Thursday 18 December 2003

Pic of the day: I didn't think about my camera, so instead enjoy this picture from the Sims 2 preview movie, showing a more typical family gathering. The toddler in the lower left corner in particular reminds me of myself when I was that age. (Although I did not actually set fire to the furniture, just the garden fence.)

Visiting father

I know, you cannot say from the title whether I visited my father or he visited me. That's OK, because I'm not quite sure either: None of the above, or both? But there was a visit. Or two.

Early in the day, my father called me from Mandal, the nearest city to the west. He was visiting his older sister there (she is about ten years older, meaning she is in her mid 80es). As usual he had not told me that he was planning to come to the south coast, but this time he did call me while he was here. It has happened that he has just visited some friends and relatives, and returned home to the west coast where he lives, on the farm where I grew up. He is certainly under no obligation to keep me informed of his comings and goings. This time he did anyway.

Since I live kinda off the highway, to say the least, I came to my aunt's place instead. I had to take the bus. I did not have the time table, but got one in Kristiansand, and took the next bus to Mandal. Here my father met me at the bus station. It was quite a walk from there to my aunt's house, at least for a supposed elderly man with a limp. But physical activity is supposed to be good for the health, yes? It is also probably a point that taking a taxi would cost money, and my father has a healthy respect for money. He hasn't had lots and lots of it exactly, as a farmer on the rocky west coast.

I may have visited this house before, but I could not remember where it was or what it looked like. I remember there was an elderly man who seemed to have some problems; I suppose this was the husband of the woman who live there now alone. She seemed to be doing all right by herself, too. A health care assistant visited while we were there, and her daughter-in-law stopped by in the afternoon and also bought some groceries for her. You occasionally hear stories about elderly people who die and nobody notices for a couple weeks or months. Perhaps this will be so with me, but surely not with her.

I talked a bit with my father, but mostly I listened to him and his sister talking about old days. Which may be just as well, since I don't really know enough to ask the right questions. My father used to live in Mandal when he was young. It has grown quite a bit since then, from a small town to a large town or small city. This seems kinda strange to me, since the place doesn't seem to be growing much these days, if at all. Certainly not when compared to Kristiansand, where I work. Kristiansand is adding approximately 1000 inhabitants each year, and this is quite good by Norwegian standards. Remember, all of Norway has little more than 4 1/2 million people, less than the large cities of the world. And our population would not grow at all, if not for the immigrants and their offspring.

I have a talent for getting lost (both in the real world and in online games). This time I made an effort to memorize the path we took from the bus station to the house, so I could find my way back alone after dark. This also came to pass. I made it to the bus station with a comfortable margin, and came home without any mishaps. I also found out that the buses are no longer going to stop at Tangvall Centrum, but a few hundred meters away on the highway. I believe I have located this place today; this could be useful in the future, if any.

My throat has been sore a couple days, and tonight more than before. I was worried that maybe I had the flu, and if so I might have brought it with me to my father and aunt. But since I am actually writing (well, mostly dictating) this on Sunday, I think it is safe to say that I did not have the flu this day. And a good thing it is, too. I may seem kinda cold and remote in my dealings with my family, but that's just the kind of person I am. (Not to mention that it's the kind of family we are.) But that doesn't mean I want to change the name of my journal to "Kinslayer's Daily Diary".

It is almost ironic that many families live in a constant state of quarrel, if not outright fighting; and yet they cannot imagine a life without each other. Children insult their parents, and then cry and weep and wail when they die. Doesn't make sense to me. But they have their life, and I have mine. I guess my life doesn't make sense to everybody either. But at least you can study it at your leisure, right here!