Kvennafrídagur 2005

On October 24th, 1975, Icelandic women went on strike.

On October 24, 2005, they did again.

Approximately 45000 of them (including not a few sympathetic men) gathered in downtown Reykjavík to march. And Little Blue Duck, because she is both a female and living in Iceland (all lemming-like tendancies aside) marched right along with them.

Question for all the Icelandic speakers out there:
Does "að minnsta kosti 45 þúsund manns, meirihlutinn konur.." have a certain resonant irony to it, or is it just Blue's sense of humour getting in the way?

October 24, 2005 was also incidentally the day that Little Blue Duck learned how to crochet. From the tender age of approximately seven, after a highly abortive attempt to produce a Barbie scarf, crochet has been one of those things in life Little Blue has avoided like the plague and downhill skiing (see also traumatic childhood experiences, formation of). But with the help of a very patient and excellent teacher (takk, Jamie!), it turned out that crochet is neither as traumatic nor as painful as Blue had thought it to be. In fact, it's kinda fun. And addicting. And anyone with a blood relation to Little Blue should probably beware of crochet-coaster shaped Christmas presents this year. Friends, friends-of-friends and former classmates should not consider themselves entirely safe either..

Hah! Now that the mystery of which hole the loop goes through has been at least partially solved for the time being, Blue Duck is riding on a tidal wave of euphoria. What could possibly be next? Another attempt at downhill skiing??

The art of clocking

Although tempted to leave the previous entry as a tantalizing incentive for improving one's Icelandic skills, for those of you who have not yet jumped onto the bandwagon (and there is still time!)....

(Did I mention yet that there's still time?)

(Oh well.)


Not long ago, I got a message on my blog, which, for those of you who don't read Icelandic (yet), read something like this:

I clock you! Write 5 useless facts about yourself, then clock 5 people yourself.

The Duck found herself suddenly plunged into the dark underbelly of the Icelandic blog world.

1) I own enough socks to go for an entire month without having to wash them (note: absolutely NO sock re-wearing is implied here, the Duck finds the idea repulsive and unsanitary)

2) Could not find a matching pair of socks this morning. Went with tasteful colour-coordination instead.*

3) A very unmemorable half an hour of my yesterday was spent grating carrots.

4) Duck-duck the Duck is the title of an epic poem I wrote for an English assignment in 9th grade. It begins with the memorable lines: "Meet Duck-duck./Duck-duck is going on a quest."

5) My favourite colour is not orange.

*I have since given in to the inevitability of laundry