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.

awake

I’ve been awake since 3.46am this morning and i’m stuck watching middle-aged housewives bitch eachother out on tv. Clearly being rich kept women isnt all its cracked up to be. Around 10am my brother, Jack and i are going to have breakfast at mormor and morfars house which is always a good way to start the day.

Awake

I’ve been having trouble sleeping, something very familiar to me for many reasons, but instead staring aimlessly at the ceiling counting political sheep i venture outside to watch Denmark wake up. Yesterday morning was Christmas morning and i watched the sunrise by myself whilst my camera filmed a timelapse. I scurried around the grounds filming birds flying over the fields and resting in the pine tops. I keep hoping ill see the deer my mother keeps talking about but no luck as of yet.

Last night we celebrated Christmas with my farmor, she makes the best risalamande any side of any place. It was nice to be just 5 of us. Franck, Steph, Jack, Farmor and myself. Laid back, easy and hyggeligt. You don’t need more than that.

It was a lovely Jul with a lot of laughter, story telling and word repetition cause im deaf as a bloodhound with a deficet.

I was falling asleep in the chair by the end of the night, as i am always prone to do, like some father with too happy family. So when we came back to the hotel room we’re sharing i passed out… got 5 hours sleep and here i am. Counting the damn minutes to the menfolk wakes up from their infernal snores.

Im not sure what our day will bring today, but i hope its a simple one. We all talked about visiting town even though everything is closed, but mostly to see familiar places and enjoy the calmness of the morning after Christmas.
Im really glad i set up to blog from my phone — it makes it a lot more convienient when im on the road.. which i am a lot. I found an app to resize my pictures too. Dont get me wrong i prefer posting DSLR pics but its nice to go back to plain basics now and again.

Glædelig jul og god nytår!

And a happy christmas to those of you who are celebrating today.

find yourself amongst the stones

The snow falls for many months in the winter here, heavier than it would in Denmark and its one of the few things about New England i actually love. Leaving the heavy bustle of apartment living and cities to go through the woods in the snow, is a welcome retreat for me.
Feeling the great spirit of everything around me. The rustling in the woods of the deer, Thor brewing another storm and just being able to truly breathe.
I don’t have my little plot of land with yet, so wilderness is my freedom till that day comes.
As many of you know, you grow older and the hardships start to pile and bring you down to earth where the worms live. The ground is tough in every land and you have to work to make those flowers grow. They may not grow in Texas the way they do in Denmark, but no matter how hard and covered in ice the ground becomes — when the seasons bloom as do the flowers.

trolls across the pond

Ever since i was a child i was frightened of wandering into the woods alone.
There were all kinds of darknesses between the gnarled tree trunks, and the tricksters hiding under a blanket of moss that covered the forest bed. I always had the feeling that i was a little girl in a H.C Andersen fairytale. The gloom of his depresses and the depth of his fantastical visions ever present in the Danish countryside that i grew up in. Life had lessons for me even then, and the innocence was always laced in a dim light of frightening events.


All my life i’ve believed in the legends of norse mythology.
Trolls eating rocks and all the bad little children. Having a house nisse to keep your home safe and Thor hammering mjölnir into the sky when he’s angry.


After all these years im glad those childish beliefs and thoughts have never left me. Still now, as i wander through the thicket of a forest and climb the crumpled stones — i think of those mountain kings, the big nosed trolls and the bad witches. I wonder what they’re doing and if they are with me on turtle island — or if they keep to the nordic scapes alone.
I wonder if i ran into a troll if he would speak in tongues.


In truth i contemplate if i am a viking alone on a vast continent of settlers, and thats all there is to it. I have no kinship and no ancestors here, but i believe that thor still pisses through the clouds when hes drunk — and that odin still watches over me when times are tough.


I am so thankful for my heritage, my history and where i come from.
An old country kid from danish farm country, blood of the vikings and ravens as my guardian angels.
This blog post is nothing special — just random ramblings to clear my mind.

Happy Thursday!