It's 11:30 p.m. here and the Superbowl has not started. One would think the powers-that-be would try to accommodate the Packers' international fans...I'm cheering for the Packers because, according to the NYT, they're taking concussions seriously.
We had a relaxing weekend. Watched Fritz Lang's Fury (1937), which offered a powerful indictment of mob violence and then tacked on a ridiculous Hollywood ending.
Had Irene and her two kids over for dinner on Sat. and went over to a colleague's house with the kids tonight. Mark and Walter wrote stories about Saratoga in English and Ole and Ida wrote stories about Ruffen, the softest, most placid but talkative of cats, who has the markings of a Holstein cow and a proud mouse-catching history . At the end of the evening, the kids read their stories, giggled and exchanged texts.
Bill is working on his reader, his Norwegian history blog, and hauling groceries up the hill.
Yours,
Martha
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