Wednesday 15 May 2019

Today my sister Gill is celebrating her 61st birthday - I have no other siblings now - the others are sadly dead and gone, so my connection to Gill has become much closer as a result. Gill lives in Cambridge with Peter, her husband, a part-time Catholic priest. Their 3 daughters are now grown up and have moved away from home.

Flashback to 1958, in the Manchester area: me at 12 years of age,

 with little Gill - my little brother Steve (6) looks over my shoulder

1960: me (aged 14) in school uniform with Gill (2) in the backyard

of the family house: the family had just moved south to the city of Bristol

Gill today - a recent picture (March 31) with her daughter Lucy

09:00 The morning begins. Lois goes out into the backyard to do some gardening - the sun is shining today again, which is a little unusual to put it mildly. I'm not going to be helping her today.

I’m trying to slack off and relax this morning because I have a difficult afternoon in prospect - Scilla's U3A Old Norse group is holding its regular fortnightly meeting in the bar of the town’s Everyman Theatre. Group meetings last 2 hours and are very intense, and I have to keep my batteries fully charged in preparation - yikes!

11:30 Lois comes back into the house. We get a phone call from the local post office and its affiliated newsagent’s. They say that this month's edition of the Peter Rabbit children's magazine has arrived, so we drive into the village and park in the car park by the now closed Kings Arms pub.

flashback to January - the sadly closed Kings Arms pub

This will be our last visit to the post office - it closes tomorrow. The owner is retiring and she has not yet got round to putting the business on the market. Sob sob !!!!

Our village is dying, no doubt about that. Even the old “Bakery Stores”, where the Queen Mother used to stop on her way to the Gold Cup, is up for sale.

We pop into the post office and pick up two copies of the magazine, and by the way it's nice to have the opportunity to say goodbye to the post office staff. We go home again. We will be sending the magazines, as usual, to our 5-year-old twin grandchildren in Perth, Australia.

The two copies of the Peter Rabbit children's magazine,

which we will be sending to our 5 year old twin grandchildren in Perth, Australia.

Great free gifts on the cover - I'm so jealous of those kids ha ha ha!

12:00 We have lunch and afterwards I go to bed and take a short afternoon nap. I get up at 1:15 pm and take the bus into town. I get off in front of the M&S department store and walk around the corner to the theatre. I meet up with Scilla in the theatre café on the ground floor and have  a cup of coffee with her.

But the group's other members (Kath and Margaret) do not appear for some reason. I suspect they both sent Scilla emails saying  they could not attend today’s  group meeting, but Scilla probably did not even look at her emails, as per usual. She is crap at coping with the administrative side of her group, to put it mildly.

I try to persuade Scilla to abort the meeting, but I can see that she doesn't want to. I suspect she is quite lonely, and these fortnightly meetings are the highlight of her existence, but that’s something I'm not completely sure about. The jury is still out on that one.

Yikes! An old Norse meeting with only me and Scilla - damn!

Kath and Margaret are not here and cannot share the translation work with me. Damn (again) !!!

I am absolutely sure that I will feel completely washed up, and reduced to a limp rag by the end of the meeting. And so it turns out.

14:15 We go up the stairs and settle down in the theatre bar. The meeting starts. The group's current project is Njal’s saga, written in the 13th century in Iceland, although the saga itself and the events described in it are much older.

The group has so far reached the start of chapter 44. I read the text aloud, one sentence at a time and then translate it into English, and Scilla corrects my mistakes. By the time the meeting ends at 4:15 pm, I have read out, and translated, the whole of chapter 44 and half of chapter 45 - yikes!

I ask Scilla about "Malcolm", an "Irishman" who pops up unexpectedly in the saga. The saga-author writes that Malcolm doesn't have many friends. Poor Malcolm !!!!

I have felt an immediate connection with Malcolm. I myself do not have very many friends - not surprising considering that I study Old Norse language in my spare time. But it doesn't bother me at all, the fact that I have few friends, which is nice. However, it may be that Malcolm is actually a bit of an extrovert and would have liked to have had more friends if possible.

The saga-writer teller categorises Malcom as a slave, or a thrall, to use the language of the time. But the writer also says that Malcolm doesn't seem to do much actual work. I don't blame Malcolm, frankly - being a thrall in Iceland in the 9th, 10th, and 11th centuries was a bit of a crap job, to put it mildly!

Being a thrall in medieval Iceland was a crap job, to put it mildly.

Note that the thrall always walks at the back and has to carry a bunch of crap sticks 

- poor thrall !!!!

Scilla believes that Malcolm might have been a Scotsman, rather than Irish. For Vikings from Scandinavia, both Scotland and Ireland were convenient stop-offs on their way to Iceland, where they could pick up (mostly) women, to take them on the journey - they could not face the thought of having to travel to Iceland without being able to have sex with somebody or other, either on board their little ships and on their lonely farms after they arrived there. And that’s why today's Icelanders are so different genetically from the other Scandinavians - they all have a massive Celtic element in their DNA.

16:15 Finally, I persuade Scilla to put an end to the meeting. I'm totally washed up as I predicted - damn! I take the bus home, and Lois and I relax with a cup of tea and a piece of cake on the sofa.

Lois shows me the beautiful bouquet of flowers that Sarah, our daughter in Perth, Australia, sent her today. Yesterday was Mother's Day in Australia (and the US and Canada), although our own Mother's Day in the UK and Ireland is in March, for some reason. The concept of Mother's Day was developed in the US, so we have no excuse for changing the date - at least that’s what I think. Call me crazy if you want to ha ha ha!

Later in the evening I take this picture of our daughter Sarah’s beautiful bouquet of

flowers, which she sent Lois for Australian Mother's Day

18:00 We have dinner and afterwards Lois has to go out. She wants to attend her sect’s weekly Bible class taking place tonight in Tewkesbury library. It is amazing how much more confident Lois has become  in the last 2-3 weeks when it comes to driving - usually it has mostly been up to me to drive her here and there, especially in the evenings. It helps that the evenings have become much lighter now that the earth is spinning towards  its summer solstice. It is now still fairly light at 9 o’clock  in the evening, which is nice.

20:00 I have some alone time and I try on my new sweater, which the postman delivered today, the one I ordered from woolovers.co.uk the other day.

me in my brand new sweater from woolovers.co.uk

I believe this sweater is the key to my becoming more popular. But we'll have to see - time will tell!

21:00 I watch a bit of television, the latest episode of "First Dates".

Halfway through the programme, Lois comes back from Tewkesbury and we see the rest of the show together. We are both very disappointed to see that the "diminutive" (only 5 foot tall ?) Becky from Oxford has to suffer yet another failed date for the second week in a row. We both think that she is yummy - and although she is super-short, she has a lot of meat on her, which is nice.

During the date she asks David what kind of work his mother does and he replies that his mother is a social worker, working with children with special needs (autistic children and the like), which is the same work that Becky herself does. Becky then makes the mistake of saying, "God, I'm your mother!".  A casual throw-away remark, that she instantly regrets.

When the couple are interviewed at the end of the date, David admits that he would only see her as a friend - there was no romantic chemistry between them, he says.

Poor Becky! Lois and I can see clearly that she really really fancied Dave. Better luck next week, Becky – my god!! What's wrong with these men that they don't snap her up while she’s available (while stocks last ha ha!). She’s gorgeous, we think.

22:00 I go to bed ("zzzzzzzz"), but Lois needs to relax and unwind after tonight’s  stimulating Bible class - she stays up and watches a bit more television.

Danish translation

I dag har min søster Gill sin 61. fødselsdag – jeg har ikke andre søskende mere – de andre er desværre døde og forsvundne, så min forbindelse til Gill er blevet meget tættere som følge af det. Gill bor i Cambridge med Peter, sin mand, en deltids katolsk præst. Deres 3 døtre en nu voksne og er flyttet hjemmefra.

Tilbageblik til 1958, i Manchester-området: mig på 12 år sammen med lille Gill –

min lillebror Steve (6) kigger over min skulder

1960: mig (14) i skoleuniform med Gill(2) i baghaven af familiens hus:

familien er lige flyttet sydpå til byen Bristol

Gill i dag – et nyligt billede (den 31. marts) sammen med sin datter Lucy

09:00 Formiddagen begynder. Lois går ud i baghaven for at lave lidt havearbejde – solen skinner igen, hvilket er lidt usædvanligt for at sige mildt. Jeg hjælper hende ikke i dag.

Jeg prøver at holde fri og slappe af i formiddag, fordi jeg har en vanskellig eftermiddag i vente – Scillas U3A oldnordiske gruppe holder sit regelmæssige fjortendagsmøde på baren af byens Everyman-teater. Gruppemøder varer 2 timer, og er meget intense, og jeg er nødt til at holde mine batterier fuldt opladede – yikes!

11:30 Lois kommer tilbage ind i huset. VI får en telefonopkald fra det lokale postkontor og den samhængende bladhandlerforretning. De siger at denne måneds udgave af Peter Rabbit-børnemagasinet er ankommet, så vi kører ind i landsbyen og parkerer i den nu lukkede Kings Arms-pubbens parkeringsplads.

Dette vil være vores sidste besøg til postkontoret – det lukker i morgen. Ejeren går på pension, og hun har ikke nået at sætte forretningen på markedet endnu. Hulk hulk!!!!

Vores landsby hendør, ingen tvivl om det.  

Vi smutter ind i postkontoret og henter to eksemplarer af magasinet og det er rart at få muligheden for at sige farvel til postkontorets personale. Vi kører hjem igen. Vi vil afsende magasinerne, som sædvanligt,  til vores 5-årige børnebørn i Perth, Australien.

De to eksemplarer af Peter Rabbit-børnemagasinet,

som vi vil afsende til vores 5-årige børnebørn i Perth, Australien.

Flotte gratisgaver på omslaget – jeg er meget jaloux på de der børn ha ha!

12:00 Vi spiser frokost og bagefter går jeg i seng for at tage en kort eftermiddagslur. Jeg står op kl 13:15 og tager bussen ind i byen. Jeg står af foran M&S-stormagasinet og går rundt om hjørnet til teatret. Jeg mødes med Scilla i teatrets café i stueetagen og drikker en kop kaffe med hende.

Men gruppens andre medlemmer (Kath og Margaret) dukker ikke op af en eller anden grund. Jeg mistænker at de begge to sendte Scilla emails, hvor det stod, at de i dag ikke kunne deltage i gruppemødet, men Scilla ikke gad kigge på sine emails, som sædvanligt. Hun er en skovl til at klare sin gruppes administrative side, for at sige mildt.

Jeg prøver at overtale Scilla til at afbryde mødet, men jeg kan se, at hun ikke har lyst til at gør det. Jeg mistænker, hun er ganske ensom, og disse fjortendags-møder er højdepunktet af hendes eksistens, men det er jeg ikke helt sikker på. Juryen er stadig ude om det.

Yikes! Et oldnordiske møde med kun mig og Scilla – pokkers! Kath og Margaret er ikke her, og kan ikke dele oversættelsesarbejde. Pokkers (igen) !!! Jeg er helt sikker på, at jeg vil føles helt slået ud, ligesom en karklud, ved slutningen af mødet. Og således viser det sig.

14:15 Vi går op ad trappen og sætter os til rette på teatrets bar. Mødet starter. Gruppens nuværende projekt er Njals saga, skrevet i det 13. århundrede i Island, selvom selve sagaen og begivenhederne er meget ældre.

Gruppen er hidtil nået op til starten af kapitlet 44. Jeg læser teksten højt  en sætning ad gangen og oversætter den til engelsk, og Scilla retter mine fejl. Når mødet kl 16:15 slutter, har jeg læst hele kapitlet 44 og halvdelen af kapitlet 45 – yikes!

Jeg spørger Scilla om ”Malcolm”, en ”irlænder”, der popper uventet op i sagaen.  Sagadigteren skriver, at Malcom har ikke ret mange venner. Stakkels Malcolm!!!!

Jeg har følt en umiddelbar forbindelse med Malcolm. Jeg selv har ikke særlig mange venner – ikke overraskende i betragtning af, at jeg studerer det oldnordiske sprog i min fritid. Men det generer mig slet ikke, at jeg har få venner. Det kan imidlertid være, at Malcolm faktisk er lidt af en ekstrovert, og gerne ville have flere venner, hvis muligt.

Sagadigteren kategoriserer Malcom som en slave, eller en træl efter det daværende sprog. Men sagadigteren siger også, at Malcolm ikke foretager sig ret meget. Jeg bebrejder Malcolm ikke, ærligt talt – dét, at være træl i Island i de 9., 10., og 11. århundrede var lidt af et skidt job, for at sige mildt!

dét, at være træl i det middelalderlige Island var et skidt job, for at sige mildt.

Læg mærke til, at trælen altid går bagest, og må bære et bundt skidt stokke – stakkels træl !!!!

Scilla tror, at Malcolm måske var skotte, snarere, end irlænder. For vikinger fra Skandinavien var både Skotland og Irland bekveme stop på vej til Island, hvor de kunne afhente (for det meste) kvinder, for at tage dem med på rejsen – de kunne ikke se i øjnene muligheden for at skulle rejse til Island uden at kunne have sex med en eller anden, både ombord på deres små skibe og på deres ensomme gårde, efter de ankom dertil. Og derfor er nutidens islændinge så anderledes genetisk fra de andre skandinavere – de har alle et massivt keltisk element i deres dna.

16:15 Endelig overtaler jeg Scilla til at sætte en stopper for mødet. Jeg er helt slået ud, som jeg forudsagde – pokkers! Jeg tager bussen hjem og Lois og jeg slapper af med en kop te og et stykke kage i sofaen.

Hun viser mig den smukke buket blomster, som Sarah, vores datter i Perth, Australien, ”sendte” hende i dag. I går var morsdag i Australien (og USA), selvom vores morsdag i Storbritannien og Irland er i marts, af en eller anden grund. Begrebet på morsdag var udviklet i USA, så har vi ikke nogen undskyldning for at forandre datoen – det synes jeg i hvert fald. Kald mig vanvittig, hvis det har du lyst til ha ha ha!

Senere på aftenen tager jeg dette billede af vores datter Sarahs

smukke buket blomster, som hun sendte Lois i anledning af den australske morsdag

18:00 Vi spiser aftensmad og bagefter skal Lois ud. Hun ønsker at deltage i sin sekts ugentlige bibelklasse, der finder sted i aften i byen Tewkesburys bibliotek. Det er forbløffende, hvor meget mere selvsikker Lois er blevet i de seneste 2-3 uger, når det kommer til at køre bil – normalt har det været op til mig at køre hende her og der, i sær om aftenen. Det hjælper, at aftenerne nu er blevet meget lysere, nu hvor jorden spinder mod sin sommersolhverv. Det er allerede nu stadig i en vis grad lyst kl 21 om aftenen, hvilket er rart.

20:00 Jeg har lidt alenetid, og jeg prøver min ny sweater, der postbudet leverede i dag, dén, jeg forleden bestilte fra woolovers.co.uk .

mig i min spritnye sweater fra woolovers.co.uk

Jeg tror, at denne sweater er nøglen til, at jeg bliver mere populær. Men vi får se!

21:00 Jeg ser lidt fjernsyn, det seneste afsnit af ”First Dates”.

Halvvejs i programmet kommer Lois tilbage fra Tewkesbury, og vi ser resten af showet sammen. Vi bliver begge to meget skuffet for at se, at den ”diminutive” (kun 5 fods høj eller deromkring?) Becky fra Oxford skal lide endnu en mislykket date, for den 2. uge i træk. Vi synes begge to, at hun er lækker – og selvom hun er super-lille, har hun en masse kød på sig, hvilket er rart.

I løbet af daten spørger hun David, hvad slags arbejde hans mor laver, og han svarer, at hans mor er en socialarbejder, der arbejder med børn med særlige behov (autistiske børn og lignende), hvilket er det samme arbejde som Becky selv gør. Becky gør så fejlen af at sige, ”Gud, jeg er din mor!”, en afslappet bemærkning, hun øjeblikkeligt fortryder.

Da parret bliver interviewet ved slutningen af daten, indrømmer David, at han ikke betragter hende som en ven – der var ingen kemi mellem dem, siger han.

Stakkels Becky! Lois og jeg kan se klart og tydeligt, at hun sværmed virkelig for Dave. Held og lykke til næste uge, Becky – du godeste. Hvad er galt med disse mænd, at de ikke snupper hende. Hun er pragtfuld, synes vi.

22:00  Jeg går i seng (”zzzzzzzz”), men Lois trænger til at slappe af og geare lidt ned efter i aftens stimulerende bibelklasse – hun bliver oppe og ser lidt fjernsyn.