well, its spring — so its about time for my big danish christmas holiday blog post

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.

Mor showing us around the property our first morning.
God morgen. <3


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.

Daisy being mad at me for being gone so long and pretending she doesn’t want my attention, when she obviously wants my attention.
No place does foggy, gloom like mornings quite like Denmark.

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!

My favourite boots in one of my favourite places.

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.

Den gamle øl bænk.
I woke up so early almost every morning of the holiday, and i’d grab my camera to watch the world wake up. Often Charlie would coming running to me when he heard me and together we’d go back in the house when everyone starting waking up.
The cute little town of Bogense a little ways from my parents place.

Jack the Texan in a little old Danish town, dressed as an Irishman.

Danish towns are really really special. Comforting. And i love walking through them and looking through the windows.


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.

Messy baby just had breakfast. Beard got in the way.


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.

Elf woman who sold us our tree.
More chickens that had something very special to tell me.


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.”

Suzy, my sisters dog. On our way outside to shit in the most ridiculous places because dog.
That there is my brother Franck.

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.

6 years

Today it’s been six years since i left my English shores for the ride of my life. Those of you who know me, know that looking back for me is a painful thing.. not because of regret but because of nostalgia. Looking back i struggle to let go of the past —  with her claws in my back like some wounded banshee.
I miss the beaches, i miss Bristol harbour side and i miss sailing every week with my good friend. I lament the loss of those few good times i had.
My fondest memories from Britain was sitting in an old wooden ship pub with Pat — talking about sailors of old, ghost stories about pussy penny pickers and discuss all the books i’d write, all that after a good sail and a couple of biscuits between sea shanties. The joy i felt those days and nights — i knew they would not last forever. I suppose a part of me knew that i would supposed to leave England eventually. But i of course though i’d be going the other way. Back to Denmark.
I truly lived the life of Treasure Island for a while back there. I visited all the places and saw the world differently, i sexed with history and bleed for her to boot.
And as soon as that happened — i fell in love. A love that existed and stretched so far past the horizon that i had no choice but to follow as my heart ran away with me.
I don’t regret a day,  perhaps i wish every world i’ve lived in and nurtured didn’t have to be so far apart. So separated and recoiled by one another.

pondering by the window, counting my blessings and thinking about writing my next adventure.

I still find it hard to fathom where i am now. Living in Wyoming where the wind is rough and its cold as a buffalo carcass in the ice. Moving to Wyoming plays a big part in me finally managing and feeling inspired to finish that western novel. And now that i achieved that wonderful feat — we’re ready go move back to Texas, preferably by the coast so i can sit by the water and writer my nautical novel. Novel number 2.
We won’t be moving every time i write a particular kind of novel, it just played out that way this time. In New England i felt so drained, i didn’t belong there and it was tough and tiresome. Our road trip west really brought the love back for the West that i’d been missing.

With Texas being back on the cards, and moving there again — its a strange feeling. A home coming but with the two of us… it wounds my heart that Basil wont be returning with us in the flesh, but life is full of its hardships. I hope it happens as soon as possible. I’d personally also love to try to live in Denmark in the forest, near a sea, with Jack for a while but i don’t know how well that would go. I think we’d live happily and well but we’d grow bored of the quiet still living where nothing really happens. But you never know. We could end up living on a boat out in the Gulf of Mexico and sailing to wherever we wanted. Who knows. The world is our clam and its all dumb uncertain. All i know right now, in this moment, is that i’m so glad i dared to love blindly, move freely and let a Texas fella tell me a secret.

I count my stars and lifelines every day. What do you count your stars for? What mad crazy thing did you do?

20 hours & the daily grind

I’m back on the daily grind, running on very little sleep and Danish withdrawal symptoms. I’ve been listening to a fun Danish podcast all morning which helps fool my brain into thinking home isn’t all that far away. But its 2 days away and shit tonne of miles. This was the longest trip of my damn life but in the best kept company.


20 hrs
The start of 20 hours in an airport.. when you’re already exhausted

We were stuck in Heathrow for 20 hours, and it was horrible. We spent our time watching Father Ted, i played on the baby grand in Terminal 3 till the early hours of the morning, and we watched the night mice scrounging for old food under the seats. A lady told me  we weren’t allowed to take pictures. We promptly cussed her out under bated breath. After i finished taking my pictures of course. Unfortunately due to her interuption i missed my mouse picture, however, out of pure stubborness i just took pictures of chairs to piss her off.

Suitcases
Lunch at Heathrow

I haven’t been to Heathrow since i was little, but by christ its an awful airport now. Cramped, dirty and seriously over priced. If i wanted walk behind people who aimlessly stand around in awe of the fucking ceiling… holy shit. The good thing about being there so long was the easy access to all the hot and spicy monster munch i wanted, and pink lemonade lucozade too. Love that shit. I found that a lot of the food i thought i missed wasn’t as great as i remembered, but i expect i’ll miss it something fierce just the same. We also had a lovely evening dinner at a fancy place which i forget the name of. I got a pizza and Jack had fish amd chips. Not too shabby.

Boots on suitcase
People watching while Jack sleeps

I got next to no sleep. I cannot for the life of me sleep sitting up or with strangers around. Im always on high alert in an airport. We’d found a quiet terminal to sit in when the airport closed, but were shooed out like vermin around 1.30am by some rude little asshole with teeth spuing from the roof of his mouth. He said we could leave the airport, which wouldve caused a shit tonne of trouble as Jack didnt have a visa .. but he insisted that didnt matter just to get us to leave. We refused and were rushed to terminal 5 where all the other people on long stints were kept like gerbils in a sardine case. He actually shouted at us when he had to repeat himself because he had an accent and too much saliva in his mouth. Talk fucking clearly and maybe not at 9283mph. Damn. As you can see im still pretty aggravated about it, but you dont talk to people like that just because your dumb ass wants to get home to an empty flat with rot of the walls, so you can masturbate over women you cant afford. I didnt tell him that, because i have a habit og making people cry so i said my please and thank yous and rolled out all the polites. Idiot.

Suitcases
Almost 34 hours later and we’ve finally landed in America

The flight was comfortable, we sat in two relatively private seats at the very back of the plane. We had plenty of room and we were about as comfortable as we could be in economy. No screaming babies neither. Thank fuck for that.

Pastel sunset
Back to the daily grind

After the two bus rides and a car ride we finally arrived home. Worse for wear and tired as all hell, slightly agrieved by idiots in airports. I actually had trouble leaving Billund because of my name, but the girl was clearly lacking education and common sense, thinking she could take on my mother. Not to mention Jack who, just by insisting helped talk them i to accepting my LEGAL greencard. Anyway we showered the world away and had walmart pizza. I dont remember much else.

Sun up
Hello Wyo!

And then it was straight up the next morning to go to work. 36hours or so of travelling and little sleep as well as lack of patience. And back on the daily grind for us. What champs we are, but would you look at the sun up we were greeted with this morning? Like a kiss in a candy shop.

all trails lead to laramie

Its been a few months since we found out we were moving.
We’d been waiting so long it felt like it was never going to happen. The sun and moon set a million times too many, but finally the sun rose to her peak and we were given the news.  It was between two places originally, but all our trails are leading us to the truest west the USA could offer.  To the land where Calamity Jane has  been seen flouncing around from bar to bar and riding from town to town. Where the railroad towns were built, and stand there still amidst the windy plains the little hells on wheels. The Cowboy State of America and where there isn’t an abundance of people to bother us.
All our trails are leading us to Laramie, Wyoming. The land of the wild mustang, buffalo (bison to you sticklers for accuracy) and the notorious grizzly bear, who isn’t too scary to an angry mother moose.

The beginning.

We all know i’m terrible at blogging. Not a secret and no point beating around the red-bush about it.  It’s just not my kind of writing and thats why i keep trying. I never could keep a damn diary either, i always ended up doodling naked ladies, making notes for plays/stories and writing poetry. I did desperately want to though however, because pretty girls on telly kept diaries. Normal people kept diaries. That was never supposed to me. I was a short little thing with pigtails (before i cut them off), scraped knees, big front teeth and freckles all over my nose. I couldn’t keep a diary because i was too fucking busy fighting the royal navy on the beach, burying treasure, climbing trees to see how far away my house was and digging till i reached China. And for that reason and many others, i haven’t been writing things down as i meant too. Nevertheless i’m doing it now whether or not i ever reach that great wall of China.

Pimples, periods and packing. The three p’s that don’t fucking mix.

I don’t know how i got through the last few weeks of New England, it might just be me but when i know i’m leaving i just want to get up and go. So staying at my job for as long as i did after i found out there was a light at the end of the tunnel — was an utter nightmare. The job was hard enough to go to everyday as it was haha, but when freedom came waving her skirts i could barely sit still. Im glad that job was over. Hot damn it was hell. IF you’ve ever been the most intelligent and normal human being at a job you know what i mean. Being surrounded by rich scientists who think they are somebody because they spend a sugar tone of money and name drop like popping pimples, the worst. And you’d think they had some form of common sense. But i digress.

Bennett Way and her bright lights.

The closer we came to leaving the more sleepless nights i had, so i’d wake up and watch the sunrise and pack the last few bits and bobs in the apartment, all the while dreaming and planning and thinking how different things will be. I really hoped that i would be re-inspired once i got to Wyoming and find a place that i felt i could stay in. New Hampshire was just hard. Jack was lucky enough to be surrounded by some great guys at work whereas for me, as per usual, i managed to find every crazy person from every rock that had something to say. And they were all my bosses and what a fucking joke. In truth i am a nice person i suppose, but i just don’t deal with bullshit well, in fact i choose not to deal with it and just disappear. Once i’m done with something — im absolutely done and we were done with New England a couple of years ago. I will say though, that the last few months of my job i spent 8 to 5 writing and writing and writing and writing. And i took the money like someone kind of sneaky whore with an STI.
Ask me if i have any regrets.
I would love to write for a living. How do i make that happen?

Our little apartment is almost packed.
Where we loaded our trailer that would go on to Wyoming without us.
Almost dead after two days of loading Uhauls and trailers in 123901283901283 degree heat and humidity.
A welcome break from packing, loading, cleaning and so forth.

On August 14 we moved everything from our Uhaul to our ABF trailer that we rented for the trip. Originally we thought about just getting a Uhaul van with a trailer for the car, but we wanted to travel in luxury this time. When we moved from Texas to New Hampshire we had to blast right through every state faster than a scared dog. So this time, we did it differently. We loaded a Uhaul with all our belongings, drove them down to Massachusetts and loaded them onto the trailer, because the trailer couldn’t make it into our badly set up apartment parking. The trailer was then moved for us and arrived here in Wyoming a few days ago. Easy as taking a shit after a curry and only yesterday morning did they come and pick it up without a fuss. It was well worth it in my opinion. All we had to worry about was the car and ourselves on the way. So we could stop wherever and whenever we wanted to. And we did! That is another blog post entirely and that’ll be coming up in the next week or so.
All that loading though — kicked my ass. I’m glad i was actively working out every day and working weights or i never would’ve been able to move our things as we did. But now i need to get back on to that without the free gym at the apartment complex. Booooooo.

Something strange is afoot on our last trip to our local circle K in Newmarket.
When we first moved into the apartment and Basil loved to supervise the workmen outside and watch cars go by.

And someone we couldn’t have survived New England without. Someone we have everything to thank for. Basil, who i will no longer think i see at every corner of the apartment as the apartment now belongs to another. That is the cruelest part of the move for me. Feeling like i left Basil behind even though that dog would have gone anywhere with us in life or in spirit. But that is what i will miss. The comfort of knowing Basil lived here with us and that is something that is missing from the new house. The three Musketeers that are but two. But those of us who have been so lucky to have a dog — we know they never truly leave until we are ready to go with them. And Basil will forever be at my feet, on my lap and in every sundown and dream. Because that was Basil. Leaving New England is in part also a way to force me to move on and stop lingering for him to return.

I’m lucky he was mine and how we love each other, even in death.

I am a man of constant sorrow — it’s true.

We left New England on the 16th of August and arrived on the 21st tired, with a million adventures under our belts already and a positive first impression. I could write about everyday on the road if i wanted, but i’m not that kind of person. If i wouldn’t read it myself i wont write it. Just as i wont post every single picture i took of us just driving, because how dull. What i can tell you is that having someone, who changes everything, to drive two thousands miles with should be on everyones bucket list. We made like Jack Kerouac and made the road our life. We drove through every storm and swore at every traffic jam. I was surprised at the prices of each fucking toll — money grabbers! And we watched every sunset from all the Holiday Inns from Wyoming to New York.

We drove through 2 or 3 tornado warnings, but other than that the weather was perfect the whole way.
Find someone worth travelling thousands of miles with.
The sundown over New York.
Somewhere in Pennsylvania.
Entering Knox County, Illinois.
Winterset, Iowa.

I can’t fully explain in words yet, what it felt like to finally be back in Old West country. When the mass of buildings started to dwindle and cars were replaced by cows and bison. When there were more horses than people. And when a horizon kissed our foreheads for what seemed the first time in 4 years as we drove to our new adventure. Country accents laced with hospitality you just don’t find anywhere else. Attentive service at the local eateries and free beer for a cock up. That’ll take me a month or two to comprehend — to find that this was real.

A view of Omaha Nebraska from our room in Iowa. Below us is the Missouri river.
Almost at our new hell on wheels home. <3 This is Cheyenne, Wyoming where we spent the last night before reaching Laramie.
Rugged country.
Out of focus, but we arrived safely to the Cowboy State!
Our new home!
The first Wyoming sundown.

These aren’t the only pictures i took but as i said, I wont show you everything because some of it is just mine. Maybe in another post later on when the dust has settled. I think this is the furthest i’ve ever been from little Jylland in Denmark. The furtherest from my family i’ll probably ever be and of course this will most likely be where i stay. Thats not a reflection on my family, but for some reason this was just where my heart stopped weeping. A place i didn’t feel my spirit was sore.
We travelled from New Hampshire, Massachesetts, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska and finally found our Wyo. Everything went as planned it.
Some of our things were a little scratched up and worse for wear when the trailer arrived but that was our fault, i can’t fault the service at all. We probably wont do it again though because we wont be doing another cross country move.
I’m sure someone in your life has told you, that everything is a learning curve? You wont get it a hundred percent straight off the bat and if you do, i have to wonder whose paying and whose doing the work for you.

Danish kid back in the country.

And so, here i am. Back in my boots and hat and plaid and new wrangler jeans, and god damn proud of it. Sitting in our backyard no less. Our trip here was a trip of a lifetime, a trip people fly to America to do. We crossed out 4 to 5 things from our bucket-list if not more along the way. The strangest thing for me is that some of these bucket list dreams i dreamt about when America was just a mythical place beyond the water that i never truly wanted to visit, because i didn’t want to fall in love and end up never moving back to Denmark.  Life knew better, didn’t he?

Well, thats it from me for today.  I have a mountain of unpacking to do and some breakfast to make. Soon i’ll have the vlog ready that accompanies this particular post and i’ll probably be working on that today and the rest of this week.

Until then.
Until then.
Until then.
Coming soon to Youtube — All Trails Lead to Laramie Vlog

expat blogger of the month

Hello lovely readers !
Let me catch you up a little on whats going on.
A few days ago i received an email asking if i was interested in contributing to an online expat magazine on expat.com.
I was so surprised and super excited, so of course i said yes. What an interesting opportunity.
I only recently happened across this website for expats a week or two ago from happening to glance at a few other expat blogs, so this all happened really quickly. Hence my surprise. Its a really great platform for people to learn about moving abroad and getting information from real people who have experienced that kind of life. So its genuine advice, thoughts and discussions. So if theres anyone out there reading this that wants to move abroad and wants a little help, this might be a nice place for you. (This is not an advert by the by — this is just my own opinion and i’m not paid to have said opinion). 
Anyway, they sent me a list of questions to answer about my blog and my general expat experiences. I know i don’t write like other people so i was a little unsure that my writing was right for something like this as its very “novel-esque,” but thats just the ever present self doubt we all suffer from once in a while making an appearance.

Tomorrow this little extract on me goes live on the online magazine, and i didn’t realise it that it means i am “the blogger of the month” August 2018 ! How exciting is that after only having been a member for a very short time?


Thats my little bit of news for this gloomy Monday night.
I hope you all have a lovely on going week, and that its not as humid where you are as it is here.
You can read the “interview” here!

Its never too early in the year for long johns. Ever.