I believe that the world owes nothing. No debt to pay or government to over throw. The earth will keep on keeping on long after I’ve kicked the bucket. Same as you. The big horn mountains will still stand. The ridges may be different, but they’ll be there. Out by a fire in the middle of no place where the space is vast and full of opportunity. That’s where I go. When I’m done I move on. Carrying what little I have to my chest close as kittens. Mostly photographs, writing, old books handed to me by my grandfather and that’s all — aside from memories.
I live in my own world, because that’s where its safe. Everyone is equal there and left to themselves. It’s quiet. Smells nice to boot. Fresh grass along the streams. The desert has its time to sing. There’s nothing to worry on, except what I concoct over a fire after midnight myself. But its free. I am grateful for my chance. I don’t rub it nowhere. I don’t regret. I don’t forget. I belong where the western winds blow. I belong under the skies so deep and clear that I could paint my hearts true conviction for beating.
And all this time I’ve wondered why I wasn’t like everyone else. Why I carry a burden the way I do and now I know. It is those who suffer and keep suffering that will always, somehow, find a way to survive. Then one day, when I’m old and dying by my fire, perhaps some young good looking kids will sit by me and ask. “You’re a long way from home ma’am. How did you come to America all those years ago?” And I’ll look into my fire and smile.
I’ve been meaning to write about this and post my pictures for … well months now. I don’t even dare look at my abandoned line of drafted blog posts. I have some from as long ago as Huntsville Texas, if you can believe it. Anyway, i’ll write about the blog post now and try to remember the holiday as best i can.
When i go home its always hard, not as easy and full of sheer joy as i’m sure most of you would suppose. The more often i go home to more i feel like i shouldn’t leave or i shouldn’t come back again. Thats a terrible thing to say, i know and am well fucking aware — but it’s the truth. Coming home is the most difficult thing to do on the planet, when home is a place you’ve hardly seen all your mortal days. Being with family for a fleeting moment only to disappear again for years at a time. It feels like that pain is pointless and more trouble than its worth. Sounds like i’m not happy to see them doesn’t it? Well, of course i am happy to see them — but they don’t know me anymore just as i barely recognise them.
We went to Denmark for around 3 weeks, and i’m still paying for that privilege. My workplace is actually still charging me for the right to have taken a christmas vacation. They ailed to make me aware when i brought it up in my interview, and a hundred times there after, to tell me that vacation on either side of the schools Christmas vacation means you pay for the whole damn thing. It’s May and I’m still losing $350 a month for taking this holiday. Thanks.
However, on to more happy posting from here. I noticed when i was blogging from my phone in denmark my blog views and so forth actually sky rocketed. I was so surprised and really unsure why that was the case, because i was posting pretty poor phone pictures (not from my Nikon or Canon or vintage cameras), and i was merely posting in between trips and visits while i was sitting my parents leather sofa watching crime programs; but it did some wonders for my blog traffic — so i’ve set it up so i can permanently blog from my phone and when my 8 to 5 isn’t the huge nuisance that it is, i plan to do more off hand little short travelling posts.
Now this might sound terrible, but what i most looked forward to was seeing my cats again, they have always been so dear to me and they got me through a lot of bad times by sitting on my face or doing goofy stuff. So seeing Daisy and Charlie again made me so so happy — especially after losing Basil. I had some treasures back in my life, even if it was for a fleeting moment.
My parents house is a fortress, and i love it. I wish i could spend more relaxed time there but considering my circumstances its not really feasible. The first few days we chilled with my mum to get over the jet lag, and it was fucking A, my brothers were in Denmark too which was a bonus. A few days later my Pap-Kent came home from a work trip and that was when we were all finally together again, all of us, since England some time ago. It was special, annoying and lovely. Hell knows when we’ll all be together again but it probably wont be for a while. Im thinking our next holiday will be to Disneyland or the Caribbean, but never say never!
Yes, i packed these heavy ass boots because i can’t go ANYWHERE without a pair of cowboy kickers. And i love this picture, because it really shows the contrast. These boots walk the desert and plains daily, yet for Christmas they waded through tall rich blades of grass on a little island in Denmark. Literally my life. A big cock up different cultures. These boots look a lot more worse for wear these days — all covered in dust and holding on spurs.
The day after Kent came home we went out to see the highland cattle and visit the farms store. The proprietor, a very lovely lady, let me in to the pastures to pet the cows and now i want one. Or fifty.
We also got to meet her very talkative chickens that believed we were only there to meet them. They clucked and rapped and peep peep peeped with all the chicken gossip. Above you can see Pap-Kent with a bunch of chicks.
That same day we also visited the bison “ranch” and got see these beauties. Bison are some of my favourite animals. Almost right up there with the Texas Longhorn and the American mustang.
Obligatory picture of Norse Fjord horses in a nordic country.
After our little livestock trip we went out to get a christmas tree from a roadside elf attraction. Something i always loved as a child, and still do, is that Denmark has little places like this set up and it looks like a real little elfs house. Even in Kolding you’ll find Santas house and in the Christmas month you can go in and visit him. Its so festive and i’ve never see it any place else — and i’ve been a lot of places. Sweden and Norway probably do similar things.
I want all the things. ALL.
Our christmas tree, and i think it ended up being the most beautiful we’ve ever had because almost all the kids decorated it together. After Christmas my mum set up the tree in her garden. She’s just like me. Doesn’t to see them die after being used for a month — so she decorated it for easter and its still happily planted in her back garden. But thats why we use plastic trees at home — because i refuse to pay money to cut them down only to use them for a month, and then throw them away because they’re a fire hazard and “ugly.”
Daim and anything kinder is food of the gods.
On the 23rd we had Christmas with Farmor in Kolding. It was wonderful and just what i wanted. Quiet, relaxed and safe. The only place that never changes and im so grateful for that. Believe me. Christmas at Farmors house is always the best. Films, Danish christmas food and copious amounts of chocolates, sweets and such forth that i miss when im away.
The best part of Christmas is the roast duck and the desert.
Jack found the almond and wont the prize, 100kr — which Farmor had her eye on to take back if no- one found the almond.
Franck did not win. Franck was not happy.
Franck and i with Far Dall. <3
And our Swedish Aunty Connie. I was SO glad Jack got to meet her because she’s such a character, and we all laughed like witches. <3
This is Monty, and he will ONLY play with me. No one else. SO when i arrive we have to concentrate on making sure he is happily entertained with feathered things and fluffy mice. Because he doesn’t play for years at a time because im away. He is an enormous Norwegian Forest cat.
The best Christmas. Only Basil and Farfar were missing.
This is where Jack, Franck and i stayed in Kolding before returning back to Fyn. Nice little apartment type hostel thing hotel whatever.
Another beautiful morning.
And another morning that i had to get up and photograph.
I saw it shining through the window, the entire room was almost hot pink thats how bright it was and it was still 4.30am.
Charlie getting highs from the Christmas tree.
Decorating time! Mum let me pick a few things to take home with me for my own Christmas tree. So i can have a bit of home when i’m in America. Christmas and Birthdays can be hard for me, from time to time, because i’m used to a big loud annoying family. Luckily i have Jack who makes plans and keeps me going. We always have sweet little Christmasses (?) by ourselves. Cooking enough food just for two, Basil would get a special Christmas dinner and wear a wooly sweater, thats all we ever needed. The three musketeers.
We all decorated the Christmas tree together — aside from Steph. She was working. Boooo.
Kasper and Franck.
Cat + Box = Daisy in Box.
Buck toothed Gritty and her brother of many colours.
Charlie sneaking into the presents because no one in our family can stay away from presents.
The red house is Santas house — the one i previously mentioned.
Denmark for me is a tough subject. And the holiday was nothing too extraordinary, and we didn’t want it to be. We saw the places, spent time with my family and i knitted a lot of socks for my mum. Like a lot. But other than that there was really nothing to report. And thats why theres more pictures than writing. Going home after having been… home…. why it sucks. Believe it. It confuses me and hurts me. Every time i leave Denmark its feels like i’m leaving my inner innocent child behind, and i get so little time with her enough as it is. Coming back to America is coming back to real life.
After coming home this time i was CERTAIN i wanted to move back. Having been back in America for a few months — i’m sure to hell that i don’t. And thats the constant battle haha. Anyway, i hope you enjoyed the pictures. I realise the writing is sparse but sometimes pictures are enough.
Stay safe and healthy out there.
Klokken er lidt over lort om natten i USA og som sædvanligt kan jeg ikke sove. Jeg fik pludseligt lyst til at skrive et dansk indlæg på bloggen — det er sku sjældent. Nu når Jack øver sig i at lære dansk bliver jeg mere og mere inspireret i at forbedre mit eget sprog. Han har simpelthen sat det op sådan at vi kan se dansk tv og radio programmer herovre circa 6500km væk — et jule mirakel if ever there was one. Det er så dejligt at kunne følge med i en julekalender imens man tæller op til jul, noget så simpelt varmer hjertet. Så kan jeg lade som om Danmark er lige ude for vinduet og mormor bor lige om hjørnet.
Når jeg læser det jeg skriver på dansk kan jeg godt mærke at jeg bliver enormt irriteret. På engelsk er jeg forfatter men på dansk kan jeg ikke huske de ord der ligger så tydeligt for mig på engelsk. Det er simpelthen så træls at indrømme at på dansk er min intelligens nok ikke ældre end 5 år gammel. Men pyt med det. Fordi det er jul og idag skal vi spise and og risalamande. Så så galt er det sku heller ikke.
I ønskes en rigtig glædelig jul og godt nyår herfra.