fifty shades of bland

Fifty shades of bland; thats what my childhood home in Sand Bay, UK has been turned into.  Not many of us spend the rest of our adult lives in our childhood homes, but when we sold ours a few years ago i desperately hoped she wouldn’t be turned into some modern monstrosity. The trees my mother grew in the front garden, with her many potted flowers that bloomed in the summer — were all torn from their beds. Outside the house was painted white with black borders. It looks like they’d made some poor attempt to make it look like a Danish summer house, but the difference is that Danish homes tend to be warm and cozy — even if they are white.

The inside of the house now looks like a sad sterile hospital wing form a grotesque horror movie with too many slasher shots. It hurt my heart, i could barely recognise which room is which. The people who bought the house from us bought it to flip it, and she lost the beautiful cottage feel. I guess it also hurts because it will never be how i remember it. Her walls pulled down and her garden up rooted to look like some construction plant.

Damn, it sucks so bad. It hurt me more than i’d have anticipated, all i can say is that i bet the ghosts in that house are livid.
Has anyone ever experienced this before? Do your family still live in your childhood home?

Home
My pictures of my house are lost somewhere on my hard drive, so i stole this from my papKent. This is how i’ll choose to remember her. Warm, happy and full of life and character.

a new year

I missed a’couple days on the blog. We spent a lot of time with my brother and everyday ended with all of us on the sofa watching crime programs, insisting we could’ve solved the murders in half the time and judging the suspects. Eating christmas sweets and delicious meals.
When the end of my time in Denmark rolls around i start to slow down, unsure i want to go home and whether the long travels back and forth are worth the heartache when i have to say goodbye. Its the time i feel the most uncertainty about living in America. But i fear that Denmark in the long wrong would plain bore me to death, but on the other hand — seeing family whenever i felt like it .. that’d be something i’ve never had before. Being in a place where nothing happens and nothing is trying to kill me… And eating the only food that i love. Excluding Whataburger and Mexican food… because both are life.

living room with christmas tree
lovely living room
cup of tea
danish tea in the morning, thats how a morning should begin

In the last few days we visited my sisters house and took a walk in the woods together. After plodding around the back woods we went back to her place and watched a horror film before going home to New Years Eve dinner at my parents house. I don’t really enjoy going much around the holiday season. I’d rather chill, have good food and then end the night with a movie. Im a slow going soul.

full selfie
movie time

I missed half the film we were watching because outside the window was a heavy pink beam slipping through the window panes. I looked at Jack and he smiled.
“I know. Go on.” He said as i grabbed my bag and ran into the late afternoon.
It was such a beautiful sundown, she slid behind the trees and kissed the little lake at the bottom of my sisters garden through gnarled branches. So ofcourse, i missed the climax of the film as well as the end. I took pictures and filmed with whatever battery life i had left — which wasn’t much. When i was done i just sat for a while. Just Denmark and Me. Nothing had to be said or cried about. No worries at all in my pocket. I just wanted to be alone with the sun rolling away.

selfie
that wind swept look

New years day was a really lovely day. Relaxed and quiet.  My brother bought a huge box of fireworks and for the first time i fired some as well. Fireworks kinda freak me out with the loud noises and disturbing the peace, but i really enjoyed having my brother encourage me and stand with me as i lit the fuse. Little moments slowly restore a lost faith in humanity. Jack ran around in boots and a cowboy hat Yeehawing as he lit rocket after rocket, he wore clothes too… just FYI.

new year eve table
family dinner on new years eve

I wont lie and say that i’m happy to be home. I’m not. I’m happy to be around my own things, and excited to get classes started and over with. Obviously im desperately dreading going back to work everyday, as everyone does, but partly for me its because i know if i worked a little harder and focused a little more; i could be making some money selling books on whores and poetry.
However, ultimately, i miss Denmark like hell. I always do but this time was the hardest it’s ever been to get up and leave, to say goodbye. I watched our journey in flight and as the plane icon ebbed away from Billund i felt like my heart was going to hollow in my foot forever. Waving goodbye to my parents at the airport was awful. I smiled and waved but behind the scenes, when we were all out of sight, was Jack picking me up and wiping a flood of tears away. Because leaving my mother — is the worst.

Today we’ve been catching up on post and getting shopping because all we had in the fridge was a lonely beer. On the way to walmart the familiar country tunes sang at their lungs with new meaning. So this song, that to me today now has a face, i dedicate to my Mor.

I wish you a grand new year, and i hope you make good like changes instead of bad resolutions you can’t keep.

our first month

We’ve officially been here a month as of last week, and it’s already been one hell of a ride.
It’s been wonderful. Scary. Stressful x 10. Hard. Exhausting. But we’re here and we’re making it work. Many things have  happened already.
So in it’s honour — the anniversary of yet another big adventure —  here is a minefield of pictures from our first month back in the West.