Let it swing...

..is the title of the rhythmic choir meet, that I am attending along with three of the X-tette girls - tomorrow in Roskilde.

We leave at 7.30 tomorrow morning, and will be back some time tomorrow night. I look forwards to really exercising my lungs!! Now that we didn't get to sing wednesday...

Reunion

I got a really neat invitation by mail this week.

My grade school class is having a reunion this august. The party is held at our old school (at which my brother and his wife is teaching now, but that is another story).

The two people inviting is two of my classmates that I liked the best. We got together about 10 years ago, and since then, I really haven't seen anyone - due to the fact that I don't live in the area any more - it is 23 years since I left there.

I mostly have good memories from my schooldays. I wasn't part of the popular crowd, but I wasn't an outcast, either. I lived my own life, peripherically, and had no enemies, but 3 or 4 good friends in class. They were undramatic years.

I would be overstating to say that I was popular with the boys. Awkward, nothing much to look at, and perhaps a bit too sharp tongued and rough edged for most. Probably it was also a barrier that a lot of them had been my playmates before the oncoming of puberty. I always played well with both sexes as a kid.

I wonder how they remember me? Maybe I should ask someone - in august...

The confirmation that didn't happen

My daughter was supposed to have been confirmed on may 17th.

She had been taking classes to learn about it, and to know what she was confirming. When she started out, she was quite sure that she was going to be confirmed. Along the way she got to doubt. Didn't really feel that it was real, that it was the right thing to do. She was in doubt.

We talked about it, and I spoke my mind. I told her, that I thought she should only do it, if it was meaningful to her, if her heart was in it.

I don't like it, that kids do the confirmation in church, for the family, the tradition, the gifts and the party. I think it hollows out the ceremony.

I also find it wrong that couples, that don't have a true relation to church and God, chooses to marry in church.

I find it so phony!!

I feel it is a lack of respect to faith and church, and I am not even a believer myself.

I told Bodil, that confirmation is a personal choise. That she should not do it for anybody else - or NOT do it for anybody else. She should look into herself and figure out, if it was the right thing to do.

She did just that, and she is not ready. Maybe one day she will be, maybe not.

The minister came for a visit the other day, to say "see you" to Bodil. Bodil has gotten solo lessons, because the general time was messing with her school schedule, after she changed schools. She is a sweet, warm person, this minister, and expressed very clearly, that she was happy and respected Bodil for reflecting over her choise. She told of lots of young people, going through with confirmation without ever thinking about it - and how difficult it made things for her. She had a hard time putting her heart into her job, with the low level of engagement and refection of most kids. They don't listen and receive, they just sit there, because they have to.

Like me, she thought it was a strong, mature way to act, Bodil actually taking a personal choise.

And of course we are having a party - it's just not a confirmation party, but "Bodils party".

The return of the son...

Andreas has been gone for 3 weeks now. It is strange not to have him around - I often think of something I want to tell him, and then I remember, that he is in Høvelte.

I buy a lot less food, and I have quite a lot less to wash, when he is not here. One adult less in the household - that shows.

...I have to admit that I miss him a bit. I know it's silly, and I always swore NOT to be that sentimental mother whining over her children growing up and moving out. Part of me finds it very nice - not because I particularly want him out of here, but because it is the natural way - a sign, that he has come succesfully out of childhood and is now a functioning adult.

I picked up him and Kristina at the train station yesterday. Kristina has a good friend - Lykke - who is dating Kristian, one of Andreas' best friends. Kristian is also at the queens guard at the moment.

This is NOT a coincidence - Lykke successfully hooked up Andreas and Kristina!

So Kristina got a ride with Lykke to the train station, where they were to pick up their soldier boys. I met the girls on the platform, and we hadn't waited for many minutes before the train arrived - on time!

The boys have now shown, that they can carry their uniform, and is allowed to wear it on leave.
I hardly recognized the lad, he did look snappy....



And yes - the picture tells the truth, he is tired. It's rough in there. You have to get up early, figure out a complex system, and listen avertly. He says, that if you listen well, and take things face value - never just guesses that its probably like this or that, but always asks for permission - then it's not that difficult.

Unfortunately not all of his comrades have figured this out, and the use collective punishment a lot, so they have had a lot of extra room controls etc.

Swapping of equipment is planned elaborately - so it's not in a central depot, but a lot of different places they have to go. And the place where they swap their laundry for clean clothes is only open ½ hour early in the morning, where they also have to clean up their room and eat breakfast. This means that he doesn't always get around to getting clean clothes, but relies on his mothers good will on the weekend! I can't believe, I am doing laundry for the Queen - I ought to bill her!



My clothesline does look a bit green...

By the way, he was actually quite lucky this week. A bunch of guys decided to hit the bars on thursday night, but Andreas decided to stay home. Lucky for him! The other guys got in a huge fight with some immigrants, and one guy was kicked and beat really badly - his front teeth are history along with his spleen, and he is now hospitalized.
Almost all the Guards were involved in the fight - even Kristian got a blow from someone.

All in all he is in good spirits, though. But he thinks it is nice to be home on the weekend. His mother cooks with REAL VEGGIES - not the frozen kind, boilt to death. He claims to be in a state of malnourishment after 5 days over there :-)

He is looking forward to the Rex exercise. It is the final trial, that they go on, and after that they get a Rex-badge and go on Guard Duty.

And I get to go take pictures of my son wearing blue and a bearskin hat.
THAT will be something!!!

Saxkjær women invading Rome!

...this might be a suiting headline in the newspaper at the end of the summer - if we were celebreties.

The last time my mother visited us, she mentioned that her travelling days probably were over, but that she'd really have liked to see Rome.

That comment was simmering in the back of my mind, and I talked to Bruno about it. He thought i should offer to travel with my mother to Rome - so I did.

Since then we have expanded - my sister wants to come along as well. It will be big :-)

Bruno is a bit unsure at the thought of the scenario: "I can just imagine you and your sister and your mother, on the Spanish Stairs with a 5 liter bag-in-box...", he says.

What is he thinking about?? We are going down there for the culture ... and for checking out cool roman guys... and stuff like that.

And we just might enjoy one glass of red now and then.

I can't wait!

My soldier boy

Home for the weekend, my son in the queens guard (do we hear the proudness in the mothers voice??) decided to crop his hair.

It had two purposes.

One: the short hair is practical in the army.
Two: get rid of the brown dye - it was looking a bit silly with 5 mm blond roots....

Kristina did the deed on the terrace in the sun, and I managed to get this shot of a very good looking young man with close cropped hair.



"Look fierce," I said, and this is what I got ... ha ha, I know he is really a cuddly teddy bear...

Happy ....

...birthday to me!!

I have celebrated my forty-first today, and I must have been an awful sweet girl coz the sun was shinin' like crazy....

The day started out with Bodil and Bruno singing a birthday song while carrying my presents to me on a tray!

I have been trying like mad to guess what Bruno was up to gift-wise this year, but as usual he outsmarted me. And to my extreme joy, the gift was 10 lessons at the local dance academy, INCLUDING a male dance partner - of course my handsome hubby!
I have been slightly pestery trying to get him to at least TRY it with me, but he's not been very eager - I guess I eroded him a bit over time... :-)

Other than that I have gotten clothes, shoes, cd's and loads of other great stuff... and all in all it is just good to feel sorrounded by my warm and loving family, and see how they make a great fuss of my birthday...

Someone else made a fuss over my birthday. My pretty orchid has been blooming wildly for some days now, and I guess it must have been elbowing the hawaii flower next door on the window sill, coz this morning it was sporting a big lovely yellow flower...

He's so sweet

Yesterday morning, early, before I logged on to my home workstation, I hung out a load of laundry in my yard.

When I got home from the conference I participated in all afternoon, Bruno had just taken off. He had taken the laundry in, as I had asked him to, folded it and sorted it into piles after the What Belongs To Who-method.

I my pile was a pair of Bodils jeans.

Just for the record, Bodil is a sweet little elf-child of 50 kg.

Thank you Bruno.

I love you for being so sweet, even if you are a bit unrealistic.

I believe he must be in love in order to pick up Bodils jeans, look at them and think: "Well, these must belong to the mrs."

:-)

Today I have...

... had lunch on my porch with my nylons down around my ancles ... aaaahhh ... !

... seen an elderly, slightly awkward male co-worker be very sweet and caring to another co-worker

... been part of a meeting that was really constructive and that will lead to us closing an educational hole at work

... found myself face to face with a person I once thought a friend - and managed to keep my face strictly neutral, not displaying any sign of recogniction, while I observed that I just didn't care a bit

... eaten Brunos wonderful "frikadeller" for dinner in a homemade roll with pickled cucumber and remoulade (is this post all about eating or what??)

... felt that my feet after all has reasonable contact with the firm ground.

So all in all, it's been a pretty good day.

Does love have an age?

The other day Bruno and I watched a danish movie, Solkongen. For those who don't know the movie, it is about a somewhat naive young man, who meets love in the form of a slightly alcoholized lady 29 years older than himself.

A fine movie, and fun - and Bruno and I had us a nice discussion on a subject, that we frequently touch.

Basically I see the benefits of spousing up with someone pretty close to your own age. You are at the same point in your life. You grow old at approximately th same time. You have the same frame of reference about a lot of things.

Bruno shares this opinion, just fiercer than I do. When we started seeing each other romantically, it suddenly dawned on him that I was actually SEVEN years his junior ... and just for a moment that was taking up quite some space in his head, worrying him a bit.

I am more like "....and?"

It has to be said, that our quite insignificant age difference means little in our daily life. It mostly means a difference in the music we heard, when we were going out as teenagers, and hopefully it will mean nothing more in the future, than that Bruno is going to be keeping house for some years when he retires, and I am still a "young lady".

I have never been seriously involved in anyone differing much from my own age. At a point I had a boyfriend who was 7 years younger than me, at a time in my life where this was not an inconsiderable age difference, but it never got serious to the point where I was considering it a problem.

But then - I am of the opinion, that even if there are advantages to being of the same age, I wouldn't hesitate, if I fell in love with a person 20 years older or younger than myself.

Yes I know - "When you are 50, he will be 70!" or the other version "When you're 60, he will be 40 and still young."

But life doesn't write out guarantees. You don't even know if you will be here tomorrow. You don't know if you will ever meet anyone, who can bring you the joys this person have in store for you - will you give that up because your age difference might be a problem 20 years from now? Will you NOT take this journey, because the train might stop just one station short of the destination you planned?

Would you rather pass it by and look for someone more your age? You know, there is no guarantee to that love lasting life long. Or that the someone your age will grow old with you - sometimes people die early.

It is right now, that we are alive. Of course we must look ahead, and secure ourselves to some point.

But now is the time to live and to love.

There is no guarantee that you will be here in 20 years.
Life as well as love does not grant guarantees.

Only chances are given. Whether we dare is up to us.

Picnic

I've been on a great picnic today.

Actually I planned to ride my bike - me and my canyon, out in the blue. But then I thought, I had enough win for a couple of weeks this friday, and with the sky looking gloomy and leadlike, I found my running shoes looking really attractive.

I haven't run for a couple of months. I sort of missed it, but I also know, how tough the first week of running is, once you are out of shape. The energy to start has not been present - for even though running like all other types of exercise gives you extra energy, you do need to invest more than you get starting up.

So I've been waiting, knowing deep inside that the day would come, when my running shoes almost on their own would jump on my feet and drag me out there.



That day arrived today. I took the car over Lillebælt bridge, because even if I could easily run or bike over there, I wanted all of my running trip to be in the forest, on the soft paths, and I know that I would be sweaty once my session was over - and then riding over the bridge with the cold wind beating hard from one side is a CHILLING experience...

The forest is wonderful at the moment. In one moment it will burst into green. It is now so warm, that the forest soil smells sweet and fresh, and the sensation of forest path under my running shoes is one of my favourite ones.

Againgst all odds I ran quite easily and had no sensation of old, rusty hinges - an all too common one on first runs.

I resisted the temptation to prolong my trip because of the easiness, but kept within the planned half hour of running. Now I an enjoying the payback - no sore knees or shins. Just that good feeling in my body.

I go solo

By nature I am a socializing person, liking other peoples company ... but I actually prefer biking on my own.

I have taken some training sets with Baghjulet (the bicycle club), but even though they are all very nice people, and very enjoyable company, I prefer biking on my own. Me falling down with my bike last year was a factor in my choosing not to train with others - but not the biggest factor at all.

It wouldn't be like me at all to let one bad experience keep me from doing something, I really find giving and good.

Bottom line is just, that I find it more enjoyable to ride solo.

Sometimes I ride with Bruno. That is fine - if it is not too often. It is a completely different thing than when I ride on my own, and by now he's got it figured out: I really enjoy being on my own, but apart from that I find our trips very pleasurable.

Some have been deeply worried, wanting to cure me of my ailment. But I don't want to be cured. I have no taste for racing in someones hind wheel and spending a lot of energy on keeping up with (or down with) the group and rhythm, whilst keeping an eye on whether somebody in front chooses to break or swerve. To me it is ultimate freedom and joy to set my own pace, plan my own route, take my own breaks and do my own sprints.

I don't bother to join organized races. Why should I pay 200 kr. to ride behind a bunch of other people, when I can go completely for free - on my own?

I have found out how I get the most pleasure out of exercising on my bike.

I am appearantly just a solo rider.

Wind on my nose

In this gorgeous spring weather even a small time biker like myself can hear the roadbike whinneying in its barn.

High sun, though, is not necessarily a guarantee for warmth. One look at the thermometre, even though it is placed directly in the sun in the morning, assures med that it is not - it barely read 10 degrees celcius. So I was convinced that my spring biking outfit, that I have been sporting on my previous trips, was not for today. It consists of below-the-knee pants, windproof undershirt, my jersey and loose sleeves.

So I brought out the long pants, the winter jacket, and as an afterthought I added my nice warm shoe covers. I didn't regret any of it!

There was a cold, cold wind out there, blowing in from the side and front, all the way to Vejle.
I chose not to drive my usual route, that keeps that direction through the first traffic lights of Vejle, but to deviate out of the wind a bit before. My forehead was aching from the cold, and I nearly regretted I didn't wear my helmet hat. (It is a headcover that goes under the helmet).



So I turned against Andkær, and as soon as I turned, the wind noise and forhead pains got better. AAaaaah! The bike was also responding much more willingly, when I tried to increase speed, so I decided to reward it with a banana break in a pretty place.



Here you see me, doing what I do best :-)

When the banana was gone, I moved on. It was wonderful to be off the big road - all alone, in the fields on that tiny road I was following.

When I ride my bike all alone on a small road, surrounded by fields and forest and sky, I feel light, like that bird hanging a bit to the side above the field, singing. I am free. My heart floats weightless in my chest. It joy.

After winding my way home, my trip counter was on the good side of 50 km.

And it was only after I got in my hot shower, that I realized how COLD my bottom was! I deserved that shower .... I really did... :-)

The real deal

Here you have one of the best versions I know of Great Gig in the Sky - namely Pink Floyds own version from Pulse... Outstanding singers, fantastic composition.

There is so much energy in this song - and that dreamy undercurrent, that is so Pink Floyd in the 70es... Try it ... Try it...

Buzy bees

That is Bruno and me these days.

We live in a large house. 181 m2, on two levels, with a big garden. 5 bedrooms.

It was great when we moved in together, having 4 kids under 18, that we needed rooms for.

Now it too big. Andreas has gone to Høvelte, near Copenhagen, to mind the queen, and when he gets back, it will only be temporary. February 1st Kristina and him are going on a study trip to Costa Rica in Middle America to improve their spanish skills and experience loads! They will be gone 3 months, and I can't imagine him moving back in with us when they get back. Not permanently.

Last friday our house came up for sale, and today the first potential buyers are getting a tour of the house.

So it has got to look inviting.

It does - but I have wrinkly fingers!
et hus, som vi har valgt sammen. Et, som ikke er en del af vores historie før vi var "os".I fredags kom vores hus på boligsiden, og i morgen kommer de første interesserede ud for at se huset. Så det må godt se ordentligt ud ... og det gør det nu.Til gengæld har jeg rynkede fingre.