Big fat Christmas update.

Well it has been flippin' ages since I last posted, and for good reason: times have been extremely busy in the last couple of months. I no longer have 8 hours a day to make silly videos, shoot virtual aliens and write about doing so. 

As I type, I am sat with Stine, mum and morfar at the grandparents house on the island of Lepsøya - enjoying the traditional showing of Tre nøtter til Askepott, the Czechoslovak/East German version of Cinderella from 1973 that broadcasts every Christmas day. Mormor is busy preparing julemiddag (Christmas dinner), the pinnekjøtt (lamb rib) is soaking while the brothers, Matt and Frode, continue to sleep. Just to clarify, today is Christmas in Scandinavia and many other countries. The plan for the day is to sit and wait for julemiddag, mentally preparing for what can only be described as a marathon of meat: aforementioned pinnekjøtt, ribbe (pork belly with crackling), surkål (sauerkraut), potatoes, carrots and two types of mør (sausage), all generously covered in a bacon-fat-gravy. This year's supply of electrolytes usually follows a shot of aquavit to prevent instant heart palpitations, although there doesn't seem to be any in the house. Beer will have to do. It may seem that I am being negative about the forthcoming festivities, but oooooh I love julemiddag. 

So, to update you all on the various happenings in our Norwegian life, here is an account of said happenings...

*If you're wondering why I am writing like its 1894, I've been reading Robinson Crusoe and it has had an effect.

"Fecking cold, isn't it?" The new album.

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Our gender neutral cat, Kompany Millet.

Those of you who follow me on Instagram will have noticed that I have become "that guy who posts pictures of his cat all time" - I wear this name tag with pride, as we happen to have the best cat in the world. Don't even start to disagree. 

Stine has been banging on about having a cat for as long as I've known her, but due to renting property and the understandable reluctance for landlords to allow such a beautiful creature to potentially rip their furniture to shreds, "one day" has been the usual response. Luckily, we have an awesome couple as landlords, who were happy to let us go ahead and add to our family. Surprisingly, it didn't take long to find "the one" - a couple of Facebook posts and messages to people in the know, led us to find a new litter of five just down the road. As I lack male company in Norway and find myself surrounded by lovely ladies, we decided to go for a male cat. You know, someone I can share man-times with like standing up to pee or moaning about traffic. One evening, we went to visit and have a look at the two available boys. While one of them mooched about, the other seemed to take a shine to us, and us to him - it was decided. Three weeks later, after the recommended 12 weeks of weening, we collected our little fella. Obviously, we had purchased all the necessary items such as a scratching post (which I later found out was NOT for the cat to scratch their back with), carry bag, bed, food, bowls, toys, and catnip spray two weeks prior to this. Crazy cat people without a cat.

Kompany Millet, named after Stine's favourite footballer and my good friend Rob Millet who sadly passed away in October, settled in rapidly. I was happy to have another dude about the house: high-fiving, chest bumping, playing video games in our pants etc. 

Lewis, a good friend of mine from England came to visit and hit us with a "that's a girl" comment within minutes of meeting him. 

I had, until this point, never looked at a cat's genitals. Now, I have seen enough for three life-times. Our internet search history is filled with google images and youtube videos of cat-vag, balls, slits, anii (plural) and penii (again, plural). Even with all this education, we simply couldn't work out what on Earth was going on down there. We crudely sent pics of Kompany's area to people in the know. Some said boy, some said girl, some said no idea. 

After a couple of weeks, we took Komps to the vet for the usual check up and vaccinations (...one of which was against Chlamydia). We were surprised we didn't come away with a pamphlet and a bag of free condoms. The vet even struggled to work out the gender of our precious kitten, but concluded that he was in fact a she. 

I am now convinced that if we are lucky enough to have children at some point, they will all be females and I will become a Bruce Jenner figure (without becoming Caitlin). Regardless, she is the most amazing little creature and in all honesty, I don't really care what genitals she has. 

I have never had a cat before, so it is hard to know how well behaved she is without anything to compare with - but she hasn't scratched any furniture or gone toilet in any place other than her toilet - she is loving and playful without being needy and doesn't cry. I'd say that was pretty damn good. 

Needless to say, I'm in love.

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Golfy Golfy

A couple of days after we got our little beauty, we purchased another. This time, we had to go to Oslo to pick up Stine's new (well, 1999 classic) VW Golf. This consisted of flying to Oslo after work on the Friday evening, collecting the car, driving back to Spydeberg (just outside Oslo) to stay the night with Ole, waking up and driving across country for 9 and a half hours back to Ålesund and our little gem of a cat.

What a drive it was. 

Northward, following the river, through valleys, past Lillehammer then gradually climbing towards the mountains where the scenery turned from bright luscious greens to snow covered trees and frozen lakes. Winding roads between trenches of snow, then back down the other side to the incredible fjord of Geiranger. Those of you who watch Top Gear may have seen the arseholes driving the very same road. 

Geiranger - not taken by me.

The 1.6L, 100bhp engine chewed up the kilometres without a peep and we made it back to Ålesund to find our kitten perfectly well, having been kindly looked after by Hanne.

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Job

As I said at the beginning of this post, I no longer have ample time to do nothing. 

You may remember that I managed to get some part time work at a cafe in town. I got fired. Apparently, I spent too much time and care over the coffee machine, making sure it was clean for every cup. I also lacked talent when it came to using the till. Instead of being trained in any way, I was let go. Probably to make room for another 19 year old who knows the boss. 

I was pissed off at the time, but luckily I had already picked up some supply teaching at Ålesund International School while their P.E teacher was away getting married. Shortly after I was fired from the cafe, I was asked if I would be interested in taking over from the year 3 teacher who was leaving. Of course, I accepted without hesitation. I was loving working at the school as a supply teacher / teaching assistant so to go full-time with full responsibility of a year group was an opportunity not to be sniffed at.  

The year 3's are a right bunch of characters, and after some hard work establishing some positive routines and expectations we are having a great time. I teach them maths and literacy, alongside the Unit of Inquiry which the entire school is based around. It is a rather different approach to teaching than in the U.K - instead of teaching knowledge to be remembered in order to pass a SAT exam, the children are given opportunities to develop skills and a love of learning, assessed on their ability to enquire, create and express themselves while being celebrated for showing empathy, working as a team and giving back to the community. This brief description does no justice to the approach, but hopefully sets the scene a little. I absolutely love this kind of teaching, and in the past I have felt myself fighting against "the system" when it comes to working with children, so I am relishing being part of a forward thinking, research-based approach. 

I didn't make this.

Stine is also having a great time at work, making a real difference to people's lives. It is difficult to go too much into it due to confidentiality, but she loves what she does and the participants love her right back. 

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Visitation

We have been lucky enough to have been visited by our nearest and dearest in the last couple of months. Prior to October, I was the only person in the family to have ever been to Norway - now, Mum has been twice, Dad once and Matt three times. Hopefully, we'll get everyone else over at some point in the near future.

In terms of becoming a Nordmann, I have come a long way - I am now awaiting my personal number and I can even communicate with mormor and morfar. I also have a Stutterheim jacket (which even though is made in Sweden, 80% of people seem to have one in Norway). Now, I need some decent shoes and walking gear... As the saying goes: 

Det finnes ikke dårlig vær, bare dårlig klær.  

There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.

Snow day? Nope.

So that is pretty much it... You are now up-to-date and free to go about your lives...

I wish you all the very merriest of christmases, and may 2018 be your year!

Muchos love xxx