Well, this past week I managed to get fantastically ill. That doesn't actually really do justice to the degree of unwellness which I experienced, but as this is a Family Blag,* I'll spare you the really unnecessary details. Suffice it to say, from about Monday night through this morning, I was alternately shivering and sweating in my bed, softly mewling like a beaten kitten as what meagre defences my immune system could marshal fought off the invaders.
They probably would have had an easier go of things had I not won a drinking contest on Wednesday night and then went to Snæfellsnes on Thursday morning. Now, for those of you unfamiliar with the geography of Iceland, Snæfellsnes is about three hours north of Reykjavik. This, of course, means it's a touch chillier than my temporary urban dwelling location. Also windier.
Keep both of those in mind as you read what I'm about to type next:
Our initial plan was to go around Borgarness, maybe pop down to the coast for a bit, and then get to Helgafell and see the grave of Gúðrún Ósvífrsdóttir. As such, I didn't bring a jacket, just my lopapeysa and gloves. Had we only gone to Helgafell, then that wouldn't have been an issue.
However, Helgafell was not our only stop. No. We went to Snæfelljökull, Arnastapi, Dritvik, Borgarness, and visited Reynhildur's uncle's farm, where he makes hákarl.
Now, none of that sounds too bad, right? Except for that part where I mentioned Snæfelljökull. For those of you not up on your Icelandic (or your old school Magic: The Gathering cards**), jökull means glacier. Now, we didn't go all the way up on the glacier; that was around 8km from the base. No, we just climbed up to Sönghellir and looked around for a bit. And by 'we,' I mean myself, Paul, Myriam, Barbara, and Reynhildur. It was gorgeous, no doubt about it, but the cold and wind conspired to make that climb the hardest 1.3km I have ever walked in my life.
Now, that being said, you people had better appreciate what I had to go through to get the following pictures.
*In that my mom and dad read it.
**See this card; when it comes for all-or nothing destruction, you can't go wrong with it.
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26 February 2012
20 February 2012
I should probably endeavour to update this thing more than twice a month
You'll note, though, that I said "should," which means that it probably won't happen.
Ah, well. Some of you still come by, whether out of duty, respect, morbid curiosity, actual interest, or random chance. Either way, thanks for that.
So, what's been going on the last couple of weeks here in the land of Ice and Snow?
Well, for one, it's been rather bipolar, weather-wise, here. I was originally intending to take a bunch of photos showing the complete lack of snow and ice after the last update but, alas, it would seem as though Iceland decided to thwart my plans, what with it suddenly snowing over the last couple of days. The weather is alternating between that nice, late-winter mildness and the mid-winter, bone-chilling cold that makes your exposed skin burn when you come into a building with even a mild amount of heating. I, personally, can't really decide which of the two I like more.
School-work proceeds apace, with my Old Norse Religions course having two more tests and an essay (which I should really get working on) before we're done with it; Paleography has a trio of projects before our massive (70%!) final at the end of the term, and Old Icelandic has it's midterm exam next Wednesday. Of course, I am suffering from a bout of academically existential dread over the exam. While I am getting better at my translations, my grasp of the grammar is still tenuous at best, amateurish to be accurate, and completely inept if I were being harsh on myself. In more positive academic news, I've decided on an idea for a thesis* and I'm just waiting now to hear back from a potential advisor.
Shifting gears, albeit in not as radical a way as it might first appear, Saturday was not only the first game of Pathfinder I've ever run (and the first game I've run in over a year, generally), but it was also Ásdísarblót.** After Ásdís departed for drinks, mutual friend of David, Ryder, and Johanna named Magda showed up with belated cheesecake and a loaf of delicious marbled cake-like-object. While hanging out, it was brought up that Magda's PhD work is, essentially, a much more advanced version of what I want to do for my thesis and she's even got the same advisor as I was hoping for, which is awesome. And then Siobhan called, asking if we wanted to partake in an adventure.
This was, of course, a silly question for her to ask. I have never turned down adventure in my life. So with remarkably little cajoling and convincing, David , Ryder, Hayley,*** Magda, Johanna, Siobhan, Anna,**** and I went off northward in search of Aurora Borealis. Unfortunately, a sudden snowstorm barred our northern advances and we were forced to turn back. After a while, though, the snow let up and we ran around a rather mountainous hill. There may or may not have been a troll spotting as well, but that's something speculative which I will have to store in my "go back and check it out" file for now.
That's about it, really, for the past two weeks; mostly studying, with the rare bit of high nerdery and mid-grade adventure thrown in. This week, though, being a week off of Old Icelandic, promises to have more fun. We (Paul, Ásdís, Liv, and I) are hoping to go skating on Tuesday, and Paul and I are trying to organize a roadtrip on Thursday. I also may have talked myself into an endurance-based beer-drinking contest with Magda scheduled for Wednesday night. That may or may not end poorly for me. We'll see.
*Basically, it's writing the descriptions for chapter on Polearms in Dungeons and Dragons: Early Medieval Scandinavia.
**I like to name birthdays, apparently. For example, I have Jimmas, Ásdís gets Ásdísablót, Siobhan has Siobhannukah, Hana gets Hanadan, etc.
***Another Canadian, from BC, and a friend of Johanna's.
****Possibly? I forget, mostly because I'm a terrible person like that.
Ah, well. Some of you still come by, whether out of duty, respect, morbid curiosity, actual interest, or random chance. Either way, thanks for that.
So, what's been going on the last couple of weeks here in the land of Ice and Snow?
Well, for one, it's been rather bipolar, weather-wise, here. I was originally intending to take a bunch of photos showing the complete lack of snow and ice after the last update but, alas, it would seem as though Iceland decided to thwart my plans, what with it suddenly snowing over the last couple of days. The weather is alternating between that nice, late-winter mildness and the mid-winter, bone-chilling cold that makes your exposed skin burn when you come into a building with even a mild amount of heating. I, personally, can't really decide which of the two I like more.
School-work proceeds apace, with my Old Norse Religions course having two more tests and an essay (which I should really get working on) before we're done with it; Paleography has a trio of projects before our massive (70%!) final at the end of the term, and Old Icelandic has it's midterm exam next Wednesday. Of course, I am suffering from a bout of academically existential dread over the exam. While I am getting better at my translations, my grasp of the grammar is still tenuous at best, amateurish to be accurate, and completely inept if I were being harsh on myself. In more positive academic news, I've decided on an idea for a thesis* and I'm just waiting now to hear back from a potential advisor.
Shifting gears, albeit in not as radical a way as it might first appear, Saturday was not only the first game of Pathfinder I've ever run (and the first game I've run in over a year, generally), but it was also Ásdísarblót.** After Ásdís departed for drinks, mutual friend of David, Ryder, and Johanna named Magda showed up with belated cheesecake and a loaf of delicious marbled cake-like-object. While hanging out, it was brought up that Magda's PhD work is, essentially, a much more advanced version of what I want to do for my thesis and she's even got the same advisor as I was hoping for, which is awesome. And then Siobhan called, asking if we wanted to partake in an adventure.
This was, of course, a silly question for her to ask. I have never turned down adventure in my life. So with remarkably little cajoling and convincing, David , Ryder, Hayley,*** Magda, Johanna, Siobhan, Anna,**** and I went off northward in search of Aurora Borealis. Unfortunately, a sudden snowstorm barred our northern advances and we were forced to turn back. After a while, though, the snow let up and we ran around a rather mountainous hill. There may or may not have been a troll spotting as well, but that's something speculative which I will have to store in my "go back and check it out" file for now.
That's about it, really, for the past two weeks; mostly studying, with the rare bit of high nerdery and mid-grade adventure thrown in. This week, though, being a week off of Old Icelandic, promises to have more fun. We (Paul, Ásdís, Liv, and I) are hoping to go skating on Tuesday, and Paul and I are trying to organize a roadtrip on Thursday. I also may have talked myself into an endurance-based beer-drinking contest with Magda scheduled for Wednesday night. That may or may not end poorly for me. We'll see.
*Basically, it's writing the descriptions for chapter on Polearms in Dungeons and Dragons: Early Medieval Scandinavia.
**I like to name birthdays, apparently. For example, I have Jimmas, Ásdís gets Ásdísablót, Siobhan has Siobhannukah, Hana gets Hanadan, etc.
***Another Canadian, from BC, and a friend of Johanna's.
****Possibly? I forget, mostly because I'm a terrible person like that.
06 February 2012
In which a Secret Shame is revealed
So, much has happened this week!
Well, not much, but you get the point. Things happened, I will inform you of them.
First off, I have apparently placated the huldufólk which have been plaguing my culinary and gustatory endeavours; the loaf of bread, shortcake monstrosity, and bacon-wrapped, maple-mustard glazed ham all turned out fantastically! Mark's suggestion of a thinner loaf with deeper cuts worked, and I have discovered which butter is salted and unsalted (surprisingly, by looking at the ingredients on the package - I'm kind of an idiot at times, apparently), which made the shortbread monstrosity much better. Mostly because it didn't result in a salty brick of baked good.
And bacon makes everything better, despite what Erin and Ryder may think. The fools.
Speaking of food, I also received a care package from my folks, containing prosciutto, Calabrese salami, Crotonese and Friulano cheeses, maple syrup, wasabi peas, bacon marmalade, and tobacco. Also, Nutella. It was like finding a gift from the gods, wrapped in a box, delivered by UPS. Not going to lie, half of the cheese and salami is gone. The prosciutto, on the other hand, weighs literally 2kg and as such has not been reduced by such a great amount. The Nutella is untouched as well, as a way of gauging how quickly my flatmates will surrender to temptation.
Also, speaking of temptation, I have experienced a loss in my burgeoning collection of pipes. Well, not a total loss; the tenon of my churchwarden has broken off inside the mortise, leaving the stinger lodged in there.* I need to pick up some fine, needle-nosed pliers tomorrow and hopefully pull it out, resolving that issue.
Finally, I admitted my Secret Shame** to several people this evening, who then blabbed about my possessing of a Secret Shame, although without going into any detail, which of course will only serve to increase the rampant speculation, so in order to abrogate any wild theories, I might as well just out myself now. No, not that kind of outing. This is much less interesting, and kind of ridiculous. The Secret Shame is that I've started watching the new My Little Pony show. It's fantastic and, as Ryder pointed out, essentially aimed squarely at my demographic and, by extension, the same demographic of most of us in Medieval Studies. Specifically, the "born in the early-to-mid 80s, chronically unemployable/underemployed and thus watching cartoons all the time" demographic. And, in all fairness, the woman behind the show worked on The Maxx (someone else has to remember that), and The Power Puff Girls, so she knows how to make good TV.
Anyway, with that, I should be off; much studying to complete for a test this afternoon. More updates in the future, possibly with photographs. Assuming, of course, I take any more between then and now.
*For an explanation of these terms, look here.
**Which, by definition, is no longer a Secret Shame - instead, now it is just a regular shame. And as I don't really feel shame, only guilt, all is good now.
Well, not much, but you get the point. Things happened, I will inform you of them.
First off, I have apparently placated the huldufólk which have been plaguing my culinary and gustatory endeavours; the loaf of bread, shortcake monstrosity, and bacon-wrapped, maple-mustard glazed ham all turned out fantastically! Mark's suggestion of a thinner loaf with deeper cuts worked, and I have discovered which butter is salted and unsalted (surprisingly, by looking at the ingredients on the package - I'm kind of an idiot at times, apparently), which made the shortbread monstrosity much better. Mostly because it didn't result in a salty brick of baked good.
And bacon makes everything better, despite what Erin and Ryder may think. The fools.
Speaking of food, I also received a care package from my folks, containing prosciutto, Calabrese salami, Crotonese and Friulano cheeses, maple syrup, wasabi peas, bacon marmalade, and tobacco. Also, Nutella. It was like finding a gift from the gods, wrapped in a box, delivered by UPS. Not going to lie, half of the cheese and salami is gone. The prosciutto, on the other hand, weighs literally 2kg and as such has not been reduced by such a great amount. The Nutella is untouched as well, as a way of gauging how quickly my flatmates will surrender to temptation.
Also, speaking of temptation, I have experienced a loss in my burgeoning collection of pipes. Well, not a total loss; the tenon of my churchwarden has broken off inside the mortise, leaving the stinger lodged in there.* I need to pick up some fine, needle-nosed pliers tomorrow and hopefully pull it out, resolving that issue.
Finally, I admitted my Secret Shame** to several people this evening, who then blabbed about my possessing of a Secret Shame, although without going into any detail, which of course will only serve to increase the rampant speculation, so in order to abrogate any wild theories, I might as well just out myself now. No, not that kind of outing. This is much less interesting, and kind of ridiculous. The Secret Shame is that I've started watching the new My Little Pony show. It's fantastic and, as Ryder pointed out, essentially aimed squarely at my demographic and, by extension, the same demographic of most of us in Medieval Studies. Specifically, the "born in the early-to-mid 80s, chronically unemployable/underemployed and thus watching cartoons all the time" demographic. And, in all fairness, the woman behind the show worked on The Maxx (someone else has to remember that), and The Power Puff Girls, so she knows how to make good TV.
Anyway, with that, I should be off; much studying to complete for a test this afternoon. More updates in the future, possibly with photographs. Assuming, of course, I take any more between then and now.
*For an explanation of these terms, look here.
**Which, by definition, is no longer a Secret Shame - instead, now it is just a regular shame. And as I don't really feel shame, only guilt, all is good now.
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