Hvordan oppdra en nordmann

Every once in a while the cultural differences between me (a Pacific Northwesterner) and my husband (a Norwegian) become glaringly apparent. Take today, for example. Yes, the sun is shining. But that doesn't mitigate the fact that it is -15 celsius (that's a mere 3 degrees Farenheit). So what does a rational person do? I vote for sitting inside wrapped in woolens and knitting with a fire in the wood stove. KE on the other hand thinks this is a perfect day to be outside with E, skiing in the yard (that's still rational) and sitting in the sun. As in sitting still. In frigid temperatures. The man is insane, and so too, I'm afraid, is the boy. Here's proof:

Funny thing is, they actually seem to be enjoying themselves. All I can say is "cultural difference"!

Meanwhile, I'm progressing on Graystone. I've made it though the gargantuan cowl neck, and am about halfway through the raglan shaping:

As far as I can tell I haven't screwed anything up yet. I'm really curious how that over the shoulder cowl is going to look on me, and whether my neck will get cold... I'm also a little concerned about how that visible seam at the round join is going to look on the finished garment. I didn't think about that when I decided not to make the diagonal cable. I'm not sure if that seam would have followed along with the cable or not (I think not), and all the versions of this sweater that I've seen have been so dark that the seam wasn't visible. Time will tell, of course.

I also have really spectacular news to report: as of Thursday, I now have permanent residency in Norway! I got the notice earlier this week, and took the train from Oslo down to Ski (the administrative center for where I live), and got the permit added to my passport. In the end, after all that strife about language competency, it was totally painless. I can't even begin to explain what a relief this is! It means no matter what happens (barring ridiculous criminal behavior on my part, I suppose) the state can't separate me from my kid. I won't get deported. I can lead a normal life here (almost) just like anyone else. I think I'll even start being able to vote in local elections, which will be great, since I've always been such a firm believer in participating in the political process.

Operasjon støvletter

Let's talk about shoes, shall we? I have had a life long love/hate relationship with shoes. My Grannie trained me early to be very aware of stylish shoes (and purses, and wallets...). Some time in college I realized that I was fighting a losing battle with style, and opted out of the whole shoe fetish culture in favor of comfortable, practical shoes. At a certain point, fashionable and so-called "sexy" shoes just stopped looking appealing to me, and instead I was just perplexed over why people continued to wear them.

But that doesn't mean that I went over to the dark side of Footform shoes and Birkenstocks. I actually can't wear Birkenstocks because their insole doesn't even come close to matching the contours of my feet, which always shocks people. Here in Norway shoes, particularly in winter, are even more important. I can no longer just wear various Dansko styles throughout the year like I did back in the Pacific Northwest.

I have made do with some profoundly ugly Merrell winter boots for the past two years. One of my first days at work a Danish colleague took a look at them lying on the floor in my office (I change to indoor shoes at work during the winter) and exclaimed "Sikke børnesko!" (basically "look at these kiddie shoes!" in the mocking tone that Danes use for everything). I was mortified, and ever since I've carried out a low level but intense search for "grown up" winter boots that I can wear on the streets of hipster Oslo without too much embarrassment.

My search has been hampered not only by my problematically atypical feet, but also, it turns out, by my robust calves. It turns out that my calves are about 5cm larger in diameter than the standard for women's boots. I am not a particularly large person, but I am admittedly curvy. But still, if you look at my legs, I'm pretty sure I don't look like Popeye.

This week, I think I finally found the perfect winter boots at the best shoe store in Oslo, Lille vinkel sko.

They're called Albertville, and are made in elegant Italy but designed in Sweden for "Nordic conditions" as they say. They have a natural rubber sole, which is supposed to be good on ice and snow. They are real leather, and what's more lined with real leather, so they stretch and give and breath. And to facilitate the process of squeezing them over my meaty calves, I was given a magic leather relaxer spray, which seems to be helping.

I'm thrilled! Now I can finally wear skirts again, plus I can stop feeling so damned dumpy all winter long...

Vinter

Check out my new winter hat!

Anne's post on winter made me want to write about winter too, especially since I'm experiencing a real one for the first time in a long time. The weather has turned spectacular here in the Oslo region -- brilliant sunshine, bone-cracking cold, and mounds of pristine snow. If winter has to be cold (a proposition that I, as a Pacific Northwesterner, question) at least let it be like this.

What I don't like: the layer upon layer of outerwear it takes just to step outside the door; the limits to my mobility (I don't really ski, don't yet know how to bicycle on ice, don't yet feel comfortable driving, have trouble walking on the icy sidewalks, etc.)

What I do like: the briskness; the silence; the sound of walking on snow (especially snow on the wooden ferry landing at Aker brygge); the minimalist look of our yard covered in snow; the good excuse for doing tons of knitting.

I can't say that I experience the wild seasonal swings that Anne does. I'm a bit envious! But I'm basically a very even-keeled person. I'm also a basically comfort seeker. I like summer because it takes less effort to dress for it and because there are berries and flowers around. As long as I'm comfortable (not too hot, wet, or cold), I'm not all that affected by the season.

Yesterday was a strange day for me. I had a very short work day, since KE was sick and I needed to help out more with E. But it was also incredibly productive. I have had two articles languishing for quite a while now, and both had deadlines at the end of January. My nasty cold knocked me off schedule. I hate missing deadlines and am usually early for everything, so this was really eating away at me. For some reason, both of them finally came together yesterday. I know neither of them is as good as it should be, but luckily I have the luxury of getting editorial feedback and a round or two of revisions, so I'm hopeful that they'll eventually turn out decent.

One is the Anne Holt article I've mentioned earlier, and the other is an article on Erlend Loe's Doppler and Volvo lastvagnar. I have no idea whether the journal I submitted it to will accept it, and I'm a little anxious since I go against the mainstream of what has been written to date about this particular author (I find him very nuanced and intelligent, while he is usually disparaged for being totally superficial). I wrote it in Norwegian since it was based on my job talk for the position here in Oslo. That is getting easier and easier for me to do. I've learned that as long as I don't translate from one language to another (i.e. not take a conference paper in English and revise it as an article in Norwegian or vice versa), I'm usually okay.