Merry Christmas!

Ho ho ho... I'm in Sweden now visiting amma and afi (my mummy's mum and dad) and my mum's big sister, Linda. A lot of things have happened since I arrived here a week ago. I went to the hospital in the middle of the night on December 22. My mummy and daddy thought it was best to let the doctor have a look at me as I was choking and spluttering from all the phlegm I've got - and I had a high fever. In the hospital they poked a thermometer up my "you know what", put a mask on my face ( so I could breathe better) and sprayed some stuff in my nose as well. The doctor told me I was a good girl and was very observent, she even gave me a sticker with "Bamse", a little bear. After all that fuss at the hospital I could finally fall asleep and boy was that a relief!

Steini, my uncle (mummy's brother) and his family came for a short visit. They drove a long way just to see me... and they loved me. I kinda like them too.

Then there's amma's dog "Depill" - a little furball who's always following me around and wants to give me a kiss all the time. He's really cute, don't know about the kissing though.

Finally, yesterday was Christmas Eve and it's tradition in Scandinavia to open all the gifts on that day. So yesterday I opened a lot of presents. All of them were lovely but to be honest, I liked the wrapping paper the best! And what's more, my daddy tells me I'm going to get even more pesents when we go to England the day after tomorrow.

From me and my family, "Merry Christmas" to you all...

The Promised Land

I left my home in Gardabaer, Iceland

Sweden and England on my mind. 

I straddled that 737, rode him past the Faroes

on across the sky so fine. 

Straight off dad bought me a through plane ticket, 

ridin' across the Atlantic clean.

And I was on that early morning flyer out of Keflavik, 

smoking in to London's scene. 

Somebody help me get out of Iceland.

Just help me get to London Town. 

There are people there that care a little 'bout me.

And they won't let the poor girl down.

Sure as you're born they bought me a silk suit.

Put luggage in my hands.

And I woke up high just west of Scotland 

on a jet to the promised land.

Working on mum's breast a la carte.

Flying over to Britain, great.

When the pilot told us in thirteen minutes

he would set us at the terminal gate.

Swing low chariot, come down easy

taxi to the terminal zone.

Cut your engines, cool your wings

and let me make it to the changing room. 

London give me Reykjavik, Iceland

354 four ten o nine

Tell the folks this is the promised land callin'

and the poor girls on the line.

 

(Hail, hail my man, Chuck Berry!)

 

Porridge

Last week was a week of "firsts:" The first time I tried solid food, the first time I tried drinking mummy's milk from a bottle and the first time my mum left me with a babysitter while she and dad went out to dinner. I didn't do too well on the eating and drinking front but I slept soundly while the babysitter was here. Not sure about that "big people's food." Mummy gave me porridge - which tasted like the piece of cardboard I was chewing on last week before dad realised why I was so quiet! Unfortunately, mum bought a big box of the stuff so I guess it'll be porridge on the menu for a few weeks to come. I'll pretend I don't know how to swallow, that should do the trick. Don't much care for that bottled breast milk either. I much prefer snuggling up to mum's warm and soft breast rather than having that plastic bottle thrust at me. And as far as leaving me with a babysitter goes, they were lucky this time. I was really tired because I had my second inoculation jab at the doctor's that morning. I didn't cry this time. I was engrossed in a good book and didn't even realise that the lady had stuck a needle into my thigh. I only noticed when she put a band aid on it and by then I had missed my chance to holler about it and give her and mum a hard time.

Turkey!

When I say "Turkey" I'm talking about the bird people eat, particularly at Christmas and Thanksgiving, not the guy pictured to the right who is my "uncle Jonsi." On Saturday Jonsi invited me, my mum and dad to his place to celebrate that most American of traditions, Thanksgiving. As you can see, Jonsi dressed for the occasion! The grown-ups ate Turkey and stuffing expertly cooked by Jonsi and sweet potatoes and other vegetables cooked by my mum. My mum ate a lot, as usual while Tryggvi just ate my finger, which made me cry. Dad was holding me a little too close to him. I thought he wanted to kiss my hand but he had other plans. I guess it was his way of showing who is boss.