It's beginning to look a lot like...

Well I can't completely say Christmas. True, Lars has been to two work-related Christmas parties, we had the Christmas beer tasting, we have put up our little tree, AND I have wrapped all the presents we've bought so far...

...and taken out the hand-made doilies that one of Lars' aunts made us last year and the little Santa statues that are our entire collection of Christmas decorations. I've even started baking cookies and trying to make fudge.

All the shops have Christmas stuff everywhere and I am daily popping some chocolates out of my advent calendar. I am also lucky enough to be trying my luck on an scratch ticket calendar as the days tick down to the 25th, courtesy of Lars.

(No big money yet.)

There is til og med a huuuge Christmas tree up in Østre Torg...but I have to admit something fairly important is still missing. Maybe I am spoiled but, um NO SNOW!?? What is Christmas in Norway without snow? Blasphemy, I tell you. Blashpemy!

(This picture was taken over a week ago, even that snow is GONE)

This time last year I was practically snow-swimming to and from my Norwegian classes and now I am instead greeted with the slush and mud of a typical Pacific Northwest winter. Varmegrader is the name of the game lately (which literally means warm degrees) That's the term Norwegians use to describe any temperature above freezing.

(Even if it's not much.)

The point is--I actually want it to get COLDER so the slush can turn back into snow and it can hang around for awhile! Who would've thought? But regardless of what the weather situation here in Hamar is, I am confident there will be snow waiting for us in Tynset and that's where we'll be for Christmas, and most likely New Year's too!

Even without the snow, I can't help but get in the spirit. I frickin' love Christmas.

(Although I do still maintain that Halloween is my favorite holiday.)

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Resemblance?

This is mormor, or my grandma on my mom's side. I totally dig that in Norwegian you rarely have to ask to clarify which side of the family grandparents come from, by the way. It is seldom that Norwegians use the generic grandparent words (bestemor in this case also means grandmother); instead they use mormor (mom's mom) or farmor (dad's mom) to make it known who is who. This, coincidentaly, can give a lot of Poulsbohemians insight into what the heck that restaurant downtown is called and why (Mormor Bistro and Bar)!

Anyway, her name is Corinne Self, and this was taken in June 1948 when she graduated from Wayne State University. Think we look alike?

My memories of Grandma Corinne are few, but precious. I remember once she was driving me in Poulsbo and I mean to ask, "Grandma, are we going to the antique store?" And instead it came out as, "Grandtique..." and I caught myself and we both started laughing. I have called her Grandtique ever since.

I also have a decent sized box of really old grandtique-ish gowns and dresses that she used to wear and gave to me once when we were visiting. And I also remember puking all over her nice clean carpet in her condo.

That's about it. Good 'ol Grandtique.

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You Decide!

Honestly, this blogger has said it so much better than I have ever been able to. Check out this post on My Little Norway and decide for yourself whether it is easy or hard to get a job in Norway.

I am leaning towards hard, fyi. Or at least time-consuming, frustrating, and ridiculous at times.

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Check, and check!

(Norway's national stadium, Oslo)

I have checked two professional sports events off my list of "I've nevers" in the past month! The soccer game Lars and I went to in November was technically my second pro experience, but the first one we didn't even have seats in the stadium (we stood behind the goal) and all I really remember is how damn cold my toes and fingers were. So the check is officially made now. :)

This experience was a lot more fun; Lars and I had great seats (compliments of his employer Norsk Tipping) and the game was the Norwegian Cup Finale. Needless to say, the energy in the stadium was tangible.

(Fans of the winning team Ålesund)

On Tuesday, it was ice hockey, again compliments of Lars' company. Now soccer is my game, I know it inside and out and have been playing it for years amidst various cultures. Baseball I feel like I have an intimate understanding of, and most other sports I get, but hockey, I must admit, is a game I admire but know embarrassing little about (I know you are cringing Melissa). But that sure didn't make it any less fun to watch. Even though Storhamar (team from Hamar) ended up losing 5-3 I actually thought they played really well. Not that my opinion should really matter at all, since I have already admitted that I am completely ignorant of the subletites of the game. Hmm.

But even if you have no idea what was going on during the action you could have just showed up for the opening festivities. We are talking cheerleaders (slightly sarcastic here), lights, music, fireworks, flags, cannons and a flaming dragon. I mean this was NBA caliber showmanship. And the rink was used for ice skating in the '94 Winter Olympics.

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BRR.

Well folkens, it's getting cold here. Yesterday was something like 8.5° F. Today it's warmed up though--it's about 25° F. Haha, "warmed up". Well, I guess winter is finally here.

The beauty of the Norwegian lifestyle is that winter doesn't ruin your day (most days). It can be much below freezing outside and you just put on more clothes and get out for a tur. Lars' mom always says that it is important to air yourself out a bit! And I can only agree, after spending many cozy nights inside by the roaring fire with candles lit and good food and drink...it is good to air yourself out once in awhile! Especially after a huge turkey feast the night before. So Sunday, home in Fåset/Tynset that's exactly what we did.

(Stine walking Raja)

(Randi with the neighbors' new dog Tira)

Tira is exceptionally timid, and didn't like me much at first. But...she couldn't avoid me forever. I plan on being around that part of the woods fairly often for ...uh ever I guess. So I dedicated a few extra minutes to letting her run skittishly around me, sniffing me etc. She licked my face and hung around enough for me to get this blurry but endearing shot:

I think we'll get along just fine.

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