Or do you think I’m neurotic?

The weather today was pretty good, sunny and lovely to look at but a bit chilly with a fairly strong breeze. Bundled up in scarf and sheepskin mitts to walk along the shore to the bakery and tried not to stare when this jogger came running towards me wearing SHORTS. It’s an Icelandic sickness – whenever the sun comes out they start removing all their clothes, whatever the temperature [in this case 2 or 3°C]. His thighs were absolutely white except the fronts of them were RED where the wind hit them. Trés charmant. Meanwhile, the sun came up at 07.50 and went down at 19.25.

* An expression meaning something like, ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it’.



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