It all started in front of Bonus!!!!!!!!

 http://www.netsaga.is/media/files/midnightonceagain.mp3

    Having been working on and introducing the Netsaga a couple of years, "destiny" intervened unexpectedly but delightfully in my relentless search for my "better half".

    During the autumn of 2005 in quite a beautiful weather I was standing in front of the Bonus-store by Laugavegur in Reykjavik distributing my cards to just about any rover.

    -I happen to have some acquantance in most branches of the industry, two of whom are father and son, Kristján and Valur who own and run Borgarprent and they have created and printed many thousands of my namecards which I have distributed all over -

and most often I have tried my best introducing my creation a little orally, thus giving them some curiousity about my Netsaga and perhabs preventing them from disposing of my card before visiting my website.

    By sheer coincidence - some might say because of the grace of some god - a petite and pretty woman with flame-colored hair down to her shoulder approached me, and with her tiny right hand she excepted my card:

asking me in a beautiful russian-toned English: -Can I send this to my friend?

    -Yes of course you can, I replied using my exaggerated Oxford's snobbish-tone, but this tiny pretty woman wearing a leopard-coat disappeared into the bonus-store and supposedly from my life just as all the other women.

    These short relations fated from my shorttime memory but were recalled to my mind a few weeks later when I received a mysterious e-mail from far-away Ukraine.

    The sender was a middleaged woman nearly forty years of age who wrote me that she had loved my photo where I showed my looks wearing just a white strapless shirt on the front page of my www.netsaga.is., so much, that she would like to come acquainted with me. She also wrote that she had received my card from her sister's friend Elena.

    My interest had once again been aroused easily, perhabs for the reason I was getting desperate realising my high age.

    We emailed each other each day and when there wasn't an email waiting in the computer we felt bad and various inappropriate thoughts went through our minds, such as "Has she/he forgotten me?", acting like lovesick teenagers.

    She wrote me that she spoke only Russian and Ukrainian, but used the translation-service on www.mail.ru that translated to English and vice versa, which had the shortcoming that sometimes the translations were so inaccurate that if such language would have been used in relations between governments we probably would have international war.

    She managed to save money in spite of her deapeccable low wages (about 20,000 I.kr.), for a ticket to Iceland and in August 2006 she visited me and stayed for a month in great pomposity.

When she left early morning September 15 2006, we had come so accustomed to one another, in love and had decided to get married just as soon as she could return to my astonishing country.

    She returned in March the following year and my brother, Ásgeir married us at my parents home at Pósthússtræti (from where the view is fantastic over the harbour, the ocean all the way to our home in Reykjavik) in Keflavík in the evening of Thursday March 15 2007.

         Merry Birthday

    Isaac Newton, Humprey Bogart and Princess Alexandra were all born on Christmas Day.

              Last Laugh

Two famous comedians, W.C. Fields and Charlie Chaplin, died on Christmas Day.

    Star Choice

    Peter Anderson is a member of an astronomical society whose members, he assures me, regard astrology as bunkum. Nevertheless, one day he glanced at a newspaper lying onhis desk. It was open at the horoscopes and he found himself doing what most people believers or sceptics would normally do, glancing at them. He told me: -I read my so-called sign, Capricorn. It said I would be offered in the next week. I had a good laugh. The next day I was offered two jobs....

    Drowning Pool

    Film star Julie Christie appeared in the movie Don't Look Now, in which she and her screen husband (Donald Sutherland) are haunted by the spirit of their young child, who has drowned in a swallow pond at their English country house.

    Some years later Christie was visiting her farmhouse on Wales, looked after by a married couple, when the husband found the body of their twenty-two-month-old son floating in the large duckpond near the house. Christie waded in to recover the body from the shallow pond, just as the father (Sutherland) had done in the film.