It's a Long Way to Tipperary

We celebrated Lise`s uncle`s 45th birthday yesterday. There were the usual open-faced sandwiches, some excellent Norwegian pizza (am I actually acquiring a taste for it), wine, brus, four amazing cakes, and cognac (which at that point I declined). I need to learn to always keep some food on my plate. I have been marked. Lise`s aunt is trying to fatten me up for the kill! They are a farming family after all. They tell me they are taking me out fishing in a little while. If I don't return, you`ll know why.

The parents of Lise's uncle's wife were there. I think they are in their mid to late 80s. Anyway, the guy is simply stuck in World War II. Every conversation, it seemed, related to something that happened during the war. To this day he still has it in for the Germans. Granted, there may be a thing or two lost in my translation regarding what was going on, but I assure you, he has lost a thing or two in translation. He doesn`t speak a word of English, which is why the following words jumped out at me in neon letters:

It's a long way to Tipperary,

It's a long way to go.

It's a long way to Tipperary

To the Swedish girl I know.

I don't know why I found it so amusing, but misheard song lyrics usually are. I tried to correct him. Everyone tried to correct him- that it was the sweetest girl I know. In thinking about it, it is probably a WWI song. After all these years, it is probably just as well. For all I know, she could have been Swedish. I wasn't there, and it was a long time ago.