Venus and Satan

This morning there was this rare astronomical event; a Venus passage, where Venus passes in front of the sun. I happened between midnight and 6 am, and we were in a perfect location to watch it.

The public broadcasting was sending live all the time (these long and slow broadcast is one of the things I like about public broadcasting).

But I wanted to see it live, with my own eyes. I enjoy watching astronomical events; last time was the eclipse of the Sun in 2008.

So, I set my alarm clock for 3am. That’s about the time of sunrise in June. I grabbed a piece of over-exposed film (the kind of stuff we used before DC cameras), for eye protection, and then walked up to our 17th-century fortress (a 5-minute walk). The fortress was built to have a good view, of attacking enemies and sunsets and Venus passages. A perfect place to watch the event.

Unfortunately, it was partly cloudy, and the sun was low. I didn’t see much, but at least I got a glimpse of that black little spot moving very slowly across the face of the Sun. Very interesting.

And when I walked back home about 5am, it all became clear to me; the Grand Conspiracy.

Venus is not only a planet, but she’s also the God of love in Roman mythology. When God (the Trinity) conquered the world, she got offended and teamed up with Satan to get revenge.

Today is the 6th of June, the day Satan was born. And there’s more, it’s 6/6/12 which equals 6/6/6*2. Do you see the pattern here? The number of the beast, and the 2 for Venus’ and Satan’s engagement.

The Venus passage was her spectacular present to Satan on his birthday! Pretty scary, isn’t it?

We may argue that the Venus passage yesterday is a consequence of us happening to observe the Sun and Venus from our Earth. Every day there is some point in space with a Venus passage.

However, keep in mind that both Gods (all of them) and Satan exist only in the imagination of man living on Earth >:)

(I borrowed the picture above from the Internet, since I don't have a proper camera to photograph this myself.)

Summer in Winterland

It’s June, and there are signs of summer. The trees are dressed in green leaves. I have cut the grass once already.

Last Sunday, we had a nice and warm day. Little boy and I biked to town in shorts and T-shirt to buy ice cream.

Yesterday it was snowing.

Today I’m wearing wool socks.

It’s summer in Winterland.

Summer in the north doesn’t mean it’s warm. It just means it’s light all the time.

The light summers are addictive (and the dark winters too). When you’re used to living in the north, you won’t consider living anywhere else, at least not for a long time.

The nature of the north is like a chubby woman, shaved by the cold and harsh winters, and then in the spring her fur grows back, just as it should, just where it should, leaving the highest mountains bare >:)

 (I took the picture above on a late summer night about a year ago, when I walked across the old town bridge on the way back home from a late night in town.)

Before Man made God

I just came home after a week in Spain, on a geology field trip in the Pyrenees. They call it work. At least we get paid for it.

The geologists go on field trips all the time. Occasionally (every 10th year or so) they let the geophysicists join in.

We studied the making of the Pyrenees; the Pyrenean orogenesis. We didn’t bother about all of Genesis, just a small part of it, in the southern Pyrenees.

(And we had some great hikes while looking at the old rocks. I know that I’m privileged.)

The Pyrenees are younger than the Rockies, but older than the Alps. The Pyrenees have been there for a long time.

They helped Republicans escape from General Franco during the Civil War. 

They survived the Spanish flu.

They witnessed the Spanish inquisition.

The mountains were carved long before Man made God.

But in the end they will be gone, planed by water and ice. That’s the inevitable faith of a mountain range.

(We hiked a steep and stony trail. After an hour we stopped at the crest of a great moraine. The reward we got was the view of the mountain in the picture above.)

Who the Hell was Stroganoff?

I’m out traveling again. No need to say where. It’s almost become an habit. I survived another trip on the old Antonov 24, and arrived safely on Putin’s side of the border.

The driver took me to the hotel. Then I went to the café to get a dark Piligrim and something to eat. Irina was behind the counter, with a shy smile as usual. She gave me the menu, and I looked through it to find something to eat. Pizza? No, it’s terrible. Some Russian dish? I found beef Stroganoff on the menu. An international dish, but at least a Russian name.

 But who the Hell was Stroganoff? The chef who invented this popular dish? I Googled it and found the answer. Beef Stroganoff goes back to a Russian family of very rich merchants, during the Tsar era. The beer was good and the Stroganoff was eatable. I asked Irina for another beer, but not another Stroganoff.

Today I was working with our Russian collaborators. Not much to say about it, not much I’m allowed to say about it. But the lunch was good. Seafood from arctic waters. Herring and cod and caviar.

Then I started the trip back home, by car, through northern wilderness in early spring. Snow was mostly gone, but lakes still covered by ice, and no signs of green leaves yet.

We stopped at the cafe in Titovka, to get a cup of bad instant coffee and a rest. It’s become a habit.

When we passed through the Army town of Sputnik, I asked the driver if he had been in military service. I told him I had, in the navy, during the cold war (I will write about my merits in battle some time later).

 “You were our enemies,” I said, “the evil empire in the east.”

 Then we got a good laugh, on our way to the border between two countries that have never been at war.

 (Some pictures I took today, from top to bottom: Murmansk seen from the other side of the fjord. The cafe in Titovka, made from 3-4 old yellow railroad cars tied together. Not much of a cafe, but you can get a cup of coffee or a coke, and use the restroom for 15 Rubles. Nikel seen from the road ()my driver don't want to stop there). It was a sunny day, but the town was obscured by the smoke from the Nickel factory.)

Dogs and whales

I read in the news that the Republicans are mocking Obama because he ate dog meat when he was a kid in Indonesia.

I immediately realized that this will make my own campaign difficult. I planned to run for President of the USA in 2016. I know that the Republicans will try to dig up everything that has happened in my life. So I better tell it right away.

I have something to confess: I ate whale meat when I was a kid. I ate Shanu and Keiko and Moby Dick. They're so cute, though some are bigger than a school bus. Still I ate them. Not only once, but regularly.

It used to be the cheapest meat you could get. Therefore we had it for dinner almost once a week. My mother made fried whale beef with gravy and potatoes. It was very good.

Now whale meat has become  expensive, because of the international restrictions on whaling. But they serve it in the gourmet restaurants, at a high price.

Whale carpaccio is delicious. Typically you get it for a starter. Very thin slices of raw and tender whale meat, served with olive oil, Parmesan cheese and rucola. Try it, unless you wanna run for President >:)

(I had no pictures of dogs or whales in my collection, so I borrowed the one above from the Internet)

Return of the handyman

A couple of weeks ago, older boy and his buddies crashed our old Toyota. They ran off the road, hit a traffic sign, and wrecked most things on the passenger side. Fortunately the boys didn't get injured, except older boy cutting his hand when the window broke (he's a freestyle skier, so he has a high tolerance for pain, and didn't even bother to see the doctor).

The car is 12-13 years old, so we had no insurance, except the obligatory liability part. To make it cheap, I went to the junkyard and bought some used auto parts; head light and front and rear doors. I was lucky and even got them in the right color.

Cars don't interest me. I find them totally uninteresting. Therefore, I have never tried to repair a car, never touched anything under the hood.  But I thought, what the Hell,  it can't be that difficult. And I studied in a technical university (only math and theoretical physics).

I removed the wrecked doors, paying attention to how things were put together with bolts and nuts. Same with the electrical wires, and then the headlights. Then I mounted the new used doors and lights. And voila; everything worked right away.

New merits can be added to my handyman record. I hereby proudly announce that I've become an auto mechanic >:)))

(I took some pictures with my phone, to document my merits as a auto mechanic. At this point, I have replaced the rear door, and taken off the front door.)

Scream for millions

Yesterday, the Scream by Edvard Munch was sold by Sotheby's for 120 million dollars. That's pretty expensive for a painting. I submitted my bids, but had to back out when the price passed 100 million.

I'm not sure who bought the picture.  Rumors say it was the royal family of Qatar. Whoever the buyers are, I hope they're not too disappointed when they find it's not the only Scream. Edvard Munch painted four versions of this picture between 1893 and 1910. The three other versions are owned by the Munch Museum and the National Gallery.

I f you,  like me, were outbidden in yesterday's auction, there's a consolation. In the Munch Museum, you can admire two different versions of the Scream for only $15. And they have lots of other cool Munch pictures as well >:)

(The picture above is one of the Screams owned by the Munch Museum, probably the first version from 1893. I found the picture on the Internet, for free)

Closing time

Winter is coming to an end. The sun is warming, and the first flowers have appeared down in the valley. Shortly, the trees will start to acquire green leaves.

Today was a sad day for little boy. It was the last opening day in the ski resort. The warming sun is destroying his winter paradise, at least for a while. In six months, the snow is coming back.

We have spent four days in the mountains skiing, just little boy and I in the cabin. The last four days of the skiing season. We took Monday off from school and work, respectively. Tuesday was 1st of May, the International Workers' Day, and a holiday in many countries, including ours.

Skiing was still good at higher elevations, still plenty of dry and fresh snow. For the last week of the season, they have built a big terrain park in the high zone. Jumps all over the place. Green and red lines for the freestyle rookies (like little boy), and black line with big jumps for the teens.

It was an amusement park made of snow. Great fun for those who have the skills and the guts to use it. And for the parents it was pleasant to take a cup of coffee in the sun while watching >:)

(I took the picture while relaxing in the sun, drinking coffee, eating chocolate, and watching the kids.)