One of my dearest memories of childhood are of my grandfather. I spent a lot of time with him, since I wasn't a very social kid and I did not want to go to kindergarten.

I often sat in the kitchen, drawing pictures and he would sing for me while making dinner. We often danced in the kitchen as well; I would stand on his feet and hold his hand and he danced around.

In the basement he had a workshop. A bench loaded with tools and stuff. He tought me how to use a knife to carve wood and he often made beautiful stuff for me. Once he made me a boat, which I still have. We were best of friends.

My grandmother was crafty as well. She made clothes for my dolls and even myself. I remember when she got her drivers licence, she was probably way over 60 years old.

She often told me stories about the hidden people that lived in the rocks in the nature. They look like humans, but usually they make themselves invisible. There was this big rock in the garden which she said was inhabited my a family of hidden people. She told us kids not to play on top of it because that could make them angry. If something was missing she told me that they had borrowed it and we should only wait for a couple of days and then they would return it. Sometimes when I lose stuff, only to find it the next day sitting in front of me, I think about her and wonder if the stories were true.

I grew up in a small fisherman's village on the north-east coast of Iceland, located on the Melrakkaslétta praire to be more exact. The view is amazing, there are no trees there and no mountains, you can see the horizon all around.

Growing up there is a wonderful thing for children, we ran around in the nature all day, only coming in to eat. The world was our playground. We practised jumping between rocks and looked for treasures at the shore.

I remember the salty smell of the ocean, the cold sea breeze and the sparkling stars in the sky at night time in December. I remember walking to my grandparents, to me it seemed in the middle of the night, when in fact it was just before supper, and the stars were looking down on me, looking like diamonds. I looked down at the snow and it was sparkling because of the frost and I thought that the stars had fallen down. I was four years old.

H	Healthy
U	Unforgettable
G	Glorious
R	Realistic
U	Unforgettable
N	Neglected

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It's awful. I suffer from the "I can do it myself-Syndrome". The story goes like this:

This past few days I have been staying at my parent's house, since Andri is moving out. He owns most of the furniture so the apartment is practically empty. Fortunately my parents kept my old bed when they moved to this house and since they are somewhere camping (Ásbyrgi actually) I decided to find it myself.

It was kept above the garage. To reach it I had to pull down the ladder. I looked around for something to stand on, but I couldn't find anything other than an old office chair that was just standing there doing nothing. Needless to say the ladder was too heavy for me, so it pushed me away as it fell down. So did I...fall down that is. The chair ended up at the other end of the garage. All I can remember is me thinking: "Please don't break your leg". Fortunately my bones are strong.

The lesson learned? ASK FOR HELP if the task at hand is too much for one person!! ...Will I do it? ...no, probably not

What is it? Pride? Viking blood? Bad genes? I don't know...

What do you think about this...???

Jæja...smá könnun.

Eins og ég sagði þá nenni ég eiginlega ekki að blogga á 2 stöðum í einu í sumar og mig grunar að enginn geti lesið bloggið mitt á myspace nema að vera user þar. Þannig að ég var að spá hvort ég ætti að copy/paste-a það sem ég skrifa þar og setja það hér.

Þetta er svolítið annarskonar blogg...ég tala kannski ekki alveg um sömu hlutina þar...

Anyway...hands up if you want to read me...