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?

could you close your flap so i don’t fore go my boiled eggs?

It was a quiet weekend here with us. We’ve taken walks away from everyone, and right now Jack is taking care of the shopping whilst i sit in the car to limit the chances of covid exposure. I don’t mind all that much because i dislike shopping — Walmart being mostly the only option. Since we’ve been staying at home most of the time i’ve been finishing projects and starting new ones. Lately i’ve started playing a new instrument, i’ve been finishing knitting projects for etsy and have the mind to work some on my novel writing and dreading the search for rejecting literary agents. I’ve also started working on digital drawing using photoshop (which is a lot harder than it sounds). I’ve already worked on a few logos and tshirt designs for the horse revival i volunteer with. Next week we’re going out to pick up a new mustang from northern Wyoming. I’m pretty excited and pleased, because we tried to go get the poor thing last week and were sure it was going to get shot in the field due to ridiculous issues. However, it seems we’ll get another chance to go and get him next week. Fingers crossed.


As for staying home and the social distancing, i like it. I’ve always crossed the road when someone can my direction on a walk – so thats not new. I actually think i get a lot more done at home, i’m more productive even since my job has become crazy during this entire pandemic started and again, fitting in the writing is the tough part.
I also called Pat today, my good old sailing friend, i’ve been meaning to call him for weeks now but i hadn’t got around to it. How we talked and laughed like old times, it was so good for my bones. I can continue a little longer. We talked about boats Jack and i might buy to live on one day when we return to Texas. We laughed about forepeaks and i was honoured when i found that one of the lines i’d made for his sails was still holding strong — one of his prized possessions he said. That is a great compliment from a galant man of the sea. I don’t have friends as such, i’m a very internal person. I’ll perform for an audience but i wont talk to them after. So you can imagine how important he is to me.

I think thats about all from me, i’ve been suffering from a ghastly headache all day and night, so i think i’ll see goodbye and hope you write more when i feel better.

Stay safe and stay home..

i’ve been gone from home a long damn time now


I’ve been gone from home a long damn time now. I don’t remember it much, the memories escape me and are beginning to seem like nightmares, some of the good dreams appearing like golden stones amongst all the broken rocks on all those beaches i once watched stretch far as the eye could see — while i sailed around the South West Coast of England. For many years i blamed England for a lot of things, my hardest living was on those shores and it gave me that cynical shell i so like to stew in but lately i’ve been missing home. The good house on Sand Road that now stands ruined by modern greed, the bay where i’d run into the sea in the middle of winter and wave the pirates by — waiting till i was old enough to go with them. Where i was soft hearted, and i was truly. I’d go and see the fine commodore, my dearest friend, and talk about all the things he’d seen and he’d tell me of the writer he knew i’d be. When all was deaftly quiet i would tell him..
“If something happens while i’m gone,” i’d say all choked up and taking a long look at my once only friend. “You come and you tell me yourself, no matter how you go. You find a way to tell me — and you promise to visit me.”
“Oh Izzie, i will. I’ll sit in a dark corner with a bottle of good chardonnay and boo at you as much as you like.
It’s a tough life living on wheels and wings and strange intentions. But thats me, whether i asked for it or not. Honestly, i think i always knew that i would never live any place forever and thats why i still to this day am very dubious about letting folks in. Whats the point when i wont be around long enough for anything to matter?


For the rest of my life my heart will always be a little broken and lost, with no real place thats mine and as the years go by i’m beginning to get real square with it. Lately i’ve found everything hard and i don’t mean that to seem bad, its not necessarily. I’m still here to ride through it, right? I don’t really understand what i’m meant for. To move from place to place like my traveller ancestors? To sail out in the venturous sea like my forefathers and gods or if i am simply bred to exist and talk about whatever my hearts dreaming of?  I could be dead before i find that out, which tells me thats not that important.
England, old girl and sailors haven, how i miss you today. And i suppose it’ll always been on the heart of my sleeve, but i forgive her now. I’ve hit the age that i can forgive her and i hope she forgives me, perhaps now we may both have peace. It took me moving to the western world where the sand is red like blood, the wind is a bitch and where i see possibilities where there are only stray mustangs and jagged cliffs — for me to realise that England made me hardy girl.
Summers beginning to loom in, teasing us with her random warm days full of sunshine from here to China. I’ve never wished for Summer more than i am lately. Winter in Wyoming wasn’t as bad as we’d been told it would be, but it feels like we’ve been living in the cold for 5 years and seen very little of good sunshine. Suppose we’re missing our Texas sunrises and hot afternoons with bees buzzing about us like poverty ridden men with no water.

Wyoming was one of my favourite places when we first moved here, i loved it before i started working. It was a free place where i could see Calamity Jane in the street and hear her drunken cussing as she rode into the dark. Since then, i’ve started to realise — as much as i like it here and enjoy the landscape, theres too much willing us onwards a final time, or southwards i guess. Perhaps if my situation was different and i was living like a western author i could see about living here for years to come, but Its not Texas. Its not a place we can run to when shit hits the fan, theres no Matt Le Blanc to talk through life’s troubles with and love til the day we all die, no Van Roekel or Madeley to laugh and live with. Texas, why the thought of her now sends tears to my eyes and sends my heart into absolutely frustration. The home where i fell in love with a Texas boy, and the little dog at his feet who loved me through all my faults.


While i sat on this rock and waited for the camera to click, my life flew by like a stone through a window. I never dreamed i’d be where i was. I never would’ve believed that that person sat right there — would be me. But it is. Im tough, i’m honest and getting there. I pretty rough around the edges after all these years and a lot of scars richer than before. Wyoming inspired me and gave me the push i needed to finish my novel, something i never believed i’d achieve. I have finished it and while the rest of the world is crying in a pandemic, all i can think about is my novel and the new venture i’m about to embark on. I’ll always be who i was, and i’ll always keep changing.

I wanted to go out to take pictures on Saturday, i had this feeling that i needed to get out out out. So we took a walk by the outskirts of town. We found new places to explore when the summer finally shows up. I sat down and played my flute a while as i listened to the wind, Jack holding my camera up so the wind wouldn’t knock it over and thats were this little bleeding notion hit me, and thats what i’m doing here. Sharing it with you.