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Ceci n'est pas un blog

trials, travels, and travails

Molly Ivins

I assume you all know by now that Molly Ivins finally passed.

She was a reason for hope that Texas could be so much more than the good old boys who have been in charge of late.

To their credit, Bush and Perry made gracious statements.

''Molly Ivins was a Texas original,'' Bush said in a statement. ''I respected her convictions, her passionate belief in the power of words, and her ability to turn a phrase. She fought her illness with that same passion.''

Texas Gov. Rick Perry, whom Ivins had playfully called ''Governor Goodhair,'' praised Ivins for her wit and insight. ''Molly Ivins' clever and colorful perspectives on people and politics gained her national acclaim and admiration that crossed party lines,'' Perry said in a statement.

I don't know who will take on the role of successfully goading the right and pointing out their follies in the nicest and sharpest barbs imaginable. I went looking for a good quote, and there's too many to choose from. Her last column was a call for Americans to not sit idle but to take action every day, to show our outrage with this administration, to make "the ridiculous look ridiculous."

Sounds like good advice at this time of Extraordinary Rendition being called to court in Germany, Gonzalez finally revealing something (anything) about NSA wiretapping, Gitmo detainees finally getting some sort of hearing and potentially being able to challenge the nature of those hearings. And with the '08 race under way, I think we have an opportunity.

I don't know who I will support yet. I hope it's a good debate and that we get a lot of opinions and that we actually get to hear them all.

And I know we'll miss Ivins sniping intelligently and provacatively from her home in south Austin.

snow, fram, being social, work, devon

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Snow
H loves the snow. She stops every few feet to throw herself down or make snowballs to throw at me. She makes snow angels and then tramples them trying to get up and see what she has made.

We went shopping the day the snow came in sideways. We tried to push the stroller through the rising drifts and keep the wind and wet sticky snow out of our eyes. It was beautiful but difficult. We had tea and watched it snowing, coming down in lateral gusts, laying down a bright quiet blanket.

The next day was like a festival in the park. Children with every sort of sledding device imaginable gathered along all the high paths to come screaming down to their chatting parents. It was on this day that I met the New Yorker with the Newfoundland named Kelvin, one of a small handful of dogs larger than ours. When Tosca and Seamus wrestled, Kelvin would let out a thunderous bark clearly trying to say, "guys, don't play so rough, knoock it off".

The dogs love snow. A lot. They leap and bound and eat it and wrestle and generally exhibit more energy than at any other time. Tosca in particular can go into an atavistic celebration of her inner wolf, leaping upon her larger companion and rolling Seamus into a snow bank.

On one post-snow day there were at least 9 strollers or prams in from of a nearby bakery cafe. Our neighborhood is full of children and dogs. The kids in our building made snow forts almost a meter high somplete with flags for their back yard snow ball fights. The concrete futball pitch down the block has been cleared of snow and flooded to make an ice rink for people who don't need rails and have their own skates.

Fram
We went to see the Fram. This is the ship used by the polar explorer Nansen in his attempt on the North Pole and then later borrowed by Amundsen for his Antarctic expedition. Nansen is one of those superheroic men whose survival abilities and knowledge and drive are so far beyond anyone you will ever meet that they seem to be a different species. Knowing they could not break through te ice, Nansen designed the ship specifically to survive getting stuck in the ice and then planned to let the natural drift carry them close enough to the pole that they could ski in. It was quite fasinating but it definitely helps to have done a bit of homework before going.

We also went to the maritime museum next door. My wife has a bit of a fetish for shipping disasters. It was mostly a dingy building filled with aging models of freighters, the carpets threadbare and it's organization not entirely clear. They had a pleasant film showing footage from the lemgth of the Norwegian country side on a wrap around screen but even this felt a tad dated and designed more by the tourism board than a maritime curator.

The Fram and many other museums are out on Bygdøy, a rural/suburban peninsula connected to Oslo right near downtown. There are large open fields, horses, many many many museums, residential neighborhoods with a village feel, and some unspoiled forest just a few bus stops from city center. Our trip was affected by the absolute pouring rain that caught us on our way back (this was before the winter wonderland weather arrived.

Being Social
We aren't always very good at being social. But the wee miss H needs other kids and so I got involved in the office Jultrefest planning. This is a sort of post Christmas party that culminates in singing songs around the tree and calling for Santa who shows up (looking remarkably like the CEO wearing a white beard) to deliver small gifts. We had a good time and met a bunch of other parents at the office and H chased around a little girl named Ruby.

Since then, S and H have been in touch with Ruby and her mom and been to åpen barnehage (like a drop-in pre-K where a parent stays the whole time) for a play date. Ruby's mother, being an American emigre, has also been super helpful with advice. She's a former Montessori teacher who has done a metric tonne of research into all the various child care / education options.

Work
Interesting turn at work, my team and responsibilities more than doubled this week. At the moment, I think I will really like having the visibility into these additional projects and locations (a couple of the folks are based in the Linköping office in Sweden). It happened very quickly; perhaps 4 work days between "here's a possibility" and "it's a done deal".

Devon
Yay. Our books and art and few small pieces of furniture have arrived in Norway. Still at the docks, they should be delivered on Monday. We did have a bit of a scare though when we turned on the news and saw footage of a cargo ship listing heavily, containers being spilled into the sea. Containers exactly like the one holding our stuff and not unrealistically far. We spent 5 concerned minutes confirming that this particular ship was not on any route tat could affect us. However, a woman in Stockholm who is relocating to South Africa saw looters on the Devon coast "salvaging" her belongings from a container that had washed ashore.

Blog
Sorry for the long break between posts. It happens that way sometimes.

tease

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On S's birthday we received an offer on our house back in Texas. It wasn't spectacular but even the tiniest profit and getting rid of the mortgage payment we are making on top of our not insignificant Oslo rent would be good.

But the buyers got cold feet when their inspector gave them a frightening and not particularly accurate report. Despite our attempts to put them at ease, they have backed out. So now we re-list and wait some more and scrimp in the mean time.

***

H just curled up with me and said, "you have to click the 'H'" so now I have.

This one is from her: H

"I like H, it is my favorite. It is your favorite, too."

***

The dogs are loving the smattering of snow we have had; they bite it and roll in it and leap about. It's still warm by Oslo standards but it's good to finally have things at least looking a bit like Winter. Branches are frosted and puppy paw prints are scattered across yesterday's snow like pepper on an empty plate.

Now I have to go because we are making pretend Macaroni and cheese with bread and ketchup followed by cake with strawberry icing with a cherry on top. The pretend tea is a bit too hot but othewise just perfect on a cold and cozy morning. Tea parties are ever so important!

vignettes from the year's end

As we approached our first Christmas in Norway, the glittering hoarfrost was driven back by a light warm rain, no snow in site.

Before the thaw I saw two boys standing on an ice covered brook banging holes into it with a large branch. This seems unwise but they survived without crashing through.

In our new apartment with so many fun toys still wrapped and hiding underthe tree, I made a cardboard and foil sword for our tiny Mulan/Pirate/Robin Hood/Peter Pan/Princess-with-Attitude. Many a duel resulted in her triumphant cry of "Touché" and my writhing on the floor in the gravest of mock-agony death scenes.

Unlike most Norwegians, we chose to celebrate our presents on Christmas morning. H woke up very late crying and uncomfortable and generally ill. For a 3.75 year old to express no interest in Santa or presents, we knew this to be a serious affair. After some comforting and falling back into a tearful sleep, she rose bright-eyed around 1:00 for lunch a lovely afternoon of present opening.

Gifts from America and from Santa and from her parents were all met with glee; each one considered and played with and enjoyed before moving on to the next. She loves her puzzles and pirate ship and tinker toys and dress-up doll and the "I'm Not Cute!" book has become required bed-time reading. She warmed quickly to the book of Van Gogh art and we were pleased that upon receiving her first Barbie branded toy, said "look, a dolly" and mostly she just ends up as a hostage to the pirates.

Our amazing neighbor had given us each a gift that was personal and thoughtful and chosen or made specifically for each of us.

A few days after Christmas we went to a colleague's apartment for an amazing dinner. The couple are amazingly well-read and well-travelled and basically among the most well-rounded geeks available. H took quite a while to open up but eventually the two lovely kittens, Ada and Linus (did I mention that they are proud geeks), drew H into their play. What had been an easy-going and fun night out took a turn as we realized that one of the kittens had gone missing. The small apartment was turned over and as we realized that there were no hiding places left, the only possibility remained that he had managed to get outside. After searching and searching on a bitterly cold evening we eventually left, worried and unsure whether this baby cat would survive. That night signs were posted and our hosts didn't sleep but, ever resourceful, Linus appeared late the next morning. He was even warm having found someplace to hide.

We spent our 5 year anniversary with another couple. We went out for Vietnamese/Thai. When H was around 19 months old she loved Pad Thai and adopted it as something of a battle cry. She would run around the house yelling "PadThai!" but now she's fairly cool on the idea and reported that this was too spicy. The owners of the restaurant were throwing a big birthday party for one of their friends or relitives and there were asian children running around everywhere. H was intrigued but rather than chasing after them, played with our friends and wanted very much to go home with them.

On S's birthday, also known as New Year's eve, we celebrated with pancakes, lingonberries, and a trip to the park. But I should explain that New Year's eve in Norway is unlike anything you may have seen before (unless you are Norwegian). The park seemed attractive to us as it is a wonderful high vantage point over much of the city in all directions but to the local residents it is the front line in their drunken battle against order, quiet, sobriety, and an injury free existence. Hundred and hundreds of over-dressed urbanites flocked to the park with the sorts of pyrotechnic explosives that any other country would ban and set them off at all angles and with no semblance of a strategy. If someone was not actively standing on a spot, then that spot was used to set off a massive missile. It was the loudest place I have ever been. It was also startlingly beautiful to be in the middle of this fussilade, mis'fires going off at eye level, intentional low flying trajectories. The dogs were so good in doors that we took them with us but the incessant booming and chaos of drunken packs of people terrified them and I raced them back home where their shakes could subside.

I spoke to my sister on her wedding day. They were headed to Costa Rica for a honeymoon and required visits to his family there. While sad to have missed it, I am happy for them and wish them all the best.

And now, while there is more to say , I have said enough and will head home to entertain my most silly and amazing child with pirate ships and dueling and broccoli power versus candy power battles.

PS: there's holiday pics in the Photos section

ketchup

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It's been a while since my last update. Having the family here means I don't linger at work to play online as much as I did and, well, we've been busy catching up, playing, exploring, and shopping.

The first few days we sat on the floor and ate picnic style. Even when our unbelievably kind and generous neighbor passed along an old drop leaf table, we only had the one chair I'd been using. As you can see, we now have a big comfy Ikea sofa that came in many small pieces and which we assembled late one night. Ikea is equal parts perfection and frustration. It takes a long time to get to the free bus and to time everything so you get back at a reasonable time (they are a good 25 minutes outside the city). The items range from cheap pressboard to quite expensive and sturdy. And they are specifically designed for you to linger and meander, which can be difficult the first time you are there and all you want is a plate and a pillow.

We also went down to see the Picasso exhibit at the National Gallery where S also got to see some very nice Munchs. The Picasso show was small but tightly focussed on his later drawings, mostly simple single-subject ink line drawings but also a few with classically arranged groups, usually including a minotaur. Our little miss H didn't really respond to these was but very curious about all sculpture (ranging from classical Greek to Degas to Henry Moore). She seemed to think that photos aren't art and wanted to get back to the paintings.

H is a good walker and we have pretty much carried her or let her walk since day one but we come from Texas Car Culture (tm) where distances are measured from the parkinglot or driveway. After carrying her sleeping dead-weight or exhausted fussiness, we finally got her a stroller. It has really saved us on some of our longer walks but is very difficult to manage on the tram/busses and encourages her to be a little less engaged with what's going on around her; she can pull her scarf up to her eyes and her hood down and zone. But on the whole, it's been well worth it and really freed us up to be able to shop and get around without worrying about her little legs or having to carry her + groceries up our flights and flights and flights of stairs.

Oslo is warm and bright. It is above freezing for the first time in about a week, maybe 5C. We are past the longest night of the year and the daylight should be getting longer by several minutes a day until 6 months from now when we will be spray painting our windows black in the hopes of getting any sleep. One of the really nice things about the short days we've been having is that I have seen so many sunrises. I had always preferred sunset to sunrise but lately the dogs and I have been able to stand on the frost covered hill and watch the sky turn from dark navy blues to deep pinks to yellow highlighted clouds against pale blue sky, the fjord beneath us turning from slate to shining mirror. It's strange to me that with just the humidity and fog we accumulate well over a quarter inch of frost on the ground and cars. With no rain or snow, the park is flocked in white and windows must be scraped. Tosca loves to run on the frozen leaves, the crunching under foot. The colder the day, the more excited the dogs are to be outside.

Did I mention that our neighbor is amazing? She is a professional Bohemian making her living from decoupage, sewn paper art, and renting booth space to other vendors at the weekly market in Blå, a local jazz club. She has loaned us not just the table but a kilim rug, two stools, a small bookshelf. She has allowed the dogs into her flat, which her 13 year old daughter loves, and been friendly and helpful. As S put it, she seems to be single handedly trying to tear down the stereotype of cold introverted Norwegians who are difficult to get to know.

The holidays are upon us. While we are glad to be together and looking forward to our first Oslo Christmas, our 5th anniversary, and S's birthday, we are really going to miss our family and friends and our traditions with them. With everything move realted so pushed back and the house not having sold yet, I will be missing not just any vacation to see relatives but my sister's long awaited wedding. I have known her fiancee since he was a little boy and our families have long been fast friends and intertwined. The happy couple have been together a long time, built a house together, worked together, travelled, moved to Hawaii and back. So this event is more of a public acknowledgement and celebration than the transition it can be for so many people. But that doesn't make it any less important. We will climb the hill, watch the fireworks erupt all over the city from every backyard and street corner and toast the new year and the celebration 5000 miles away.

There's so much more to chat about: the different way Norwegians decorate their trees, the choice they are given as a teenager between Confirmation in the church or Ethical Humanism, about seeing a crate of clementines for the tiny sum of 25 kroner just after reading about illegal migrant workers being exploited to pick clementines in Italy. But it's time to wake the family, make breakfast, and do a bit a shopping before the stores close for the next 3 days. A lady at work was talking about that special sense of calm and relief that a Norwegian gets when they know there's enough cream in the house. That's our goal for the day, to achieve the contentment of a full larder before a holiday.

God Jul Y'all!

pastry makes you strong

Hooray. The family has arrived.

Their travel was relatively uneventful. S. managed to bond with an obstinate clerk over an obscure british radio performer which resulted in a better transfer arrangement. There was no concessions at O'Hare unless they went out and came back through security from scratch, which they were unwilling to do. But overall travel went smoothly. SAS treated them beautifully and even brought the wee one her own little sleeping bag.

I took Thursday off to orient them and we were rewarded with a sunny day. And so we walked and chatted and caught up and H. fell asleep in my arms as we crossed the palace grounds. The view from the hill down to the harbor was wonderful, the holiday shoppers were out in force and the town bedecked in all it's Jule tide goodness. We managed a bit of shopping and grabbed some Santa Lucia Lussekatter for snacks.

After they had been here a few hours and she had walked around a bit, H. announced, "yes, Daddy, I do like our new apart ment." She always says apartment as if it were 2 words.

That first night they fell into a long deep slumber and now seem to be pretty much on Norway time. Our neighbor has been great. She's a professional Bohemian single mom who runs a Sunday market in a Jazz club and makes crafty art to sell, including one to Sharon Stone the other day. She gave us a table, offered up a bed for the kiddo, and opened her home to the dogs.

When I left this morning, S. was online with the baby curled up in her lap eating day-old Lussekatter. Drowsily she proclaimed this universal truth: "Pastry makes you strong."

What a terrific kid.

And so now the travel part is over and the acclimation begins but so far, everyone is settling right in. We even got Christmas presents from Iceland to put under the tree.

nobel cause

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Every year the Nobel Prizes are awarded in Stockholm in a variety of fields from literature to economics. All but one. When Afred Nobel set up the awards given in his name, he specifically asked Norway to select and deliver the Nobel Peace Prize even though all the others are granted by a deliberative body in Sweden. He was not explicit about why he made this choice but one theory is that it was the Swedes who made cannons using his dynamite technology and he was making a statement that this was not acceptable and he would not entrust the Peace Prize to his countrymen.

This year the Peace Prize went to Muhammad Yunus and the organization he founded, The Grameen Bank. This is an excellent organization who pioneered micro credit. Their model has been adopted by micro-credit banks around the world. Grameen initially and primarily funds women who make less than $100 per year with unsecured loans to start a small business. They have to report regularly and are given some coaching in the management of their money. Many of the women, who primarily come from rural villages, found that simply buying a cell phone and renting time on it to other villagers without access to a phone has been a successful enterprise. Interestingly it has also helped village commerce since farmers are now able to find out the price of their commodities in other areas in real time.

As one woman explained to a Bangladeshi reporter, every year the people of Oslo hold a torch-light procession and gather in front of the Grand Hotel to let the winner know that the people support the choice and support the winner. Sometimes, she said, not everyone agrees and the people will gather somewhere else to protest the committee's decision. Karla pointed out that this can be a lot of fun. And so Sunday night, I ambled down to the Grand to get a glimpse of the action. I've put up a new album of pics from the experience.

Arriving early, I saw Mr. Yunus arrive by police escorted limo and take time to shake hands with the well wishers clustered around the doors. As the procession was not due for some time, I ambled over to the open air ice skating and along the main pedestrian street, half hoping to find the parade at it's start. I did manage to catch it en route and joined the crowd for the walk and in applauding the laureate and his wife when they emerged onto the lower balconey of the hotel. He was visibly moved by the tribute. Since the Grameen Bank is run by the very people it helps, several of the so-called phone ladies are on the board and I believe it was these women who joined him on the terrace, waving and smiling at the crowd who cheered him and sang songs.

Like the woman interviewed for Bangladeshi TV said, "this year, everyone agrees it was a good choice."

¤¤¤

On a radically different note, although not a discordant one, I am thrilled and nervous and as happy as a Hokkaido snow monkey in a thermal spring. Tomorrow is Family Reunification Day! My wife and kidlet arrive in Norway at long last and I am just bursting to see them. It's been over 10 weeks since I left little miss H. crying at the Houston airport. She is growing up and understands that we will see eachother soon but she has been worried that Santa may not be able to find her because of the move. We will surely convince her otherwise :). I'm taking Thursday away from the office in order to orient them in the town. Hopefully the sunshine will hold and they will be able to see their sparkling new home in its best light.

The old house is just about completely vacated, our belongings are either stored, sold, or on their way by land and by sea. Once we sell the old casita in Texas, the move will truly be complete.

dog anecdotes

Poop Interuptus: Yesterday Seamus had been looking and looking for the perfect place to poo. You can tell when he moves onto the grass and slows way down that this is what's about to happen. So he has spent a long time sniffing and circling and walking somewhere else and finally he's content and in a happy place, he has clearly found his spot. But just as he assumes the vulnerable and humiliating half-squat position, a beautiful young girl dog sidles up to him and sits down right next to him and looks him in the eye. She is flirting up a storm and he looks like he might be blushing underneath his fur as she bats her eyes and makes submissive gestures. So of course now he can't go and it take another 15 r 20 minutes of walking for him to feel he might have enough privacy to try again.

Otto: Last night the fog was positively Baskervillian. The thick damp air smelled slightly of smoke from the neighboring fire places. You could watch it settle and eddy around lamp posts and trees. It dampened all sound into a hush. We made our way through the shrouded paths up to the top of the park. I could see that there was someone standing across the fountain from us. But then a giant enthusiastic chocolate flat coated retriever bounds out of the fountain, which is turned off for the season. This leaping dark monstrous puppy turns out to be Otto and he wanted to play with Tosca so badly. He licked her face, he tried to mount her, he ran around her, he tried licking her face again. Wag, wag, wag, smirk, drool. She was not having any of it, she snarled and barked and told him to shove off. When Otto's person asked if she was a bitch, I started to get defensive until I realized what he was asking. Then Tosca went and tried to make nice with his owner as if to say, "it's not you, it's the dog, you're ok". Otto, undeterred ran over and mounted Seamus who just ignored him as if he was a gnat. When Seamus wouldn't play he ran back over and tried kissing Tosca again. No luck. His owner knew the English for "persistent" and we agreed that this defined the puppy.

Phrase book: I need to learn the Norwegian phrases for "how much does he weigh?", "how big is he?", and "what breed are they?" since I get asked these several times a day.

Baby: The other day as we entered the park there was a great caterwalling. A baby in his mothers arms sounded as if he had fallen, his family had left him, he was lost, he hadn't eaten for 9 weeks, all at the same time. The mother held him and tried to talk him down but as we approached he caught sight of the big fluffy hunds and went silent, transfixed by the dogs. He watched everything they did and wouldn't take his eyes off them. As we passed them and went on down the pathways we never heard him resume the wailing, just the sight of their giant goofiness was enough to pacify the most upset child.

transmission

It's been great having the dogs here. Even with the constant rain and the muddy paws/dirty floors that result. We walk to the center of the park which is only a couple blocks away but maybe the equivalent of 8 to 10 stories up. Everytime they see a duck they want to give chase. They met a black chow mix and exchanged business cards. An American colleague is headed back to Seattle this weekend and will return in January with his dog - hopefully we can arrange some play dates.

In between all this excitement, I managed to finish Transmission by Hari Kunzru whose first book, The Impressionist, was well received.

This book is an easy read, quick and clever. It's about an Indian IT worker in America, a Bollywood rising starlet on location in Scotland, and a marketing executive who talks in a sort of extreme bullshit bingo version of marketing-speak. It's about a computer virus unleashed to do a small but perceptable amount of damage that ends up affecting the lives not just of these characters but of the businesses and services and more all around the world.

What's good about this book is that is a quick read, moving back and forth among an increasingly large cast of characters fluidly. There is a lot of humor and satire and I think does a decent job of talking about the software issues with enough detail to be credible but not so much that it's dated or anyone in the industry would just laugh at the technobabble. One thing I particularly liked was that all sorts of ancillary characters get their own story and point of view across. The marketing exec's attractive but cold girlfriend with a job in PR becomes a major character about whom we end up knowing more than Leela, the actress at the center of the book.

What's frustrating about the book is that he doesn't really commit to it being a humor/satire piece and so the more charicatured people end up not quite fitting in with the more realistic people. Arjun's boss at a Redmond anti-virus company is clearly overblown for comic effect but his tattooed, bi-sexual, casual drug user colleague, Christine, is actually not so far off the mark from some people I've known. I found myself wishing he had gone all-out extreme satire or reined in these fringe characters to a slightly more real-world plausibility. The other problem is that the IT culture is a tad out of date. In 1998, I think this would have really rung true. It seems to be taking place right at that moment when opportunities started to change from "we'll fund anything" to "you ought to go start generating some revenue before calling a venture capital company". Things haven't quite gone bust across the board but there's an nasty sucking sound approaching and lots of people are caught along the way that might have felt more convincing if he had just explicitly set the book a few years earlier.

Overall: a fun quick read with some genuinely great moments and a fair amount of humor (mostly at the expense of the all-spin-and-no-substance global brand imagineers) and some real pathos in the plight of a high-tech immigrant worker whose dreams of silicon valley riches are dashed on the jagged rocks of visa requirements and the near indentured servitude of the body-shop who brings him to the States. At his best Kunzru captures these disparate worlds and the vast context differences between them in a quick witty sketches and clever turns of phrase. At it's weakest, he goes for the easy charicature instead of shading in the personalities with more unique detail and ambiguity. I genuinely liked how the cast seemed to grow and minor characters that I expected to learn nothing about suddenly had a backstory and a motivation and a connection to someone else.

the hunds

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The dogs have arrived in Norway.

I rented a ginormous van to collect them. Seamus is 135 pounds (61.23 kilos) and his crate is four feet tall, it had to be modified since the biggest commercially available crate wasn't big enough to provide the required head clearance. Tosca is a comparitively dainty 73 pounds (33.11 kilos) and has a smaller but still large crate. So I needed something big and Rent-a-Wreck had just the thing. Big enough to fit the two crates side by side.

Oh and it was my first time to drive in Oslo.

Fortunately I was able to recruit a navigator, interlocutor, and lifter of heavy things. Karla looked quite fashionable in boots, turtle neck sweater, and belted rain coat despite having promised to wear vans and a bandana and do her best Fast Times impersonation.

And so we drove uneventfully out to Lufthansa Cargo at Gardemoen airport. The dogs flight was late and then they have to visit the vet and then come to cargo and then we can take them. 40 minutes later I ask someone who runs to the back for what seems like a long time and upon returning says that, yes, the dogs have arrived and would I pay this large fee and then go over to customs in another building down the block.

OK, I knew there was a fee and I had some cash and several credit cards on me. But they won't take foreign plastic (at an international shipping counter, that seems naïve) and I haven't brought enough cash, naturally there's no minibank for miles. Karla swooped in and saved the day, making up the difference.

Trotting over to customs we worry that they might have some sort of tariff based on weight and breed or something. Customs has a huge deserted lobby, very modern and clean and sort of lonely for the clerks who wait for the courier in a hurry or the dog owner who can't speak their language. That would be me.

"Did you just buy these dogs?" "Do you live in Norway? and do you plan to stay here for a while?" "Just what kind of dogs are these?" "How long have you had them?" Each of these followed by running to the back to consult and then asking the next question and going to the back. It was like a buying a car. But then, this: "Oh, I see they were allowed into Germany on the way here. Ok, then." STAMP STAMP SIGN "You can have your dogs now. Go back to the Cargo Building."

Cargo Lady sends us "to the back" which turns out to be a Tartus like doorway into a much bigger space. Speed-demon fork-lift drivers whisk items from place to place in a madcap whirlwind of zipping this way and that. Some with huge pallets full of boxes. Some with one tiny little parcel. As they approach each doorway they reach out and tug a rope hanging from the ceiling to open the door - they do not slow down. We see no one to talk to - just little forklifts heading this way and that. Zip zip zip. But a door is found and a man takes my papers and tells us to go back to the front, the dogs will be brought out.

I maneuver the behemoth of a van over to the cargo bay doors (every geek loves to be able to use those words). Soon a little forklift whizzes into view carrying a giant crate with a giant dog inside. Seamus has a big goofy grin on and seems to like this part of the trip. Tosca arrives a minute later looking quite skeptical about the whole thing.

After letting them stretch their legs for a bit we decide not to disassemble the crates here but to transport them whole and with dogs inside. Everything goes flawlessly thanks to Karla saving me from the toll booth we encounter after I've given all my money to the document processing cargo people.

The apartment is a 4th floor walk up. In the middle of each flight Seamus has a panic attach and tries to turn around and go down. Tosca on the other hand is charging up stairs like little Timmy is in trouble and needs her help. Somewhere in all of this Karla bangs her knee and the 13 year old from across the landing is shocked and awed by the great fluffy beasts moving in next door. She and her friend can't stop the giggles.

We ditch the crates in the courtyard. Every building in Norway has a courtyard. By this point it has been about 3.5 hours since we went out to get the puppies and we're starving. One Pad Thai later and I've got to get Karla to a train station, refuel the diesel beast, and get it returned by 5:00. And it's rush hour. And Raining. And very dark (sunset is at 3:12). But we manage and it goes well until I realize that I've left my jacket and umbrella in the apartment and don't have cash for the bus.

But all's well that ends well and after a wet slog home the dogs got their walk in the park and I got the crates disassembled and stored away. They are needy but otherwise fine and really enjoyed their walk even though the rain meant muddy paws and bellies, for which I had prepared with super cheap towells from Max.

Today was the fluffy vanguard, portents of family to come. My wife and daughter arrive almost exactly a week away. It will be nice to all be in one country again. I mean Skype is great and all but it just ain't the same as being there.