The age of Vikings

When the age of the Vikings came to a close, they must have sensed it. Probably, they gathered together one evening, slapped each other on the back and said, "Hey, good job."
- Jack Handy

The freezing grey Atlantic, taken looking east from Cape Cod on the NY trip.
Standing on snowy sand looking east towards Vikingland.

This, apparently, is an ancient Viking proverb:

"Praise not the day until evening has come; a woman until she is burnt; a sword until it is tried; a maiden until she is married; ice until it has been crossed; beer until it has been drunk."

What??
Okay, some of it makes sense, but praise not a woman until she is burnt??
Sweet percival jebus!

This weekend is going to be a bit more social for me. Had a pub crawl with the dive club last night, at which Guro literally belted me over the head for going to Sweden and not Norway. And again for suggesting that Swedes were Vikings. "Who raped all of Scotland? Who raped all of England? Norwegians! Not Swedes! Swedes are boneheads, Ian".

Tonight is Teresa's birthday, and tomorrow Alex's, so thats my three main social groups covered in successive evenings. All very efficient!

Writing this big ol' thesis is a strangely cathartic experience. This is what the last three and a half years consisted of. But of course, there's an element of fiction, because the thoughts didn't occur in this order, or this smoothly. Like old Witters says:

"After someone has died we see his life in a conciliatory light. His life appears to us with outlines softened by a haze. There was no softening for him though, his life was jagged and incomplete. For him there was no reconciliation; his life is naked and wretched."

Hmmm, so writing a thesis is a bit like being at your own funeral? The funeral of one of your aspects, anyway, and one where you get to write your own eulogy.

Deep. Too deep, more Handy wisdom from Jack required*:

I can still recall old Mr Barnslow getting out every morning and nailing a fresh load of tadpoles to the old board of his. Then he'd spin it round and round, like a wheel of fortune, and no matter where it stopped he'd yell out, "Tadpoles! Tadpoles is a winner!" We all thought he was crazy. But then we had some growing up to do.

*- hilarious pun on Jack Handy's name c/o Dockta Cok, all rights reserved.