putting order to chaos, spiders outside, and the rules of grammar into a single document

in the next three hours i will:

• fold this and put it away, and wait for it to get dirty again so i can wash it, pile it all on the couch over the course of two days, and fold it and put it away again... 

• vacuum the carpet (and the floors and under the radiators and behind the radiators and in the corners at the top of the walls and the bottom of the walls and the kitchen cabinets that get played in on a regular basis)

• pick up the little pieces that are migrating down the stairs to the edges of baby jail

• organize the books william overturned in an attempt to find the three he wanted to read

• escort out the door, all four of these lovely spiders-- as soon as the other two come out of hiding.

for the record, this does not appear to be representative of the spider count in our house.  after a quick check it seems that 80% of the spiders took up residence in this little nook.  co-housing... it's the danish way.  

• keep working on my novel.  

and feel grateful and hopeful to complete these tasks while living here in denmark.  

language

in school, as far as i can remember, we were all native english speakers learning french.  now, a different 'we' are a class with a majority of non-native english speakers learning danish, in english.  i'm of course, in the minority, along with four other students.  i don't know how much more difficult it makes learning danish for everyone else, if at all, because i'm not fluent in another language so i can't really imagine it.  i often fill in the missing pieces with french when i'm unsuccessfully trying to string together a danish sentence.  still, i've been out of french class for so long that i would probably struggle to string together a complete sentence in that language.  it's humbling to be learning danish next to classmates who are already fluent in two (or more) languages, and to think that the communication i've had with (nearly) every single person since i've been here, has worked, only because they are all fluent in more than one language, namely, english.  so of course we'd (not all. some.) think that in america we don't need to learn other languages-- because everyone speaks english (which of course isn't true).  but so frustrating too, that children have an innate capacity to learn more than one language and we don't, as a nation, take advantage of it.  i feel really lucky, but that's it, just really lucky, that henry and william will pick up another language.  i wish every kid in the u.s. could.  

there are signs that william is starting to internalize a little danish-- his new word: nej (pronounced "nye").  for the last day or two, he hasn't said, "no" but he's said a lot of "nej."  and henry's been practicing "hi" or maybe "hej"(pronounced "hi")-- hard to say which.  and i've started typing out my danish class novel, which i'm hoping will help me learn.  

rain today.  that's good.  but cold.  less good.  

quiet on the fjord... 

camouflaged swan...

sheep today...

goodnight! 

tuesday

i don't like household budgets.  they feel like diets.  we've tried budgeting in the past, but like a diet, it doesn't last.  which has been like quitting a cabbage soup diet to resume "good lifestyle habits" instead.  you don't need to diet if you're eating healthily.  you don't need to budget if you're living modestly.  at least that philosophy seemed to work for us.  we don't buy excessively or have credit card debt.  very little in the way of 'fancy gadgets' (a laptop, one employer-provided smurf phone, a shortwave radio-- does that count?). it just seemed like the 'budget' people were never intending us as their audience. maybe we weren't going to get rich the way we were doing things, but neither did we obsess over each penny, which felt like a healthy detachment.

but moving to denmark is like moving to a country where all the food is fried, except the cabbage.  living here on one income is like deep frying with trans fats.  after the first few months of letting the new cuisine take its toll, we're looking up the cabbage soup recipes.  the situation is maybe not so dire.  really, we (i) just want to be able to travel around a bit (a lot) while we're here, and we have to furnish a place.  i know i talked about this in a previous post, but that was back when we were just cutting out ice cream.  now we can buy ice cream again as long as it fits into our weekly allotment.  more than ice cream i'd like to take an overnight train to paris, or visit our friends in great britain.  eat turkish delight in istanbul.  things i just won't likely be able to do once we leave... not with two little kids and our get-rich-in-the-next-lifetime strategy.

so, we'll focus on pennies and cabbage soup for now.  actually, black-eyed peas (prosperity!).  did you know that if you heat them up with some leeks and mushrooms (and butter) and some of last night's leftovers-- new potatoes (in balsamic, garlic, and olive oil), tomatoes, and ground beef and onions, topped with some yogurt, it's quite a satisfying meal?

no pictures today.  back to earmuffs and wishing i'd worn my mittens on the ride to pick up the guys from school.  wondering why i didn't take out my summer clothes earlier to get full use of them last week.  clouds reasserted a dominant position in the sky until late in the afternoon, and i note that five years ago today, i had this to say...

yep, go figure.

fjord monday

the streak of blue skies and warm days was not broken today, though i hear the end is coming.  i finally went up and brought down most of my summer clothing and moved long-sleeved shirts and long pants out, and short-sleeved shirts and shorts and skirts in, with a distinct feeling that this was a short-lived move, in comparison to how it might be if i were doing this in the states.  a task that would have probably occurred a month ago over there.  but i don't envy the intense, humid heat i would be experiencing if life had taken a different course.  easy to say now, when i was so longing for warm weather earlier in the season.  

today we went to the fjord.  around the bend there is a beach, not a 10 minute bike ride away.  

the (phone) camera was up to some strange business for the first bunch of shots, but you get the general idea here... 

not a sandy beach, though there is some sand between the grass and rocky shore.  henry, wearing half of a pair of sandals he should and (if he doesn't lose them) will be wearing next summer.

the shore.  plenty of algae to get that madison, lake mendota feel...

william went into the water with greg.  he has always loved the water, except for maybe one or two saturdays in a row last summer when he decided he did not like swimming lessons.  but i don't think that had anything to do with the water.  more about the idea of participating in a structured group activity.  later he jumped off a long dock down to greg.  they waded alongside jellyfish.  henry would have jumped in too had i not glued my hand to his.


warming up, after a swim...

the littler... contemplating, probably, his next move...

throwing rocks...

summer attire...

when we got back home, we had dinner outside with neighbors.  greg made a strawberry and rhubarb cobbler... with a little danish twist...

tomorrow, the work week begins, for us, for you, so for now, to bed!

cirkus!

yesterday we had a carnival.  today we have the circus.  

while leaving our neighborhood yesterday to get to the train station, we pedaled past the field adjacent to the super best, which had, overnight, sprouted orange and yellow tents and trailers and campers.

the circus had come to town.

"maybe we should go," i suggested hopefully to greg.  i have mixed feelings about circuses.  it's where i staged my first protest of memory-- as a kid, refusing to applaud during any of the animal acts, because they looked so humiliated, or i felt humiliated, watching them do silly tricks for a laughing audience.  and yet, it's the circus.  doesn't every kid have to go to the circus at some point?  plus, i like the idea of watching the acrobats do seemingly impossible tricks, or at least tricks that are certainly impossible for everyone who is not an acrobat. though today it felt like they were not getting nearly the appreciation they deserved.  like a standing ovation, or higher wages (of course i've no idea how much they're paid), or a grander stage to show off their talents.  but yesterday evening as we rode home from the train station they were all sitting outside around a table, eating leisurely and seeming to enjoy being together on a warm, spring night.  it kind of made me want to join the circus.  i'm easily moved.

greg suggested i take william, making the good point that henry probably would not sit still for it.  "it's here for two days," i said.  "i can take him tomorrow, you can take him on monday!"

"that's okay," he said. "i really don't need to go to the circus."  he doesn't have that gene i have that makes me excited to sit passively and be entertained by a performance, a graduation, a wedding.

so, decision made.  this afternoon, we walk down the street, to see william's first circus...

we wander the grounds before the show begins.  alas, even this small circus comes with animals... sigh.  i'll take up my protest.

goose and gander circus performers

goat circus performer

on the way into the tent, william shows me his ticket...

inside the tent...

the circus...

intermission.  it's hot inside the tent.  everyone is heading for the refreshment stand.  william sees a boy with a red slushie.  "mama, i want one of those."  this is the circus.  you make exceptions for healthy eating at circuses, carnivals, baseball games, and swimming pools.  "okay," i say.  "it looks like they have blue, red, or purple. which color would you like?"  "purple," says william.  i ask the woman for a purple slushie.  she is confused and i don't know if it's because she only speaks danish and i have spoken to her in english or for some other reason.  she points to the blue.  "no, the purple," i say, pointing.  "we have blue, red, and black."  "black?" i think.  "what is black?  black licorice?"  "william, do you want black?"  he doesn't hear my question over the noise of the crowd, which is getting antsy for their own slushies.  "okay, sure, we'll take black," i decide.  when we get it, it is more like brown.  much more.  "can i try that?" i ask him.  cola flavored.  crud.  he's never had coke.  does this count?  it's not carbonated.  i don't know if it's caffeinated, but it's certainly possible given that he's lying on the couch whispering to himself as i type this at 9:40 p.m., having already tried and failed on account of his own restlessness, to fall asleep in the darkened bedroom.

intermission mistake

back inside, second half...

as we leave, i ask him which part of the circus he enjoyed a lot.  "popping the bubbles," he said.

if i am easily moved... he is easily entertained.  in his case, i'll take that as a good thing.  meanwhile, i will promise not to run away with the circus when it leaves town tomorrow night.

carnival

a warm, sunny morning.  we slept in until almost 8, so no running group for greg and the guys today.  

but henry, going in and out... 

looks can be deceiving.  william is playing on the freedom-side of baby jail if you ask henry.

notice the travel highchair we finally bought to make our mealtimes 68% easier.

but we don't stay home for too long.  this weekend is the copenhagen carnival and we will meet some neighbors there.  so we pack a lunch (and some extra clothes in case of accidents, william's sandals in case he changes his mind about his tennis shoes or jumps into a fountain, hats for the sun, diapers and wipes for henny, sunscreen for reapplication purposes, an old towel, for whatever reason we may need one) and head for the big city to our east.

on the walk to the carnival...

pink

we reach the big park adjacent to the carnival grounds and take a playground-lunch stop...

william, scoping out the playground situation...

lunch. turns out i'm the only one who will eat more than a bite of celery in this family.

we walk through the park, littered with trash. presumably from the night before?  everywhere, cans and bottles which can be turned in for cash, but at two in the afternoon, still lie there.  would this happen in the united states?

at the carnival... finishing lunch...

modeling his new fire fighter helmet from the copenhagen fire department...

watching the football game on the big screen.
maybe they were rooting for brazil, because denmark was not doing so well...

neighbors...

two williams...

mr. henry, who'd spent much of the day behind me, in the ergo...

a carnival-- music, midway, cotton candy (candy floss in denmark), popcorn, sitting in the grass, playing in the dirt, and for the walk back... a little ice cream...

this is before william decided to finish it from the bottom up...

don't tell henry what he's missing back there...

you might notice the drips on william's pants and, somehow, the backpack by this point... later, greg's hat and shoulder sleeve succumb...

i can't say that either of our children ever look 100% presentable on our watch, but here you see we do try to clean them up every now and then.  not sure how his hair is standing up like that, but i've said before, it defies gravity...

a picture to show you how kids in copenhagen get around town...

 a train ride home...

a lovely way to spend a day that feels like summer.