slowing down

Well, it's fall. I know this because, as is inevitable every year, I have a cold. The current one used to be Pd's, and I'm pretty certain it's a Viking one (in origin, if not in strength. Please, not in strength).

Luckily, the cold (health-wise and temperature-wise) seems to have ended the Summer Insanity, for which I am very grateful. It gave us a chance to catch up (slightly) on our housekeeping, and I got to do things I've been planning to do, like repaint the bench in our dining room:


Blue, of course. (It's actually left over paint from our hallway and bathroom — which also happened to be a near-perfect match for some cushions in our living room. Weird how it worked out that way.) I still need to go to Home Depot to buy some polycrylic for it, but otherwise I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. (For reference, it used to be plain pine — part of the Ikea Stefan series.)

I was going to distress it, but I don't think I need to bother. It will distress itself quite nicely soon enough.

We also stocked our brand new Mini fridge:


It is really the cutest thing ever. It's a little bit of an indulgence, but last year Pd and I won a $1,000 gift certificate for Mini accessories at the Mini rally, and we had to use it up. Unfortunately the certificate was for accessories only — no service, or parts like snow tires — so after we bought the practical things (roof racks), we went for the fun.

Here's how seriously small it is:


But it's great, because this means we can stock up at the beginning of a Rock Band marathon in our study, and then never leave.

African Violet watch '10:

So it turns out that I am actually very good at growing African violets — which is to say, they do not suffer unduly from my increasingly vague and sporadic watering schedule, unlike ... well, everything else.


We're not going to talk about the garden any more, though. We've resolved that we're going to actually give a damn in 2011, because it's far, far too late to do so this year. Not even the herb pot survived.

reeling my soul back across the Atlantic

We're back! Actually, we've been back for almost a full week now. It seems insane to consider that, one week ago, we were in Reykjavík, fighting the wind and lamenting the imminent end to our vacation ... actually, what is slightly appalling is considering how much we did in that one week, compared to the practically nothing that we have accomplished since we got back.

(Then again, if we had kept going as hard as we had been that week, I probably would have dropped dead from exhaustion by now.)

One of the few things we've done is distribute some of our Icelandic booty. My brother-in-law was kind enough to make use of our house while we were away (thereby preventing the cats from going completely feral), so we rewarded him with — what else? — a plastic helmet. With braids.

The pose and cutlery were his idea.
Meanwhile, life continues apace. Both Pd and I went back to work the morning immediately after our return, which seemed like a reasonable idea in theory but turned out to be utterly crackpot in practice. We subsequently spent the weekend recovering from that (and the residual jet lag that we hadn't dealt with).

...
I am going to write up our Iceland trip in detail, with accompanying photographs. However, the Air, which replaced the reliable-but-slowly-failing iBook in March, is itself failing —the hard drive is making unmistakeable chirping and "working" sounds when in shallow thought. I took it to the Genius Bar, and a new hard drive has been ordered and will be put in as soon as it arrives. Until then, however, I am trying not to tax it too hard — or do any work that I would be deeply unhappy to lose. (I am backing it up every night, but it could conceivably fail at any time.) So the photo-managing and subsequent blogging may take more time than initially anticipated.

waste water reclamation

Last day: Blue Lagoon


We spent our last day/morning/early afternoon at the spa, like all Icelanders expect obedient tourists to do. They even have a bus service that takes you from Reykjavík to Blue Lagoon, stores your luggage, and then takes you straight to the airport.

And yes, the water really is that colour (and it really is reclaimed waste water).

culture day

Sixth day: National Museum


And tomorrow we go home. Sigh.

mudpots!

Contrary to what I've been posting so far, Iceland isn't entirely coastline. (Just mostly.)

Fifth Day: Reykjanes

Icelandic fog is still fog.

Fourth day: Snaefellsnes


Today it rained. All day.

Viðey

Third day: Walkabout on Viðey

halfway to Europe

I was going to write this whole post about how this summer was really fun, but also really hot, and how I am not really a heat-loving, beach-going sort of girl. Then I was going to tell you how this summer has caused me to dream about colder climates, and then I was going to wrap up the whole story by telling you that I was going to go to Iceland.

Except then I got behind, as I normally do, and things got really busy, as they normally are, and now I'm actually in Iceland, so all I can give you is the belated news and a few pictures from the past two days.

It's been 15 degrees here, in the sun, by the way. It's like heaven. But with sleet.

First day: whale-watching


Yeah, they all kind of look like waves.

Second day: glacier hiking (and some ice climbing)




And now, in the courtyard below our hotel window, there are a bunch of inebriated people singing "We are the Champions" in Icelandic accents. A few minutes ago some of them were doing the wave. I really have no clue what's going, but apparently it's hilarious to all involved (even us eavesdroppers).

Photoblog: Valley of Fire

Rainbow Vista in the Valley of Fire.

The Valley of Fire was the main reason I was excited about going to Las Vegas. (I know. I'm lame. But I don't gamble, I barely drink, spas bore me, and American Coke tastes weirdly different — it's the high-fructose corn syrup — so it's not that surprising. Which is not to say that everyone who enjoys Vegas should be an alcoholic, caffeine- and gambling addict with a penchant for massages, although I'm sure it would help.)

It really is spectacularly beautiful, though. (Speaking of which — you'll want to click on the picture above and see it in its original size in Flickr. Trust me.)


The long and winding road into the park




The trail known as the Mouse's Tank


Mouse's Tank is also known for its Anasazi petroglyphs.








We entered the park via the Valley of Fire highway off of I-15, drove through the park, and exited on Northshore Road (the so-called scenic route) to head back to Vegas. It turned out, though, that the road was being re-asphalted, a section at a time, so we had to wait for a pilot car to guide us through, which we found amusing.


My Docs, which used to be black, but now ... aren't. A souvenir, I suppose.