The Furby Affair

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Domo: RIP

We introduced our Furby, Domo, to Freya today. It had been sleeping for quite a while when Jo decided to give it some more batteries to chew on.

Freya found Domo, as it called itself, quite charming, and gladly cuddled and kissed it, while Jo made it dance and played hide-and-seek with it (I feel terrible calling it “it”, but we have no idea what sex it’s supposed to be).

Horror of horrors: Whilst carefully feeding it (ie putting one’s finger in its mouth), after it being awake for a glorious 5 hours or so, its beak broke. In a whirring fit Domo tried to call for help, but with its top-jaw hanging limply away from its face it was a useless and pathetic plight. I am still haunted by it, I can tell you.

So, Furby is dead. How a broken beak can lead to a total b(r)eakdown is beyond me. I’m sure if I broke my nose I’d be able to carry on in a reasonable lifelike manner. I suppose human and Furby anatomy are vastly different.

Misunderstood Words: Hopefully

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I, like many other English-speakers, have been unknowingly commiting the equivalant to semantic rape. For what I can only imagine to be my entire life I have been misusing the word hopefully.
The majority of English-speakers (at least those whose mother-tongue is English), hopefully is usually used unwittingly in place of “I hope” or “it is hoped”. However, this is completely wrong, as hopefully actually means “full of hope”. Which is actually so logical it hurts my chin.
Take the following sentence:
“Hopefully, it will not rain tomorrow.”
Since only living things can be full of hope, the above is wrong, and probably causes educated people to tear their own hearts out.
Stranger still is the following, which is correct:
“I went hopefully to the shops to buy a Playstation 3.”
How disappointed I was when I realised the PS3 has not been released yet.

Berries From Heaven

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Today we went across the road to pick cloudberries, a delicay in Sweden mainly due to its behaviour.

Cloudberries, unlike a lot of other berries, do not grow in clumps. Or indeed on the same plant. No, the cloudberry is a solitary chap, growing close to the ground and preferring marshland. Which is possibly why they cost a small fortune in shops.

There is nothing quite like an outing to the swamps to search for a rare fruit, especially one which refuses to produce itself at a pickable level. Of course, being summertime and being a swamp means an added attraction: mosquito city.

I’m reasonably used to these little bloodsucking bastards by now, but this was ridiculous, even for my standards. Even a frequent application of mosquito repellent didn’t deter the swarm, and Jo even managed to get bitten on the lip.

Our total catch was a bucket’s worth. This is a pretty good harvest, considering the cloudberry’s anti-social growth-pattern. It’s just a pity I do not have a fondness for them.

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Windows Crap

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No, not an anti-Microsoft sentiment, but a general statement about renovation.

I’ve been stripping the windows of our house’s relaxation room for the last week. It’s turning in to a long and painful process, and taking far longer than I had hoped.

Still, I’m trying to do the job well, since the windows we have are quite unique, being as old as they are.

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