Ceci n'est pas un blog

In case you missed it, Karla's post about the falling dollar has some nice detail and perspective.

So before the Fed cuts interest rates and the dollar gets slightly better for about 6 days, check out her post here: http://karlastories.blogspot.com/2007/11/cost-of-things.html

In fact the fincial bureaucrats in Belgium are all up in arms because the strong Euro against the Dollar means more volatility than they want and even though many countries are switching to buying petroleum in Euro (it is no longer required that petro transactions be in dollars as it used to be), Europe is still using the Dollar and the falling greenback is driving up gas prices across the EU.

Seems like it was just the other day that Bernanke was saying "there has been no change to the Strong Dollar policy" ... well, policy and implementation don't always go together.

On the plus side, my salary looks better dollars than it used to.

Recently H has discovered a new hero: Zorro (the 1974 version)

While Alain Delon is a cad and comes off pretty badly in the documentary Nico Icon, but Zorro is a great hero for a little girl and she really likes the very 70s them tune.

But in amongst making black masks and swords, I ran into a bit of a health scare.

Swelling and pain in my groin and abdomen. Ouch.

Assuming a hernia, I went to the doctor.

My doctor did a couple of interesting things this morning.

The first that he acted like a hernia is no big deal and they probably wouldn't do anything for a normal one (that can't be the policy here, can it?) ... the he ordered blood and urine tests and sent me to the hospital in cab for more tests. When the cab pulled up to ER, I thought it was his mistake and I walked around to the main entrance who sent me through the building to the Emergency Room.

Now I was nervous.

The nurses were very nice and got me all disrobed and into bed wearing little more than a thin shirt and a duvee and did another blood test. So I have now doubled the blood tests I've had in my adult life.

And then the doctor came and gave me an incredibly painful examination of my nether regions and said she's not so sure I have a hernia at all, the sonogram will have to tell us.

Meanwhile there was some debate about whether to get me on an IV right away in case I had to have surgery today. I made nervous noises and they opted to wait for the test results.

Fortunately I just started reading a new book because this was followed by a lot of waiting around. Eventually I and myvaluable belongings (but not my clothes) were whisked away to for a very painful sonogram session. The gastroenterologist (I assume that's what he is) declared that there was no hernia but still has no idea what's going on.

Then I wait.wait.wait.wait. (I would have walked back to ER but I had no pants or shoes and thought they might frown on a half naked patient pushing his own bed)

Back in ER, another urine sample and then released with a perscription for painkiller and a "your lymph nodes seem swollen and reacting to something, call your doctor if it changes, bye".

So good news but no diagnosis or root cause analysis. Everyone was very helpful.

Now I wait to see if the symptoms just automagically clear up.

Wacky day.

But now I wait to see whether anything changes and keep my mind off of it with the advetures of Don Diego fighting Colonel Huerta in Nuevo Aragon.

Today news of a possible parasitic infestation in the city water supply sent Oslo residents into a panic of boiling.

This evening there were unexplained fireworks over the harbor.

Happy Giardia Day.

Speaking of odd, started seeing hedgehogs again this week. Maybe they came out of hibernation when the cold snap didn't stick, maybe we were just missing each other in the park. The fall leaves make large gold blankets under all the larger trees. This evening I saw that the mowers had converted these great circles into stripes of shredded yellowed leaves.

Tomorrow we are joining a dugnad at H's barnehage. This is a special Norwegian word for everyone coming together and chipping in. There will be tulip planting, window washing, shelf assembling and other activities where the parents and kids will all do our parts, work together, and get things ship shape. Very often apartments or local communities will have a dugnad before the national day, May 17. The connotation of these is more like an old fashioned barn raising and less like we're just gritting our teeth to get the bad chores done. These are times of food, gossip, community, and gettin' it done. ... Still, I should add, I'm a bit nervous about our poor Norwegian skills and just how much we'll be able to follow and understand, good to meet the other parents, though.

Halloween seems to be a non´starter here. There are no references in the general stores and when I asked a group of parents, one person said that if you have a house and if you put a pumpkin out, you may get a couple of kids trick or treating. Nothing like the US. I think we are still undecided about how much we care to emphasize it, H certainly dresses up often enough (Mulan, Belle, Jasmine, princess, faerie, etc) that she might not even notice that we were dressing up for a "reason".

Sat we went to the farmer's market. It turned out to be all about organic cheese and honey with an opportunity for chocolate banana ice cream in a proper waffle cone, made from waffles made there. It was a beautiful day so we walked down to where the local shops were having an outdoor day on a plaza to show off what's available in the area. Really a lovely day to be outside and all of Oslo seemed to be spilling out of cafes with cold drinks or grilling in the parks or jus strolling among the tents trying the cheeses and browsing the clothes.

Sunday the rains swept in but we are dedicated culture goers and weren't going to miss Mela, a festival of Indian/Pakistani/Afro-pop/Reggae music with South Asian and East African food. So we stood in the rain eating tandoori wraps and listening to drummers, a bored-seeming Punjabi singer with a Ricky Martin style keyboardist, and a Euro-pop young lady who lipsynched to a recording of a voice that we can only assume is her own studio session. But the damp overwhelmed us and we went home before the traditional dancers and without trying the many desserts on offer. H was, however, quite pleased with the jugglers and her mango lassi.

Yesterday I missed most of H's cardiology appointment (see more details over at Fjordward) because we had another off-site management day. This time it was all about presenting us with important data, some leadership/culture training, and teambuilding. Because of the importance of the first part, a lot of the country managers and travelling sales leaders were there and it was nice to get to talk with more folks in person. The venue was a farm with sheep, chickens, goats, horses (including a Clydesdale), a very social small black pig, as well as the requisite old dog and young cat. Mostly I dread these things ... anything resembling camp just sort of scares me, but the competitiveness was light hearted, there was no speachifying about what each exercise was teaching us for our work life, and honestly it was just a beautiful place to be with rolling hills of well mown grass, sheep grazing picturesquely in the foreground, and a large lake catching the afternoon light. Ending with a BBQ and buffet outside, I got home well after 10pm anxious to hear what the sonograms showed of our wee girl's heart.

Switching over to media for a moment, I'd like to follow up on an earlier post expressing anxiety about whether season 2 of Sensitive Skin would be as good as the first. It wasn't. Not even close. It is still filmed and scored nicely and the cast are all dead on but my god did the writer not have a story in mind when Series 2 was commissioned. The character driven film quality is replaced by a series of discreet situations usually involving a meet-cute set up and then each episode's situation pops up in the final reel in a clumsy and unnecessarily thorough job of wrapping everything up. I'll stop there. Buy Season 1.

Currently about to finish reading Interpreter of Maladies, a really nice short story collection mostly about Indian ex-pats in the US and England and their first generation children. Lahiri writes beautifully about heartbreak and insecurity and the quiet, subtle, markers of difference and (non)acceptance. With this being such a big anniversary of India's independence and of Partition, we have seen quite a few documentary programs on TV about everything from the experiences of a Diana Rigg as a child at the end of the colonial period to how the Mumbai railway functions. But I learned maybe as much from the things people don't say in Interpreter of Maladies. Many of the stories are terribly sad but they also feel real and very well crafted.

It's actually a nice follow up to Afer Dark (by Murakami) which was a very quick read and felt like a short story in structure, simplicity, and scope of the story. Compared to Kafka on the Shore, After Dark is a very slight thing, it seems to lack weight and ambition and complexities layered upon complexities. But the characters are young, likable; I enjoyed spending their evening and into the next morning with them.