Wednesday in Holy Week. Today is the last day of work at the post until Tuesday. However, I volunteered to work on Monday, 2 ½ overtime. Why not? It’s been rather hectic the past 10 days or so because of Easter. Icelanders love sending out Easter eggs, so it’s a kind of mini-Christmas rush. I’ve been luck to have been on the morning shift the past five days but today will be the afternoon shift until 10.30pm. Both shifts have advantages. The morning in that you get out at 3pm and have a good chunk of the afternoon to yourself. The afternoon in that I’m fresh to do personal work in the morning and have a goal or closing in the evening. There’s always some tension to get it done right, because the next day flights might be disrupted. The computer program we use is rather complicated but like anything else of this sort, boils down to knowing the sequence. After that it flows easily. Then for a while there were occasional problems, chief of which is the dreaded “white screen” which shows data for given country hasn’t been filed properly. For some time that was intimidating because I could consult only a handful of people. Now I know how to correct mistakes which makes the job flow easily.

There was an on-again off-again situation about Easter. At first I was invited (and planned) on Westman Island, but that family was having a lot of people over. Then most cancelled for one reason or another, so I’m on again. They asked me to make lemon meringue pies for dessert, so will oblige gladly. As for Icelandic cooking, I recall that during earlier visits (my first was ’76) they just tossed everything into a pot and boiled it, pretty much like the Irish, no care nor preparation. Surprisingly with all their sophistication, Icelanders took a long time to shed this habit but can now hold their own with any other cuisine. Fish here is about the best in the world. I recall many instances where really fine pieces were just boiled to death, completely destroying the flavor. Still, I know quite a few older people and some middle-aged ones who just boil stuff. I might add that small, native potatoes are a favorite; quite good but get tired of them being served all the time, again, Irish-like.