Our Tree is in tatters and so are our Hearts

Well, Folks, it's over. All those hours and hours of shopping, wrapping, cooking, baking, cleaning, baking, cooking, wrapping, shopping - and it's all done for another year. But it was fun while it lasted, wasn't it?

Our Christmas tree is in tatters. Ole insists that we keep it up until after New Years, but I don't know if it's going to make it this year. It's looking a bit on the ragged side these days. Here's why:


Little Miss Medora seems to think it's her own personal climbing tree and has made it to the top numerous times. And she's difficult to remove because she wraps her body around the trunk of the tree and then peers out at you from the branches with her head almost meeting her tail. Stinker!! I keep readjusting the lights and ornaments, and they keep becoming unadjusted about as fast as I can adjust them. On Christmas Eve we squirted her with the water squirter so many times she was soaked, and started thinking it was a big game. I've never confronted a cat before who didn't HATE getting wet - but this little fur ball doesn't seem to mind. It's become a game of "Nyah, nyah, na boo boo, you can't get me!" Right now all we have is a small spray bottle to go after her with. Ole says he's going to bring the Super Soaker in from the shop. You remember those powerful huge squirt guns that could fire a stream of water 500 feet? Well, maybe not THAT far, but a long ways anyway.

Just an aside here - Ole, as you've probably figured out by now, is always full of weird, strange ideas. One winter when it was really cold here he filled the super soaker, stepped outside the door, pumped it up and let her rip. The water got about 10 feet into the air, froze and landed on the deck with a tinkle. It was so cold the water froze in the air before it hit the ground. Okay - enough of an aside.


Then of course, we had the neurotic Miss Daisy who spent the evening trying to guard all her "babies." She'd carry them around, squeak them a bit and put them in a pile where she thought they would be out of the way - couldn't risk getting them tossed out with the wrapping paper, you know. When someone would get to close to them she'd snap them up and move them again. Unfortunately she couldn't get them ALL in her mouth at once and would have to make several trips. Poor dog was a nervous wreck all evening.

Then we have Mr. Cool - Senior Citizen Simon. His method of dealing with all the chaos is to pretend it doesn't exist. Maybe it'll go away then, right? He spent Christmas Eve and most of Christmas Day with his nose stuffed in the wooly afghan.

I must say we had one of the nicest Christmases we have had in a number of years. It was peaceful, quiet and very laid back. Lovely Daughter and Lars were here, we opened presents after we ate, then watched the latest Harry Potter movie that Lovely Daughter received as a gift. Sitting by the fireplace in a dimly lit room with a very full stomach and an egg nog or two made all of us pretty sleepy so I don't know that any of us saw the end of the movie.

Ole made breakfast on Christmas morning, then there just happened to be things left under the tree from Santa so we had more "gifties" to open. Then, because Lars has never seen any of the early HP movies, we had an HP marathon on Christmas Day, with lots of ham sandwiches and other leftovers in between.

Santa Claus was REALLY good to me - I got a new digital camera - totally unexpected. It's a new 10 megapixel Olympus with an 18x optical zoom and two image stabilizers. I was so thrilled. Lovely Daughter and Lars certainly went overboard for Ole and me also. We were truly gifted people this year in many ways, especially because we were all able to be together and be relatively healthy.

Speaking of health, our tree isn't the only thing that is in tatters - so are our hearts. Several weeks ago Ole had to take Beau to the vet - we couldn't put a finger on exactly what was wrong, it's just that he wasn't his normal, happy self. The vet did a panel and found the white count to be high but couldn't find anything else to indicate what the issue was so put him on an antibiotic and within a few days he seemed fine.

Toward the end of last week we noticed that things weren't right with him again. Because of how he was acting we thought he was having a bout with constipation (sorry if that's TMI), but then that seemed to clear up also. Over the weekend and through the holiday he would have periods of time where he would curl up into a little ball and sleep - not typically the Beau dog. This morning Lovely Daughter dropped him off on her way to work and I knew within five minutes of his arrival that there was something terribly wrong. Beau is normally a very happy-go-lucky, can't lick you enough dog. This morning he came in, gave a couple of licks, no jumps and went to lay down by Ole's feet in a little curled up ball. It became quite apparent that he wasn't comfortable as he would get up, turn around and lay down again, whining all the while. It also seemed very difficult for him to breathe. He seemed to be panting all the time - couldn't catch his breath.

I've had one dog die from a heart attack right in front of my eyes, and some of the symptoms were similar. But the thought that came to mind with the previous weeks' constipation issues was a twisted intestine. So I immediately called our vet - the one we've been taking pets to since 1972 - and wouldn't you know - the vet tech that is definitely NOT my favorite there answered the phone. I explained the stress that Beau was having and asked if he couldn't be seen immediately. Her response: "I'm sorry, Dr. **** is completely booked today, we have NO openings." I called several other vets, who of course were completely booked, and why should they try to squeeze me in since I've not ever been a client of theirs. The more I thought about the response I got from the tech at our vet's office the angrier I got. Don't tell me that some little dust mop scheduled to get his annual shots takes priority over an animal in distress and pain.

I called her back and informed her of such and told her that Ole was on his way into their office with Beau and I expected that he would be seen immediately. Ole told me later than when he arrived he had to wait about 90 seconds and they brought Ole and Beau back to one of the rooms. The vet was wonderful, and of course she knew nothing of how we had been "put off" by the tech. Anyway, that's not important anymore. What's important is Beau.

After a thorough exam and x-rays she was able to determine that fluid is building up around the OUTSIDE of his lungs causing his breathing difficulty. He is scheduled for an ultrasound on Monday to determine exactly what kind of fluid it is and that will answer the question of what is causing the fluid buildup. She gave Ole four possibilities. One is caused by inhaling plant material, especially pine needles, which then pierce the lung and cause an infection. The second was something similar but caused by the lymph nodes being infected. The third was heart disease and last but not least was the Big C - cancer. Unfortunately she wasn't real positive on the treatment of any of these. Yes, they do treat animals with chemo, yes they do drain fluids from chest cavities, but the results aren't always real positive. One of the treatments would require his chest to be cracked and drained, depending on what kind of fluid it is and where it's coming from.

He's on some heavy duty antibiotics for the weekend, and as much water as we can get him to drink. He's supposed to stay quiet, and you all know how much he loves to run by the truck. I just got off the phone with her (the vet) and she warned me that he could get into some serious breathing difficulty over the weekend, and told me what to do and where to take him.

I have an inkling it's going to be a long weekend at the Ole & Lena estate. If you believe that animals have a soul, please say your prayers for Beau. Even if you don't believe that, at least keep your fingers crossed for our jolly, always happy boy dogger.

Bits & Pieces & the Ya Ya Sisters

Christmas Eve sunrise in my backyard this morning - isn't it pretty? The only thing is if you believe that old wive's tale "red sky in the morning sailors take warning," we must be in for some nasty weather. The forecast for tonight and tomorrow isn't good, but at least by the time it hits we'll all be tucked in at home safe and sound.



And then this little lady came to feed at my birdfeeders this morning. She's been hanging around for several weeks now, coming every morning about 9:30 and again around 4:00 to feed. I've seen her mate only once - he's so handsome. I hope nothing has happened to him. But maybe he's being a typical male and is holed up back at "the cabin" and she's hauling all the groceries home to feed him.



My Grandma Sofie's Christmas cactus is blooming. Yup - it belonged to my grandmother who gave it to my mother who gave it to me. It's about three feet in diameter, so finding a good place for it to live can sometimes be difficult since I don't have a huge living room or dining room. It goes on a camping trip every spring when the weather warms enough and vacations outside all summer until the temps get down into the 40s in the fall. About the time it starts to set buds it's time to bring it in so it can become spectacular for the holiday season. The old gal never lets me down. Unfortunately when this picture was taken it wasn't in its full glory yet. There are a ton of buds that will open over the next several weeks, and then it will shoot out flowers off and on for the remainder of the winter. I've repotted it once in all the years I've had it, and it's so huge now that Ole has to hoist it around for me. I wonder just how old it is.


And here it is Christmas Eve. I KNEW it was coming, but I did't think it was coming this quick. Why am I always behind the eight-ball anyway. And then I choose to sit here in front of my computer wishing all you folks a Merry Christmas when I should be out there fixing food and finishing wrapping presents. Oh, well, that goes to show all of you just how important you are to me.

Last time I wrote I was looking forward to my get-together with my old school girlfriends - you know - the ones that all started first grade together and graduated high school together. Well, us Ya-Ya Sisters met last Wednesday night at the home of one of the gals. And we had the BEST time - even more fun that the first time we got together. Some of us brought pictures and we hooted and hollered until our stomach muscles were sore. We have so many connections over all those years - same boyfriends, same teachers, some of the same life experiences. Several of us had other commitments later in the evening so we called it quits about 7 o'clock, but it was really hard to leave. So we'll do it again sometime the end of January. Then I'll get a picture of what we all look like now - I promise.

I'm going to sign off now - wishing all of you a Merry Christmas. May you all enjoy it with your friends, families and fur babies. I've got to get cookin'!!

Bingle Jells, Bingle Jells

So the tree is fixed and is sparkling once again thanks to Ole's electrical genius. I put my last cards and letters in the mail yesterday. My baking is done, or as much as I'm going to do, thanks to Ole and Lars. Ole delivered some goodie trays for me this morning, I've got a couple more to put together and get delivered. I've bought my Christmas groceries. I did that yesterday and the store was already a zoo. But I still haven't wrapped my packages.

I think things are starting to come together with the exception that I still have to clean up the disaster that this house has turned into. I have one more project to work on for Lars, but I can't go into that here because I think he reads sometimes (whisper, whisper, sneak, sneak). But even if I don't get that one done until Monday that will be plenty of time.

I have a fun gathering to look forward to this afternoon - remember I told you about some old school girlfriends that got together last month and we decided to do it every month. Well, today is the day. We're meeting about 4:00 at one of the gal's houses. I'm going to go through my boxes and dig out a bunch of old pictures and bring along. That should prove to be a riot or two, you think?

So here's a shot of Ole, Lovely Daughter and Lars getting the tree put together before we discovered that it was broken.



Below are the guard doggers making sure no one steals the Christmas ornaments before they get put on the tree.


This is Lovely Daughter's newest fur baby, Medora. She's a riot. First thing she did was try to climb the tree of course.

"Can't you guys give me a bit more help here?"


I think Senior Citizen Simon had too much egg nog!!

Here's the tree in it's final state.

This is a little video I took of Ole and his chicken ornament. At least you can get an idea of how the tree sparkles. Anyway, I bought this Hallmark ornament for Ole a long time ago, just on a lark. It's three chicken sitting on nests in a coop. When you punch the button they cluck Jingle Bells. Turn up your volume and you'll be able to hear it. Leave it to Ole to be enthralled by some chickens clucking Jingle Bells.

My Christmas Tree Broke!!

You know what? My damn Christmas tree broke. Can you believe it? A broken Christmas tree.

Lovely Daughter and Lars were here on Friday evening. Ole and Lars were making more cookies and fudge and chocolate mice. Yes – I said chocolate mice. I’ll get to them later.

Anyway, they got the tree all decorated, plugged it in and Ta-Da – it was gorgeous – for about five minutes. Then all the fiber optics went out. Turned it off, turned it on, gorgeous for about five minutes and the fiber optics went out again. Wash, rinse, and repeat.

What is this anyway, that tree has only been used two seasons, this would be it’s third. It sure better last longer than that. And of course none of us thought to test it out before we got it set up in the corner and all decorated with umpty-three ornaments either. So Ole waited until the next morning so he could see better, got down on his tummy and sckootched (is that a neener?) himself into the corner and took the bottom of the tree apart without rustling one single ornament.

He discovered that the itty-bitty fan that cools the high intensity light in the base had bit the dust, so at least that’s an easy fix. The tree should be up and twinkling again this afternoon after Ole gets home from town and performs his electrical magic on it.

And this isn’t even the tree I threw out on the deck in a moment of ScandihOOvian anger a few years ago – if you remember that story!!

And then there’s my kitchen – again – it needs another thorough cleaning. Ole and Lars baked on Friday night, again on Saturday afternoon and then Ole and I baked some more on Sunday afternoon. I think I’m done now. I can’t even stand to look at another piece of fudge or a Christmas cookie, let alone try to choke one down. You know how it gets – ugh. But it’s definitely better for the waistline that way, right?
I’m sure you guys have all seen the chocolate mice I’m talking about.

They’re made from maraschino cherries with stems that are dipped in chocolate, have a Hershey’s kiss attached for a head, slivered almond ears and little beady eyes and a nose made from colored sugar. Ole presented a half dozen of them to the minister’s wife on Sunday after church. They moved into a beautiful old house that they are renovating and this fall had their share of mouse problems that she was telling us all about the prior Sunday. You should have heard her hoot when she opened the box of chocolate mice. So much fun.

We’ve already received our invitation for a New Year’s Eve party. Can’t you tell I’m so thrilled? It’s Dick and Jane’s annual event. Ick – I’d rather stay home. So we decided, after consultation with Bob & Carol, that we’d all go out to dinner together, along with another couple, Scott & Diane. After all, New Year’s Eve is Bob’s birthday, so we need to have a special celebration for him, don’t you think? Then we’ll all stop for a short period of time at Dick & Jane’s, and then come out to our house, play some cards, sit in the hot tub, etc. Sounds like a much more pleasant evening than hanging around Dick & Jane’s watching all the perverts. You can read about Tim sucking on Jane’s bare boob in front of everybody last year here – that’s if you want to be grossed out. For those of you who haven’t read me very long and want to know more about Jane, feel free to poke around in those pages so you can get a feel for what Jane is like and why I dislike her so much.

Enough of that – on to more positive things.

Today my goal is to get all my Christmas cards and letters written. I think I’m going to do a cyber post of my Christmas letter for all my friends who are on line and send a hard copy out to those who aren’t computer literate. I got a number of email letters last year and I certainly had no problem with that. I’ve never been this late getting my cards out before. I’ve always had them ready to go the first week in December and would send them out over the course of time depending on how far away they had to go. I did get my big package mailed to Big Brother on Saturday. Cost me $20 to send it UPS. It’s full of cookies, fudge, homemade salsa, homemade jellies, some Christmas breads, and Ole even included a bottle of his homemade wine. So with all the packing the box got pretty heavy.

Well, Folks, if I’m going to accomplish my goal I better get with it.

Love to you all,

Lena

Mojacks and Mojennies!!

Paula said...
"Wow...that beats Poolie's story of eating crotched gummy bears. Interesting story. I heard that people in Iceland don't have last names and that they are the best looking people on the planet."


Well now, Paula’s comment on my entry of yesterday deserves a response, that’s for sure.

The Icelandics do have last names, but they use something called the patronymic naming system. At one point all the ScandihOOvian countries did, but I believe that Iceland is the only one that has kept the system. This simply means that you take your father’s last name and add sson if you are a son and dottir if you are a daughter. So if your first name was Peter, and your father’s name was John, you would become Peter Johnsson. If you were a female and your first name was Petra and your father’s name was John you would become Petra Johnsdottir. If you’re Peter Johnsson and you have a son named Sven your son would be named Sven Petersson, and his son’s name would be Svensson or if he had a daughter she would have a last name of Svensdottir – see how it goes? Can you imagine trying to do some genealogical research in this mess?

And another thing – the phone books are all listed in alphabetical order of course – by FIRST name!!

As for the Icelandics being the best looking people on the planet I have to agree – at least as far as the women go. They are absolutely gorgeous. All tall, blond and very slender with gorgeous figures. You occasionally find a red head, but not too often. The men, on the other hand, leave a lot to be desired in the physical appearance category. Most of them are very scruffy looking, unshaven, greasy hair, etc. Most of their negative physical appearance is due to their personal hygiene, and I’m sure if that improved their attractiveness would also.

It was the custom in Iceland to wear old wool sport coats as outerwear because it never gets very cold there. These old sport coats were worn day in and day out, and regardless of what kind of a job you had. You could be a welder or a fisherman or a construction worker, but the uniform of the day was always an old wool sport coat – that NEVER went to the cleaners! So you can imagine what they started to smell like.

The Icelandic people were very kind, nice people as a whole, but there was, of course, a small faction that didn’t want the NATO base in their country. Most of them were hard-line communists and extremely vocal. None of them, communists or not, were very keen on having the American sailors hanging around with their young women because they were a nation of purists. Not only did they want to keep their race pure, but they knew that if their daughters married the American military men they would soon be taken from the country when the sailors went to their next duty station. The young girls felt differently, of course, and looked to the Americans as a ticket “out.” This NATO base was established during WWII, (there were still some buildings being used of WWII vintage) and somewhere along the line the sailors developed the nicknames of Mojack and Mojenny for the Icelandic men and women. I have no idea what the significance of these nicknames was, but they were still in use when Ole and I were in Iceland.

One year we decided to give a Halloween party – no costumes no admittance type of party. I must say there were some extremely unusual costumes that arrived. But one of the most unique had to be the guy who came as a Mojack (there’s that word again). He wore heavy work boots, dirty pants (never jeans), a slouch hat and the best part of the costume was his old wool sports coat that he had gone to the thrift store to buy. In order to make it smell bad he had drained the oil from a couple of cans of tuna fish and poured it in his pockets. We had two cats at that time that absolutely crawled all over him throughout the entire evening!! THEY loved him even if no one else wanted to get close to him!!

Here’s a picture of the Mojack and the Mojenny!! Aren’t they cute?

That's my Story and I'm Stickin' to it.

Well, then. The other day when I was filling out the Meme that I got an “incomplete” on, I mentioned that I have been an international smuggler in my lifetime. Poolie jumped right on that one and told me I had to dish. It’s quite a sordid story, so you better think twice about reading it if you don’t like sordid!!

When we lived in Iceland we chose to live off base for the entire time we were there. We thought as long as we’re in this foreign country why not take advantage of it and get the full experience. This of course, made for some difficulties, but nothing we couldn’t overcome. The biggest difficulty was buying groceries at the commissary and getting them off base. Because Iceland was such a small country and things were so expensive there, it would have been easy to disrupt the economy by taking cheap groceries off base and selling them to the Icelandics.

Anytime you went on/off base you had to pass through a guard shack with not only Marine guards, but also Icelandic police. The Marines didn’t care what you had in your car; they were just there to keep the Icelandic police in line. The Icelandic police were there to inspect your car and make sure that you weren’t smuggling anything off base that wasn’t supposed to go. There were times when we saw them tearing cars apart, probably out of boredom, or just making a power statement. They loved to use the “intimidation factor.”

Each family that lived off base was allowed so many dollars a week in “take off.” The amount depended on your rate – the higher your rank the more you were allowed, which didn’t make any sense, but that’s the way it was. You could be an E3, have two children to feed, but wouldn’t be allowed as much as an E9 who had no children. So then you’d have to take your squanty little paycheck and go out on the economy to supplement your groceries in an expensive Icelandic grocery store.

Oh well, on to the smuggling.

We made some dear friends there, John and Donna. (We’re still in contact with them and see them at least every couple of years.) Donna was of Italian descent, with a mother who used to make all kinds of homemade Italian sausage and other treats. She regularly sent a care package to her daughter and son-in-law, who were generous people and always shared with their friends because we just couldn’t get that kind of stuff in Iceland, not even in the commissary (that’s the base grocery store for you folks who don’t have a military background.) Well, one day this huge package came to their house from her mother, and she called us to stop over after work and she would send some goodies home with us.

Previously the food items that she had sent were of the smaller variety – like maybe a bunch of sausage links that could be cut apart and placed in strategic coat pockets, purses, etc., in order to get them off base. But this time everything she sent was HUGE. I guess it was just before Christmas or something so she wanted all of us to thoroughly enjoy.

Oh yes, I should also tell you that if you were going to smuggle something out the gate you had to pick your time frames carefully. After going in and out of the gate several times a day for so long you got to know the Icelandic police and which ones were going to give you a thorough investigation, and which ones would just wave you through. Now there was an Icelandic guard by the name of Slouny who had a reputation for being the toughest guard on duty, but he usually worked a daytime schedule when the traffic was heavy, or a late night schedule about the time the clubs closed. So going out the gate between 8 and 9 didn’t usually present a problem.

Now back to the large Italian sausage. This honker had to be about 4 inches in diameter and approximately a foot long. I guess that’s not all that large unless you have to figure out a way to get it through customs when it’s not supposed to go. Now under normal circumstances we would have just shoved it under the seat because the guards on duty at that time would just wave you through.

For some reason I was driving that night and Ole was in the passenger seat as we approached the gate. And much to our astonishment who should be on duty that night, NOT at his usual time – Slouny of course. He was stopping every car, sticking his head WAY into the window and giving the car a good visual search. He even opened the trunks of several of the cars and made several of the passengers get out so he could crawl into the car and feel under the seats.

We were in a line of cars waiting to go through the gate, so to get out of line, turn around and leave would have made things pretty obvious. So – what to do. Ole reached under the seat, grabbed the sausage, unbuckled his dungarees (that’s navy work jeans for you non-military), and shoved the sausage down one trouser leg, buttoned his dungarees back up and buckled his belt so that it kind of held onto the sausage and it wouldn’t slip down his leg.

Well now – we waited in line for our turn, and as we inched towards Slouny, we tried not to look guilty. I approached the guard shack, rolled down my window and Slouny stuck his head in. Then he opened the car door and asked both of us to step out. Ole got out on the passenger side of the car hoping that Slouny wouldn’t come around to that side, but guess what – he did. He asked Ole to step back from the car and proceeded to feel around the floor, under the seats and into the pockets and glove box on the passenger side. I often wonder if he couldn’t smell the Italian sausage. He probably knew it was there and just couldn’t figure out where it was. He walked around the car several times, then looked Ole up and down, stopping his glance momentarily at Ole's mid section, gave Ole a strange “knowing” look, winked at him, grinned a bit and told us to go on our way. We’ll never know for sure but maybe he spotted the bulge in Ole’s pants and thought Ole had “other” things on his mind at that time.

One Friday night a bunch of us had gotten together out at our house for an impromptu party. We were all kind of broke, and couldn’t afford to go to the Icelandic liquor store and buy their expensive beer. At that time they had beer vending machines in the barracks so we went on base, put quarters in the vending machines and stuffed our jackets up the sleeves, in the pockets, etc., with cans of beer. There were five of us stuffed into a Volkswagen beatle, and we clanked when we moved, but we were successful in getting the beer home and had lots of fun following.

One night Slouny got his though. Chief Turner was leaving base late at night, headed for home, and Slouny thought for sure he was going to catch someone who was drinking and driving. This is a very BIG no-no in Iceland. ABSOLUTELY NO consumption of any kind or you lose your license and get tossed in jail. Well, Chief Turner didn’t drink at all – ever. And Slouny had this habit of sticking his head into your window, right in your face, very close to your mouth, then asking a question so he could smell your breath. He did this to Chief Turner, and Chief Turner gave him a big smack right on the mouth. One of those with “suction” – I guess Slouny changed his tactics after that!!

I really shouldn’t make light of this because it truly was a serious matter. One friend of ours got taken in for smuggling because he had a package of gum laying on his dash that was not listed on his take off. Again, the guard was Slouny. Our friend was written up for international smuggling, fined and now has a record. It doesn’t say WHAT he was smuggling, it just says “international smuggling.” There were various other incidents too, nothing ever really serious – no drugs or that kind of stuff. But our friend who had the gum on his dash says he still has problems when he comes back to the United States after a Mexican vacation. He’s ALWAYS thoroughly searched along with his luggage so he knows it’s still on his record.

Now for a little tour of the NATO base, which, much to our dismay, closed several years ago. We always planned to go back and see it again, but I guess we’ll just have to tour Iceland again without the Base.

Approaching the guard shack

The marine is standing in the door, Slouny is at the desk.

Leaving the base headed toward the town of Keflavik.



NAVCOMSTA - the building that Ole worked in.

The Supply Department where I worked.

This was the commissary (grocery store)

The gas station - gas was 22 cents a gallon

One of the streets on base. I believe these pictures were taken in January when we had about three hours of daylight. Note the lack of snow and the sloppy, muddy conditions. It's NOT cold there, like Minnesota.

That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.

Ole has a Rude Awakening!!

We had another Alberta Clipper blow in last night. We didn’t get much more than a couple of inches of snow with it, but it made for some nasty visibility and wind chills. It blew all night long and into the morning. Shortly after 6 a.m. Ole’s pager went off and the rescue squad and fire department were called out for a garage fire. The dispatcher said the garage was completely engulfed and there were two cars inside. The nasty wind and the cold wind chills make it extremely difficult and dangerous for the firemen.

So Ole tore out of bed, jumped into his jeans, and I threw a couple of protein bars into his pockets as he passed by on his way out the door headed for the fire department. We found out later, after the fire was all over and the computer reports had come in, they had a six minute response time – that’s from the time the call went out from the dispatch office to the time the firemen got to the scene and had the pumper trucks going. Now consider, these are all volunteer firemen who have to come from their homes to the fire station, gear up, get the engines started and get to the fire.

Ole said the folks had tried to put the fire out themselves before calling it in. If they had called it in right away instead of fooling around they may have been able to save the building, but with the delay, it was totally gone.

Apparently there was a dog kennel inside the garage with a bunch of straw bedding, which had a heat lamp extended into the kennel to keep the dog warm. They got the dog out of the kennel, but the poor thing was so terrified that it bit four firemen before they got it into the house. The garage was located about ten feet from the house. The fire was so hot that it melted the next-door neighbor’s siding.

These fellas do an outstanding job and have developed a reputation that has the second best response times for volunteer fire departments in the entire county. The number one position belongs to a town about twice the size of our little village that’s 15 miles down the road. So I don’t think we’re doing to bad at all.

Now, enter the neighbor with the melted siding. Later this morning, while the firemen were still on site picking up hoses and cleaning up other things, Neighbor is heard at the post office berating the firemen. He was telling everyone that would listen to him that it took the firemen over 20 minutes to even get any water on the fire, so he sure was glad HIS house didn’t burn down. Then he trotted across the street to the Local Watering Hole for his morning coffee and started telling his tall tales over there. Only by that time it had grown to a 30-minute response time and that there was absolutely no excuse for the firemen to be so slow. The person who heard all of this immediately called the fire chief and informed him of what was happening. Needless to say the fire chief was irate. So I guess we’ll see what happens from here.

About an hour after Ole got the call, I drove into the village to see what I could see, making sure I stayed out of the way. The strong wind was making it difficult to breathe even several blocks away from the scene, and there were so many official vehicles there I couldn’t get close enough for a look. Mid morning I drove back and managed to get a shot of the garage through the alley. Ole finally got home about 11 a.m. after helping to get everything cleaned up, tanker trucks full again, and everything set for the next “event.”

And you know, when something like this happens in this part of the country, it usually happens when the weather is at its worst.
Needless to say, I’m pretty proud of our guys – not just because Ole is part of them, but they all do a super job and are all very professional.

PS: FYI the temperature this morning at 6 a.m. was 5 below zero. At that time there was a wind of 40 MPH, which made the wind chill factor equivalent to 34 below zero. Neighbor with the melted siding should try to handle hoses spraying water at those temperatures with the wind conditions. Maybe he wouldn’t be so quick to criticize, huh?

More of Lena's Secrets

Uh-oh - I've done it now!! I've been tagged by Paula over under the Tum Tum Tree, Hi, Paula (waves hand using parade wave) and this one requires a lot of thought. And being my brain is usually a bit on the mushy side this time of year - well, you'll see. I wouldn't get an "A" on this one - I'm afraid I'd get an incomplete. So here goes:

Five Things I Just Don’t Get:
1. Why some people glory in the misery of others (Jane)
2. Why George Bush gets blamed for EVERYTHING including the weather.
3. Why people don’t RSVP when they are asked to. Don’t they understand what it means?
4. Why some folks have to stretch the truth to suit their needs (Jane)
5. Why everything I eat goes to my waistline.

Other Than Money, I Wish I Had More Of:
1. Time
2. Computer skills
3. Patience
4. An interest in cooking (I’ve burned out)
5. Energy of a 25-year old

Five Least Favorite Words or Phrases:
1. The “F” word – I absolutely hate hearing anyone use it, especially females. Show a total lack of any intelligence whatsoever
2. Use of the word "Ain’t" - UGH!!
3. "I think you should have the finest of 'whatever' you can afford." (said with sarcasm)
4. "But we've always done it that way."
5. “Mean spirited Republicans” (good one Paula. There are just as many mean spirited Democrats as Republicans. And just because we don’t want to give the farm away doesn’t mean we’re mean spirited!! So there!!)

Five Famous People I’ve Spoken With In Person:
1. Ed Schaeffer – former governor or North Dakota and currently Secretary of Agriculture (he’s famous to ME)
2. Spiderman
3. Evel Knievel
4. G. Gordon Liddy
5. Sean Hannity

Five Things I Do Nearly Daily That I Don’t Enjoy:
1. Clean the cat box (Phew)
2. Vacuum dog hair
3. Empty the dishwasher
4. Cook
5. Clean up afterwards

Five Things I Wish I Had The Chance To Do More Often:
1. Quilting
2. Crocheting
3. Sleeping
4. Travel
5. Reading

Five Favorite Movie, Television or Literary Quotes:
1. “I’m older and I have more insurance.” Evelyn Couch in Fried Green Tomatoes
2. “You’ll shoot your eye out!” Ralphie’s Mom in the Christmas Story
3. “I’ll think about that tomorrow.” Scarlet O’hara in Gone with the Wind
4. “I can’t put my arms down!” Ralphie’s brother Randy in a Christmas Story
5. "Humbug I tell you, Humbug!" Ebenezar Scrooge in the original Christmas Carol


Five Things I Have Actually Done That Sound Like Lies:
1. International smuggling (I'll have to write about that some day.)
2. Worked for the Mafia in Chicago
3. Actually kept my mouth shut and temper contained when I would have liked to have "spewed" all over someone.
4.
5.


Five People I hope Will fill This Out:
1) Lovely Daughter
2) MN Lady
3) Holly
4) Shearmadnez
5) Art

Well, there you have it Folks. Have a great day - I've got a lot of miles to cover today so had best get busy.

Love Lena

Christmas with Inga

Sarah - NO - she's innocent!

Many years ago we were visiting Big Brother over the holidays when he still lived in California. As a joke, Big Brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. You know, they say Santa checks his list twice, and it must be true because every Christmas morning, although Big Brother’s son’s stocking was overflowing, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.

This particular year I took pity on him and decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at Wal-Mart, you know. I made my maiden voyage to an adult bookstore downtown. Whew – what an experience for a naïve Scandihoovian girl.

If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go, at least not by yourself. You'll only get confused. The things that came out of my mouth only showed how “uneducated” I was. I was there for an hour and once I picked my jaw up off the floor I started saying things like, "What does this do? "You're kidding me!" "Who would buy that?"

Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. All I wanted to buy was a standard, uncomplicated doll. Oh, my, what a selection there was. Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love Dolls come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry.

So I settled for Inga. She was at the bottom of the price scale and still cost an arm and a leg. And, to call Inga a doll took a huge heap of imagination.

So Christmas Eve rolled around, and with the help of Ole and an old bicycle pump, Inga slowly sprang to life.

Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with Inga's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank a glass of milk on a nearby tray. Then I went to bed and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning Big Brother yelled up the stairway to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more.

We all agreed that Inga should remain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner.

Grandma noticed Inga the moment she walked in the door.

"What the hell is that?" she asked.

Ole quickly explained, "It's a doll."

"Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped.

I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut (snicker).

"Where are her clothes?" Granny continued.

"Boy, that turkey sure smells nice Gran" Lovely Daughter said, to steer her into the dining room.

But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?"

Again, I could have answered, but why would I? (snort)

It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny, hang on!"

Grandpa, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, "Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she was Big Brother’s friend.

A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Inga - not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Inga made a noise like Ole in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa.

The cat screamed and clawed his way up the drapes. Ole passed cranberry sauce through his nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Big Brother fell backwards over his chair laughing so hard he almost wet his pants.

Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car.

Later, in Big Brother’s garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Inga's collapse. We discovered that Inga had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.

So much for Inga, but it was truly a Christmas to remember.

An AMAZING Discovery

Hey, all you Bloggers, I've made a most interesting discovery over the last six days. My computer went on the fritz, and without it, boy, can I accomplish a lot of stuff!! I have to admit that I've suffered terrible withdrawals. But all is right with the world now as the baby is back humming along.

So needless to say I'm way behind on my reading and I've got a lot of catching up to do. And heaven knows I won't even try to recreate all the stuff that's happened in the last six days - really nothing interesting, just busy, busy, busy.

I've got to get started on my cards and letters, and sending out some packages. I've already received cards from Bluesleepy and Art (thanks guys), and a wonderful surprise package from Miss Poolie - a beautiful bar of homemade scented soap. Thanks Poolie. It's almost too pretty to use.

I've done a ton of baking and fudge making that I'm going to pack up and send out to Big Brother in New Mexico. So I've got to get on that packing today.

And I've got my living room thoroughly cleaned so I'm ready to put up our tree, possibly tonight.

I won't bore you anymore but just thought I'd let you know that I'm still alive and well and still functioning for the most part. I'll make a better entry tomorrow, okay?

Love Lena

Bam, Bam, Get Out of the Cookies, Ole

I’ve got so many things rolling around in my head today I don’t know where to start writing. That’s what happens when I don’t write every day – mental things start to pile up and the old brain gets clogged. So this entry may be a bit on the convoluted side but bear with me, okay?

My last entry was last Saturday when Ole and Lars were going to bake cookies for me, and I had to run quick and get my kitchen ready for “man cooking.” WELL – they got lots of baking done. They started at two in the afternoon and I finally cleaned up the last cookie sheet about ten that night. You notice I said I cleaned up the cookie sheets - NOT the bakers (clears throat loudly – AHEM!)

They baked lots of Swedish spritz, various bars, made fudge, and then Lars wanted to make cutout sugar cookies and decorate them. I told him I would look up my cookie cutters and he could have at it. I also told him there was a reason my cookie cutters were stashed WAY back in the cupboard. They’re a lot of work.

Well, they set up their assembly line, making dough, rolling out the dough, cutting the cookies, trying to find a method that would make it easier to separate the dough from the cookie cutter, etc., etc., etc. Believe me, they had their share of troubles. When the first pan of cookies finally came out of the oven they decided to decorate them with frosting and/or sprinkles. I won’t go any farther – I’ll just leave the rest to your imagination!! Let’s just say they used up a lot of sprinkles, but not a lot of them got on the cookies!!

Anyway, Monday I put the kitchen off limits to everybody else, including the grand doggers and cleaned. And I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned some more. I even had to wash some walls/backsplash.

On Monday night Ole asked me if I needed any more cookies baked. I still have several kinds I would like made, but I kind of put him off, if you know what I mean. Nothing to hurt their feelings at all, but just stalled them, ya know? I’ll probably do a quick bake job one day when they aren’t available. Shhh – don’t tell them though, okay?

So Monday the kitchen got cleaned, and yesterday I spent the day rearranging the furniture in the living room to fit the Christmas tree in. Some folks put their tree up Thanksgiving weekend; mine gets put up when we get around to it, as long as it’s before the 24th.

I used to spend so much energy and time trying to make everyone else’s Christmas “perfect.” To the point where I ruined my own and got burned out to the point where I didn’t even care if we had Christmas or not. You all know what I mean – seems all the responsibility falls on the mother/wife in the family. At least it did in mine. I was always in a big whirlwind trying to get everything done that I thought needed to be done. All the baking, the cards and letters, decorating, shopping, wrapping, and it goes on and on with all these things we THINK need to be done. One of the things I detested the very most was putting up and decorating the Christmas tree because I always ended up doing it all by myself. Everyone else wanted to enjoy the beauty, but nobody wanted the work. One year I was SO tired and SO burned out with Christmas stuff and the fact that no one would help me set up the tree, that I really blew (sparks flying), picked up the tree, struggled to get it through the patio door, tossed it out on the deck. I then instructed Ole and Lovely Daughter that if they wanted a tree that year THEY could haul it back inside, clean the snow off of it and put it up. It lay there for several days and then one day when I came home from town the tree was set up in the living room, was decorated and lit. Not one more word was ever said about the tree that year. I still refuse to put it up by myself, and have had a lot more cooperation since that point in time. And now when it’s time to take it down, Ole UNdecorates it and we haul it down to the basement in ONE piece, stand it in a corner and cover it up until next year. No more disassembling the tree, packing it in a box and have to reassemble it again next year.

ScandihOOvians are known for being pretty laid back and not letting much ruffle their feathers. But believe me, this is one Swede/Norwegian that you don’t want to push that button because the atomic bomb will blow when pushed too hard.

I got the cutest Christmas card in the mail the other day from Art and Zipper. Zipper’s picture was inside the card, and when I read the address on the envelope again I had to chuckle. Art included UFF DA in the address! The mailman knows me Art, he knows me well.

That’s another thing I haven’t even thought about yet. Well, I guess I’ve thought about it, but haven’t gotten too far. Christmas cards. I usually write a letter and include pictures. Last year I mailed out over 70 letters and cards. The postmaster loves me at this time of the year for all the stamps I purchase. Job security, you know. This year I’m really debating whether to format my letter in Front Page, post it on the Internet and then send a link to all my friends who have Internet access. I’ll still have to print out letter and snail mail them to those who don’t use a computer, but there aren’t that many anymore. Guess I’ll have to give that a bit more thought. I got a number of cyber Christmas cards and letters last year and I didn’t mind, but I know that some folks don’t think too highly of that method.

I’ve got most of my shopping done, although there’s a few items here and there that I still need. I’ve started using gift bags a lot more to simplify my life. I can buy huge bags for a buck at the Dollar Store – so will have to stop there and pick up supplies.

Well, folks, got to close this now. I’m the chairman for a ladies Christmas party at church being held this Saturday so I’ve got to go to town and get some supplies. Pretty napkins, centerpieces, etc., you know the kind of thing.

And it’s 11:30 here and still 10 degrees BELOW zero. Better get my woolies out I guess.

PS: One more thing. I’m so excited because I’ve had a pair of Cardinals coming to my bird feeder the last couple of days. We rarely see Cardinals up in our area, so this is a real treat.

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

It's snowing heavy here today - the above picture is taken out my patio door. Senior Citizen Simon stuck his nose out the door when I was taking the picture and quickly changed his mind about going out. He opted for a nap in my still unmade bed instead. Smart cat, considering it's only 7 degrees above zero here right now.

Plan of the day is more cookies!! Lars said he wanted to learn how to make cut out sugar cookies, so I dug out my cookie cutters and purchased a good supply of sprinkles and canned squirt frosting for decorating. I haven't made cut out cookies for years simply because they're so much work. But if Ole and Lars want to do it - more power to them.

So I better make this short and sweet and go get my kitchen geared up for "Man Cooking." Unfortunately, Man Cooking doesn't include the clean up afterwards :-( Oh well, at least I'll be able to reap the benefits.

Read this over at Paula's Place, so I thought I'd do it just for fun, too

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping paper but I'm leaning more and more to gift bags to simply my life.

2. Real tree or artificial? Definitely artificial as I don't like all the needles in the carpet afterwards.

3. When do you put up the tree? About two weeks before Christmas

4. When do you take the tree down? January 2nd.

5. Do you like eggnog? Yes, but it likes my waistline too much.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? A Cinderella doll that my brother gave me the first year he had a "real job."

7. Do you have a nativity scene? YES

8. Hardest person to buy for? Definitely Ole because if he sees something he wants he just goes out and buys it.

9. Easiest person to buy for? Lovely Daughter

10. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? It came from Big Brother's ex-girlfriend a number of years ago. It was a man's white t-shirt with a big - I don't even know how to describe it - a triangular piece of watermelon fabric sewed on the the top around the neckline and over the shoulders to look like a big collar. It was SO ugly I gave it to Ole to take to the shop for a grease rag. That year she gave Lovely Daughter the same type of t-shirt only instead of fabric with watermelons on it, hers had pink pigs. OMG - where was her mind.

11. Mail or email Christmas cards? I've really been debating. I've always mailed cards but last year I mailed out over 70 and really don't want to cut my list as that's the only time you correspond with some folks. Seventy cards counts up to a lot of postage so I may do a combination this year. I'm still considering.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? A Christmas Story - you know the one - "You'll shoot your eye out!"

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? All year long when I happen to come across something that I think would be appropriate.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? No - but I certainly thought about recycling the Watermelon t-shirt!!

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Lefse with butter and sugar - also lingonberries. They're SO good.

16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Colored lights - no flashing. They remind me of neon advertising signs.

17. Favorite Christmas song? O Holy Night - it gives me goose bumps.

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Stay home at this point because Lovely Daughter lives right next door. If she ever moves away we'll definitely be traveling.

19. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer’s? Dasher, Dancer, Donner, Cupid, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Blitzen. And of course, let's not forget Rudolph.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? At this point a lighted star that I really don't like. I'm always in search of the perfect tree topper. When Lovely Daughter was little Ole used to lift her up so she could place the star on the tree. He doesn't need to do that anymore.

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Christmas Eve, but there's always presents from Santa under the tree on Christmas morning after breakfast.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? We have a radio station that started playing Christmas carols continuously, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, BEFORE Halloween!! Isn't that a bit on the early side?

23. What I love most about Christmas? The feeling of closeness among friends and family.

Now - to the kitchen!!

Aluminum Christmas Trees & Such

Art's entry today about Christmas trees brought back lots of memories. But first I have to tell you about the cookie baking marathon that took place at our house last night.

Ole loves to mess around in the kitchen (I'm so lucky), so he decided he was going to help me out by doing a bunch of cookie baking. Lars, (Lovely Daughter's fiance) had told me previously that he wanted to be in on this event because he had never baked cookies before, let alone Christmas cookies. I think he must have led a sheltered life where he grew up (a suburb of Los Angeles) because there's lots of these kinds of things he hasn't done before. So I called Lars and he trotted on over, washed his hands and dug in.

I set the guys up to bake Swedish spritz. I have my Grandmother's old recipe and they melt in your mouth. Plus I had purchased a new cookie gun last year, which is much easier to use that the old screw tube kind that I used to used.

First they made a batch of the regular almond flavored cookies in all different shapes. Then they decided they wanted to make the next batch colorful. I checked my food coloring and only had red, yellow and blue - no green. So they stirred up another batch of dough and started experimenting with color. First they put in red and decided to push it a bit farther and put in blue. Well, of course they ended up with a beautiful, rich purple. I told them if they were making Easter eggs it would have been perfect, but purple wasn't exactly a good Christmas color.

Lars was having a good time shooting cookies out of the gun. When all was said and done I packed all the cookies into containers and sent him out the door with one to bring to work this morning. Lovely Daughter called a bit ago and said that Lars had been passing cookies around his office and the ladies were RAVING about them - how wonderful they tasted and how perfectly shaped they were. "How do you get them to look so nice? My cookies are never shaped this nice." Lars' response, "Oh, I just have a knack for it!" Of course he didn't tell them he'd never baked cookies before in his life!! Way to go Lars.

I'm going to the store today to lay in supplies for more spritz, various other kinds of cookies and fudge. This time I'll make sure I have green food coloring and some of those sprinkles and some red hots. Lars says he wants to make cut out cookies and decorate them. We're supposed to have bad weather this weekend, so it will be a good weekend to be doing those kinds of things.

Art wrote about aluminum Christmas trees in his post today. They're worth a ton of money these days if you have an original one from back in the 50s and 60s. I often wonder what happened to the one we had when I was a kid. I remember you couldn't string lights on it because of possible electrical hazards, so we just decorated ours with blue balls and ribbons and then of course had to turn the rotating color wheel on it so it would look all different colors.

Don't I look cool with that space-age Christmas tree?

Then there was the year when Lovely Daughter was about 4 or 5 and we were going to have a BIG REAL tree. We have a cathedral ceiling in our living room - the high side is about 12 feet high. So we decided we'd go out to the farm where Ole spent his summers with Aunt Mary and Uncle Henry and cut a tree down from the woods.

Let me tell you, they look a LOT smaller when they're out in the woods than they do when you get them in the living room. We walked and walked through the snow and the woods to find THE perfect tree, all fat and found and bushy. Loaded it into the pickup and it stuck out of the back of the box by several feet. That should have been the clue right there, Folks, that this tree was going to be too frickin' big to put in our living room. Somehow we managed to get that fat tree into the living room but couldn't get it set up because it was way too tall for the 12 foot side of the room. I think Ole cut about 4 feet off the bottom just in order to get it upright. THEN we had to cut branches off two of the sides to get it to fit in the corner because it was so fat. Without trimming the branches off two sides to fit into the corner, it stuck out so far into the room there was no room for any furniture!! When we finally got it situated we didn't have a tree stand that was big enough to hold the tree trunk. I don't remember what we did to overcome that, but I remember we finally got the tree upright and decorated and decided that the next year we'd go buy a 5 footer!! You can't imagine how many needles a tree that size can shed!!

There have been many other stories about Christmas trees over the years. There's the year we lived in Iceland and had to order our tree in June to be shipped in onto the NATO base because Iceland has no trees of any kind. The tree was so dry by the time we got it in December that it was amazing it had any needles on it at all. Christmas Eve morning I was vacuuming and bumped the tree and ALL of the needles fell off. All I had was a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. So I raced down to the local hardware store and bought the only green plastic tree they had. There were others - one white, one aluminum and one pink, but this was the only green tree. I paid $40 for it - $40 that we just didn't have to spend, and Ole blew his stocking cap off when he found that out. But we had that tree for almost 20 years before we got rid of it.

We've used artificial trees for the most part over the years, although once in a while interspersed were real trees. Ole's always been a believer in REAL trees, but he's given up fussing about the fake ones because he doesn't like cleaning up all the needles any more than I do.

Now we've graduated to one of those trees that has fiber optics woven in with the needles, and has a color wheel in the base that turns and the fiber optics change color.

Do you see history repeating itself here? I do.

Art also was wondering what the screwiest Christmas gift was that you received. I don't know if it's the screwiest or the worst but it definitely falls into that category, and not so much the gift itself, but because of who I got it from. When we lived in Iceland we hadn't been married very long. The first Christmas we were there my mother-in-law sent me a pair of leopard-skin pajamas with FEET in them!! I've always wondered what kind of a point she was trying to make (snicker).

Okay now - let's continue this. What's the screwiest, dumbest or worst Christmas present you've ever received?

If I do it this way you'll be more inclined to answer than just pass it off (so there!). So I nominate the following to spill their guts in their blog - tell all!!

Lovely Daughter (there's method to my madness here)

Kitchen Logic

Art

Moody Gemini

Poolie (this ought to be good)

Miss Hiss

Have at it, Bloggers - I have to go to the store now and lay in supplies for the Cookie Bakers!!

Everything you Ever Wanted to Know About Lutefisk but Never Dared Ask

Well, Folks, you know it's THAT time of year again. The time when you have to resurrect your World War I gas mask when you go by the fish counter in the grocery store, or hold your breath as you drive very swiftly by the local churches that are holding their annual lutefisk suppers. All the GOOD ScandihOOvians are rubbing their tummies and salivating to the point of needing bibs in anticipation of this wonderful delicacy being served during the coming holidays. Me? I'm definitely NOT a good Scandihoovian. I can't stand the stuff. And Ole, being a Finn, doesn't hold with that kind of nonsense either.

Lutefisk starts out by hanging on racks in the dry, cool air of the ScandihOOvian countries. We lived in Iceland for several years, and fishing being the mainstay of their economy, we saw lots of the beginning stages of lutefisk.

After the fish have hung on the racks for about a year - I'm NOT Kidding - a full year, it's so dry that it tinkles in the wind and sounds like wind chimes. That's about the ONLY nice thing about lutefisk. Then it's shipped off to other countries where the good ole' Swedes and Norwegians have emigrated to, snapped up by these folks and brought home with great anticipation.

In order to reconstitute the fish it has to be soaked in lye water for an extended period of time, then it's rinsed and rinsed and rinsed. How many times have you ever been eating fish and you say, "You know what this fish needs? Lye!" Me neither.

Do you remember the green slime that used to come in an egg-shaped container? Crack open that container and let the slime run and that gives you a pretty good sense of the overall feel of lutefisk. It's one of the few COOKED fish dishes that could be described as slippery.

Every Christmas my Mother dutifully shopped and shopped for the best lutefisk she could find, and on Christmas Eve would boil it, which would spread the "aroma" throughout the house. My brother and I would run to the farthest point away from the kitchen and cover our heads with layers of blankets trying to avoid the "scent." My sister, on the other hand, along with my parents practically inhaled the stuff.

Swedish food generally isn't known for being real edible, and lutefisk is awful even by those low standards. The pickled herring isn't bad, in fact I kind of like that on occasion. But among other things there's Glog, which is a purple that doesn't occur in nature, requires an open flame and tastes suspiciously like Nyquil. I truly suspect that lutefisk is what drove the Vikings to look for Canada.

Take a look at the video below entitled What is Lutefisk, and you'll see some really silly Swedes and Norwegians that need to have their heads examined!!

Rock on, you non-ScandihOOvians. See what you're missing?

You can stop the music if you want when you play the video. There is sound on the video so it might get a wee bit confusing otherwise.

Smokin' Ole Goes to a Fire

We now have snow on the ground – several inches. And when I woke up this morning it was 5 below zero. I knew it was inevitable because we’ve had such nice, warm weather this fall, but I still wasn’t ready for it. Oh, well, I’m just very fortunate that I don’t HAVE to go out in the weather every day anymore. When it’s ugly out I can just stay home and snuggle down in front of the fireplace with a good book or a movie.

Yes, we have snow on the ground, and I haven’t seen it come that fast for many years. About 5 o’clock the weatherman started issuing warnings that there would be blizzard conditions by 7 o’clock. Normally he’ll start talking about storm conditions hours or even days ahead of time, and most times they don’t materialize. But last night he was right on the money. Lovely Daughter was on her way home from work at 7 o’clock and she said it hit like someone opened a feather pillow and started dumping in front of a very large fan. The visibility was almost zero.

You see, here it very rarely snows straight down. When it does, we certainly don’t call that a storm by any means. When it snows here it snows sideways because of the strong winds that we have in the wide-open spaces. The storm was called an Alberta Clipper and swooped down out of Canada to do its damage. Fortunately it didn’t last long and was all over with by midnight. But if you’re caught out in the open in one of these things, especially when the temperature drops like a rock to below zero with the strong winds, you can certainly lose your life and very quickly.

Every other Monday night Ole has a training session down at the fire department. (He’s a volunteer fireman, you know.) And last night was that Monday night. So all the guys had been sitting in the training room for about fifteen minutes listening to the training officer when Bleep, Bleep, all the pagers started going off. Right at the height of the storm some poor soul called in a fire. His barn was on fire and there were two fairly new tractors and a new pickup stored inside. He was just about four miles south of our little town, but the guys got all their turnout gear on, trucks started, down the road in almost zero visibility and arrived at the fire in just a few seconds over four minutes. Unfortunately there wasn’t much they could do because the wind was so strong. They pumped water on the fire to try to contain it and to keep it from spreading to the other buildings, but the barn was so far gone by the time they got there they had to let it go. Ole said it must have had a good start before the owner even saw that it was burning.

We drove by there this afternoon and it was still smoking. It was so sad to see those two great big John Deere tractors and a newer pickup just turned into charcoal hulks.

So now Ole’s got one fire under his belt.

All About JANE!!

First of all let’s take care of some business:
Yankee Chick has awarded me with the Blogger Badge. She tells me, “The blogging badge was made by Mark at Me and My Drum to be given to bloggers who make their blog their own, stay with it, interact with their readers and have fun. Mark also said that these bloggers are showing time and time again that they are true to themselves and that they ARE their blog.”

Well, Folks, I am really honored. I’ve mentioned previously that I never thought of myself as a writer in any way, shape or form, and I just started this blogging thing to see if I could do it and to entertain myself. All I can say is What you see/read is what you get. There just aren’t any facades here. Anyway, manga tusen taka (many thousand thanks), and now it’s my turn to pass it on to some other true blue bloggers. I hereby nominate: Art, MNLady, Miss Hiss, KitchenLogic and Shearmadnez. Blog on, People. If you have been nominated before, then consider yourself twice as good, okay? (Just don’t let it go to your head.)

The Big Bonfire and Barbecue went quite well on Saturday night. Ole did burgers and brats on the grille and everyone brought a dish (or two or three). Anyway, there was far more food than we could eat, so we had to all go and let it digest by the fire.

Here’s a shot of the bonfire – now keep in mind those are railroad ties stacked eight high, formed into a square that was filled with brush and tree branches. Ole said it didn’t even take any Boy Scout water to get it going, and to begin with the flames reached about 30 feet high!! Needless to say it warmed the air for quite a space around the fire so nobody got cold even though the temps were down in the 20s. You did have to pretend you were on a rotisserie though and occasionally turn your body so you weren’t done more on one side than the other!!


Now, are you Folks all ready for more of Lena’s Gossip? I just HAVE to tell you about Jane!!! I’ve been kind of saving things up for the last couple of weeks (snicker).

I’ve mentioned The Circle a number of times previously, but just to refresh your memories, there’s Dick & Jane, Bob & Carol, and Ted & Alice. You ALL know who Jane (No. 1 Bitch) is, married to the sweetest man, Dick. Then there’s Bob & Carol who have been friends with Dick & Jane for years and happen to live across the alley from them. Bob & Carol don’t have much time for Jane either, but tolerate her because Dick is such a nice guy. Then there’s Ted & Alice. Ted is another sweetheart, and Alice has always been kind of a whiner. She considers Jane her BEST friend; unfortunately Jane doesn’t feel that way about Alice. I’ve seen Jane put Alice in tears down at the Watering Hole because of the things she says to Alice. Mean things, but for some reason Alice just takes it. Something has come over Alice over the last couple of months, and she’s starting to emulate Jane. I’m not the only one who’s noticed it – Bob & Carol have both commented on it. She’s become No. 2 Bitch.

Several weeks ago a large group of us were invited over to Dick & Jane’s for a potluck and bonfire. Everyone got there at the appointed time and Dick was outside to greet everyone and get the grille going. Jane was nowhere to be seen. Someone asked about her and Dick said she was still in the house. Well, okay – maybe she’s still making preparations or something, so Carol went in to see if she could help. Carol came right back out and told me there was no way she was staying in the house with THAT wild cat. I guess she did nothing but bitch and be sarcastic to Carol. The rest of us women got things ready and THEN Jane made her entrance. She dished up her plate, sat down to eat and promptly left and went back inside the house. Carol was outside helping Dick clean up the grille and he confided in her that he and Jane had had a knock-down-drag-out fight prior to everyone’s arrival. He didn’t say what it was about, which was none of our business, but can you imagine? Maybe Jane had decided at the last minute that she didn’t want to have everyone over and this was her way of punishing all of us. Guess what – it didn’t work. We all had a great time despite her, and so did Dick with a little help from Captain Morgan!! And I certainly don’t blame him.

Then a couple of weeks ago Ole and I decided we’d have our annual Big Bonfire the Saturday after Thanksgiving and I sent out email invitations. We also announced it when we were all down at the Watering Hole having burgers one night. Dick made the statement that he hadn’t gotten all of his brush and branches burned at his bonfire so could he bring them out to ours. They live in town so have to keep their fires on a rather modest level. Of course Ole said that would be fine. That’s when Jane, who was sitting at the end of the table that night, stated in a very loud voice, “WE - - WILL - - NOT - - BE - - THERE!!” looking directly at Dick. It was quite apparent that this subject had been discussed previously as she was quite animated about it. And the look that Dick returned to her could have killed. So as far as I was concerned, they weren’t coming. I saw her a couple of times during the week and she was very cold and distant. I sure don’t know what I did to offend her, but then, like Ole said, she’s just angry at the whole world and you happened to be in her line of sight.

So Saturday afternoon came and Ole and I were outside getting things ready, and setting up tables, chairs and the grille out at his shop. I happened to come in the house about 5:15 when the phone rang. Caller ID said it was Jane and I debated picking it up, but thought better of it and decided to see what she had to say. After all, I could always just hang up on her. I answered and she was as nice as pie – was it too late to RSVP (I had invited everyone for 6 p.m.)? Was it okay if they came? Could Dick bring his brush to burn? Was there anything I needed help with? I’m looking over both my shoulders during this conversation to see if there’s someone else she’s talking to, because it surely couldn’t be ME, could it? I told her it of course it was fine – just bring themselves and an appetite and Dick’s brush. They showed up about 15 minutes later – a half hour before anyone else did. I just kept myself busy and told her to fix herself a drink and go sit by the fire. At least this time Jane didn’t take it upon herself to invite her groupies like she usually does. Maybe she didn’t have time. Ted and Alice didn’t show at all, but then Alice told me when the initial invitation went out 10 days prior to the bonfire that she wouldn’t be there because she had a cold (think about that for a minute, okay?) Of course Alice can’t go anywhere that Jane doesn’t go, and I suppose Jane didn’t have time to let Alice know that she’d changed her mind and was actually going to come out. Ted and Alice were in church on Sunday morning and neither Ole nor I noticed Alice coughing or blowing her nose!!

We really need some new friends. Bob & Carol are stable and rock solid – great people and fun to be with. There are also several other couples that join The Circle on occasion, but I think keep their distance because of Jane and now Alice.

Oh, well, we shall see what happens. One of these days both Jane and Alice are going to lip off to the wrong person – and it just MIGHT be ME!!

ADDENDUM BELOW:

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I totally completely forgot about this when I was writing this morning. I HAVE to clue you in on this too - I truly think Jane is a sicko individual - here's another of her latest antics:

I clicked the receive button on my email a couple of mornings ago and there was a very large email file that came in from Jane. I opened it - and it was a power point show of 23 pictures of HARD PORN!! All the bits and pieces and tools were taken in closeup mode in action. She sent it to Ole too. The next time I saw Bob I asked him if he and Carol had been blessed with being on her mailing list. Bob told me that she goes through this every few years and the last time she got on this kick he asked her to take his name off her mailing list. Wonder of Dick knows she does this kind of thing?