Life in the operation room was rather slow, mostly preparing for the
Iceland detour (no offense meant, Haraldur), that will start tomorrow at
noon. Later the coming week there seem to pop up some interesting stuff in
more homely waters. This might lead to tough discussions on the use of our
last flight hours. This could get ugly.

Today's tough debate was on whether the evening ice cream should be served
immideatly or a little later. As usual there was no obvious conclusion.
But the result was serving (a little melted in sympathy with the sea-ice)
the ice together with tonight's rented movie. The entertainment committee
(whose members' names better render in the shadowlands) had come up with a
rather hibrow drama named "Venus", starring Peter O'Toole as the elderly
actor Maurice being patheticly attracted to a girl the square root of his
age. The friendly version of why this boredom was selected might be that
the selection itself somewhat resembled the selection processes of the
operation room. The more evil-smelling interpretation could be sort of bad
taste reference to the most elderly officer of the same room, namely yours
truly. If so, shame on the selectors.

Well, during the brighter parts of the day people were spread around the
surroundings enjoying the local nature. Myself was on a nice faunatic
spotting, resulting in glimpses of lamas, horses, a moose, a lot of
eagles, some swans and even the tracks of an elephant. Some of this is
documented in today's snapshots.

And as promised in my last newsletter: I also have some juicy paparazzi
stuff from last nights event at the local pub, from which the most
enduring crowd did not return until way past 1 a.m.

Staff news: Trude left today, leaving Fode the photographer free until
Astrid rearrives tomorrow to boss him. Must be said though, that he at
least seemed to work industriously large parts of the day.

Berit, Beathe and Matthias arrived, thus increasing greatly the campaign
percentage of both females and of vegetarians. Tomorrow we await Torsten.

Vanda has returned safely to the US and sends her regards. Rumours say
that Mel has managed to sneak into an aircraft cross the Atlantic already,
but this remains to be confirmed.

I think this recreates most of the lost masterpiece. As I was about to
send it last time, Jón Egill said good night with the wellknown
shakespearian quote: "Hirlam or not Hirlam, that's the question!" I now
expect him to stand up one evening with a full recital of "The Tempest".
Certainly his leg will give him a special deeply felt touch in the part of
Caliban. (I write this only to show off, as my derogatory remarks on
tonight's film may have left some with the impression that I detest all
hibrowness. Checking out the above classical references might give a brief
laugh, though, and can therefore be recommended.)

gudmund-