Birthday and Handball

The biggest event of the last week was my husband's turning forty. Since my mom insisted that it was a bad luck to celebrate this particular birthday, plus Ted wasn’t keen on turning one year older, we had a quiet home celebration complete with reciting of the poems, treasure hunting for presents, and receiving calls from Russia.

Many adults don’t like to celebrate their birthday or at least say that they don’t like it. For me a person’s birthday is special (it is the only holiday a person can claim on to him/herself) and it is fun to acknowledge it. Plus, I have a weird ability to remember people’s birthday, this is the kind of information that sticks in my head without any efforts on my part. I still remember birthdays of my former students. I wish I have the same ease remembering something slightly more useful – how convert Celsius to Fahrenheit, for example,
or other equally elusive math formulas.

In other news – we said good-bye to the friends whose curtailment came through – I am happy for them, but the sadness still lingers. Our kids are officially the only am. embassy's kids in the school.

The whole Iceland is overjoyed with their handball team bringing home silver from Olympics. (Alda from The Iceland Weather Report covered this topic wonderfully in her blog, so those who want to know more about it should read it there.) I will just add that Icelanders were very excited about those games and most of them were glued to TV screens when they were shown. On Friday, when they played Spain, the taxi driver excitedly told me the score as soon as I entered the car; the teachers in the school were gathered in the room and one could here their loud cheering from a distance. Now, if I only figure out what handball is? Webster defines it as “a game, similar to squash, played by two of four persons who strike a ball against a wall or walls with the hand.” I’ll have to turn to Youtube for better understanding – it is the minus of not having a TV.