Gunnar Rasmussens Hjemmeside

"Have a good day", a phrase often heard.
But what is a "good day"? I think we all have our own definition. Here are my 10:
1) A day I hear that children, in-laws and especially grandchildren are doing well and are happy.
2) A day my computer is not irritating me.
3) A day I am with family or good friends.
4) A day Matron forgets to give me a work sheet before she is off for work.
5) A day when I get something done about my writing.
6) A day Matron tells me that she is fond of me.
7) A day I get a good report from my doctor or hospital.
8) A day I ride 50-100 kilometers on my bike and feel good afterwards.
9) A day I walk for 2 hours without getting a sore hip.
10) A day I am looking forward for tomorrow.

We dod not use seahorse in our minced fish meat.

This morning when Matron and I enjoyed our morning tea in bed, we decided that today was to become a day without experiences that could bring our pulse over 60
We succeeded - almost. See later.
Today's major and almost only event was without any doubt lunch, prepared with heart and soul by my sweet wife. In particular the open sandwich called "Veterinarian's Midnight Snack" was good, good pâté, excellent salted meat and quivering jellies. What could one wish more? A good herring? That I got too.
Should I venture an objection, it might be that there were no fish balls and that in spite of the fact that you can get minced fish meat without seahorse (see photo - and see translation by placing cursor on photo). It really is not easy to get any meat without horse nowadays.
And now back to the pulse that should not get any higher than 60
It did. Caught by the occasion of yesterday when the first TV transmission from a bike race was on TV, I mounted my exercise bike and rode at full speed most of the time during a ride of half an hour. Had I at lunch time known that I would ride so hard I would have ate some more and told Matron to go and pick up some minced fish meat at the nearest supermarket - with or without seahorse.

About a year ago youngest daughter's family bought a dog, a West Highland Terrier, a "Westie", obeying the name Tapsie - when it suits her.
A "Westie" is a small dog but has an ego like a Rottweiler.
The family has sent Tapsie to dog school, and today was "Grandparents day" so Matron and myself were invited to attend classes.
Tapsy started in kindergarten 2 weeks ago. She will probably remain there for quite some time, since the new words, "down", "sit" and "heel" are not within her vocabulary. Also contact exercises when the dog is expected to look anxiously at her owner and nothing else until given a command is part of the class curriculum, as seen in the first photo!!!!
But Tapsie enjoyed herself very much and proved good at passing built up obstacles and playing with other dogs. But she is definitely a nice and friendly dog.

It is a serious matter finding another dentist when for 30-35 years you have had a very good one, now retired. But he also was quite expensive. I forbade him wearing sandals. When he asked why he got it right in his face, "If you Wear sandals you will also steal with your toes." We laughed at that many times, at least I did. I thought it was a good one.
But now I've found a new dentist. Of course I have sought information and has been recommended a young man of 40-45 years not far from here. Distance plays a role, but of course most important are his qualifications, not least his ability to anesthetize of which my previous dental operator was world champion.
So, now my new, hopefully cheap and skilled, nice dentist, will be allowed to rummaging around among my old teeth. His debut will be a lost filling and a slightly damaged tooth. I have booked a time.
I shall later report on it. It will not be within the next few days. I need to save up some money first.

I have through a long "dog life" known an incredible number of dogs, some of which were a little different.
For example, I knew a bitch who peed like a dog, I mean lifted a hind leg.
I knew two dogs that smiled. When they were happy they exposed their teeth and smiled. Sometimes it was difficult for strangers to read this signal. But the dogs only did so when they were happy.
I could cite many other "strange" dogs.
But today I experienced a dachshund with a habit, I did not know.
It absolutely loves a cup of coffee. Every morning and a few times during the day it gets a cup of this excellent fluid. However, it wants milk in it. The dog also likes a cup of tea, but with no milk.
I asked the owner if perhaps it also wanted a brandy and a cigarette with its coffee or tea.
This was not a request from the dog's side though.

Today I became acquainted with a number of odd laws of different countries, mind you still applicable laws (Ekstra Bladet online newspaper).
In my mind they sound totally stupid but they are said to be true.
- In the UK, pregnant women may urinate when and where they want, even in a bobby's helmet - if he accepts it.
- It is illegal to die in the English Parliament. So if you are on your last legs, go outside and die. What the penalty is if you do not reach it I don't know.
- In the city of York you may kill a Scotsman who is running around with bow and arrow.
- Do not try to stop a taxi in London if you have a body with your arm - or if your dog has rabies. In those cases the taxi driver is not allowed to drive you.
- In Illinois, USA, you may cross through red light if you are on a motorcycle or bicycle.
- In Indonesia, it is forbidden for women to be taller than their husbands.
A series of strange laws, I think. But what about this one?
- Here in our house, the person who is last up does the beds.
Another stupid law.

Being visited by old friends and enjoying a good lunch in good company is one of my favorite pasttimes, exactly as it happened today. I enjoy being part of a solid group where conversation is pleasantly nice and virtually without a break. Furthermore it is a comfortable advantage that you can tell exactly the same that you told last time, no one thinks badly about it. They have forgotten what they heard last time.
So there we sit repeating ourselves. It is not that we mind telling something new, for example, what happened during the recent days. We just can't because we have forgotten what it was. Our short-term memory is off.
We remember everything that happened 25-50 years ago but we have forgotten what we had for breakfast this morning.

It was an improvised lunch that matron served today, fried plaice, fish meatballs, and a 'curl' (smoked belly skin of a porbeagle shark) served with black bread, bit of salt, and a little tartar sauce (remoulade).
I love eating fish, so it all fell within the framework of what I refer to as a "successful" lunch. I am very fond of successful lunches. And we shouldn't even have had any.
This is how it happened.
Matron was out shopping on her own and happened to spot a fish sellar in a kind of caravan outside a supermarket. He sold Matron the good ingredients of my good lunch.
She is so kind to me, is matron. And I would not feel sorry to have fish once again tomorrow.

We have had to face the fact that a good friend passed away yesterday, Matron's computer. Full of days and worn out by the many games of solitaire and bubble-shooter that have been played on it, it drew its last breath and closed down completely. Sad. It was only 2 years and 1 month. May it rest in one peace - which is unlikely, since youngest grandson has taken over, and he is known for his heavy-handed handling of deceased computers - and also live ones for that matter.
In any case, yesterday's death ruled out our doubts that a new one should be purchasedSo together we set off this morning, and went to a computer shop in the northern part of town with the purpose of acquiring a "Packard Bell" laptop which is now residing on our coffee table.
May it have a long,happy, and useful life with us.

What do we have? Winter
What do we want? Spring.
When will it come? In approx. 1 ½ months.
Is that good enough? No, never.
Can we do something about it? Yes, think positive. Create spring inside yourself. Drink an Easter Brew, or look at the image from our garden.

The whole gang at the local newspaper in Silkeborg in 1957.

The attached photo brings a multitude of memories to me. It is from 1957 and shows the total staff at the Silkeborg Newspaper.
The memories come to me because I from 1958 and the following 4-5 years often replaced as a driver and handyman while I was studying at college.
Typically I met at 1 o'clock pm. even if teaching didn't end till 3 pm. Here's my confession. I played truant, could not afford otherwise, had to earn a bit for my studies.
At 1.30 the van was loaded and out it went on a trip of 135 km. distributing packets of newspapers.
I am pleased about the photo in spite of some blurring because I recognize 1/3 of the participants.
There we have Mr. Nielsen, far left in the back row. He was the one I replaced, and Jørgen Skoubo is there, middle of the back row, and also my sweet sister-in-law, Grete, is to be seen in the second row, no. 3 from the right.
I could mention many others, Karl Korsgaard, Svend Frandsen, Holger Mikkelsen and the old editor, the stout man in the middle of the front row in the slightly darker coat.
All these people were once my colleagues, many of them kind and funny and some the opposite.

But I like to think back on them.

For some time it has been a daily irritation that our laptop has refused to go on the Internet. Access was apparently banned - no e-mail, no nothing.
It was annoying. I tried all the tricks I know, but without success. I had a strong feeling that it was our wireless router that played up.
Finally, I had only one thing to do, call my supplier, the TDC.
That was good experience. Quick and friendly service, and today I was contacted by a technician who was sitting somewhere with all his computers in front of him. He said that he would look into the matter, and 5 minutes later the computer worked again.
Things like that impress me, even though perhaps they should not. I find it impressing that a man can sit at a distant place and fix my wireless router in my house. I was right. It was the router that had failed.
I never saw the man, only talked with him. Could be the young man on the photo?
Brave new world.

Morning tea in bed is a rare event with us. The reason being that Matron and I wake up at different times, she at about 7:30 am and I about 9:30 (maybe a bit later).
Today, however, I woke up at. 7.30, rubbed my eyes, saw my sweet wife, and said in my most prayerful voice if it as an exception and as a sign of goodwill might be possible to have a cup of tea and a few pieces of bread here in my bed.
I was told that it was absolutely possible - if I did it myself.
I had my tea and pieces of bread. "If you do it yourself you are sure it is good," as my mother always said.
Well, I could at least rejoice that for the first time in maybe 15 years I managed to get my morning tea in bed. I appreciated it. Thank you, dear Gunnar for your initiative.

Matron is pretty strict about our shoe rack. Shoes should be lined up very accurately on it and it is a mortal sin to leave a pair on the floor in front of the rag. I did today. And immediately it hailed with reproaches which I could not stop, not even by saying that I would put my shoes up before guests might come. And we do not expect any today. It wasn't enough, there was no mercy.
So up came my shoes.
I have just today read that tidiness is named "Virtue of the Month". In that case it is fortunate that we are in the shortest month, February because I do not possess the ability to keep order. And I know one who agrees with me and who at least once a day reminds me of it.

She says I'm a "mess" both in terms of tidying and dressing.
I must put up with a lot.

I have recently quite anxiously followed the debate in all medias on horse meat mixed into beef. One must truly say that it has attracted some attention.
Now, it's not very nice of the Romanian/Italian mafia to try cheating for paltry gains. Shame on them.
However I should not complain since I have never bought Findus Lasagne, which seems to be half horse and half beef. I never knew where to buy it.

But it is a fact, though, that horse meat is much healthier than beef because it is leaner. So for that reason alone those who were cheated should rejoice their purchase instead of blaming poor Findus that has had to withdraw all its lasagne from shops.
But perhaps they shouldn't have done it. No doubt it must be healthy to eat it if for example you were lucky enough to get horsemeat from last year's derby winner - if only of course it was not too drugged. But then again. That may give you extra power for a day or two.

May I also point out that in my childhood meat balls of minced horsemeat were quite common at our dinner table. That is why I am so healthy.
So relax. Go and buy some Findus lasagna in the hope that at least half is horse meat. It will be good for you.

Just looking at the picture makes me shiver.

I do not like it. I can't accept it. It's annoying. No, I hate it.
The weather, that is.
My heat meter gets a cold shock.
I am as sensitive to cold weather as few.
Just today I read in an online newspaper that at least the next week will see frost around the clock, down to 10 degrees below zero, or perhaps even colder.

It is school winter holiday now. And one must say that is living too well up to its name, as opposed to the summer holiday, which does it only very rarely.
I have previously unsuccessfully tried with the solution of recruiting Italian meteorologists or possibly African. But none of them want to go. In total agreement they argue that it is bitterly cold up here. So what? I do too. But I am still here.
Left now is only one solution. Ask for a UN resolution which would prohibit all habitation north of the Alps.

The Occupation Museum in central Aarhus just at the cathedral.

Today I visited the Occupation Museum in Aarhus.
It is not the first time. In fact, I have been there numerous times and almost always with a grandchild. Also today.
I like walking around with the young people telling about a time that I myself experienced - albeit very young. The youngster's questions makes it all more exciting. Also today.
We are lucky that each time we seem to meet other people of my age or older who would also start telling about the 5 years' occupation. Also today.
A man could tell about some illegal newspapers, he had found hidden in a house.
An elderly lady could tell about the notorious informer Grethe Bartram who lived in Aarhus. After the occupation she was sentenced to death but an appeal gave her 11 years' prison and after that she was deported and spent the rest of her life in Sweden.
Both I and granddaughter enjoyed listening to the two of them.
So we learned a lot and enjoyed ourselves - including a subsequent visit to "Sunset Boulevard" for a nice lunch. They serve extremely good burgers.

I feel a little cheated. A few day ago I was told that I woulld like to go to Bilka today. I protested in my most heartbreaking way, but was comforted by the fact that it was not "real" Bilka. It was a sale (outlet, they called it) in a warehouse at Risskov, not too far away.
So I left in a good mood together with my indispensable Matron.
But my goodness! What an chaos the sweet lady had lured me into.
We arrived a little before opening time, and the queue was a mile long (There were more people than you see on the picture), and it was quite cold.
So there we stood shivering, we poor people who can only afford things bought on a sale. Eventually we came in. Oh, dear oh dear. Thousands of people.
In vain we looked around for 1) something we needed and 2) something that was cheap.
Neither was found at all. But it took very long time to find out.

That I'm crazy about bike racing, no matter how much riders use EPO and other substances is known perhaps by most of my readers. That's just how it is.
And my joy is not diminished by reading some quotes from one of the most famous riders, German Jens Voigt. He is an intelligent and cunning rider who with his very good English with distinct German accent gives us a lot of amusing comments on his job as a top rider.
Just look at some of them:
“Shut up legs! Do what I tell you to do” .
“Having things organized is for small-minded people. A genius controls chaos”.
“I get paid to hurt other people, how good is that?”
”While I’m not very talented at cooking, I am very talented at eating".
”If it hurts me, it must hurt the other ones twice as much”.
”You have got to be as insane as the insanity around you”.
I like him.

Today I accompanied Matron to the city center in Aarhus.
She claimed that it was so long since she last was there that she did not recognize anything and that consequently there was a risk that she might get lost. So it was with concern I dropped her off at the end of the pedestrian street to join her later - if I could find her, that is.
But my worries were unfounded. 100 meters down the pedestrian street is a Tiger store. As my first choice I went in, and the reunion could take place.
Afterwards we visited the sweet lady's heart doctor, the real reason why we were there at all. Despite her alleged lack of sense of direction in central Aarhus she found the place quite easily.
We walked away with really good news. Everything was OK, so now I see no reason why I should do as much work at home as I do. It will be very nice. Good news indeed.

As a continuation of yesterday's report I would like go on with yet another story about guard dogs. This time, however, we are, I think, in the world of fantasy.
Never mind. I found it funny.
Two burglars break into a house. After entering, they heard a voice saying, "God has seen you. God has seen you." Perplexed they look around trying to figure out where the voice comes from. They open a few doors, and finally they succeed. They discover it is a parrot in its cage saying, "God has seen you."
With a relieved smile one of the thieves says, "Oh, blast, it's just a bird."
"Yes," said the parrot, "and God is just a huge Rottweiler".

Recently I read in a paper about various dogs' ability as guard dogs.
We have two dogs, Labradors. Their ability is questionable. They would probably make a terrible noise if someone came in uninvited. But then I do not know what will happen when from their 'safe' position under the sofa they would be barking away.
It was different with a police officer who lived in Egaa, not far from here, with his family and his police dog, an Alsatian.
One time the family went off for a weekend trip and as usual asked their neighbour wife to walk and feed the dog. The two knew each other quite well from previous similar occasions.
Sunday morning at 9 o'clock when the sweet neighbour came to do her "job" and entered the living room, she saw the garden door was forced open - and in a corner a trembling, young man was sitting on a chair. In front of him the dog sat very quietly. But every time the poor burglar moved the slightest he looked at a line of white teeth and heard an angry growl.
"Oh, please don't get up, it's alright that you sit down", the lady said quietly and called the police. They came very quickly and took the young and very smelly young man away. He had not been allowed to go to the toilet.
As it turned out he had been sitting there since Saturday about 6 p.m..

This week till now.

Monday: Matron made me a really delicious dinner - something with cabbage, vegetables, potatoes and very tasty meat balls

Tuesday: Lunch with good friends at Mols: Soup, tartlets, apple pie, white wine, beer and very tasty liquorice as an extra dessert

Wednesday: Birthday brunch at sister in law in Silkeborg. All sorts of cold cuts, cheese, pie, bread, rolls etc. with tea and coke - and very tasty and delicious Danish pastry.

Thursday: Tour deep into the EU. Shopping in style. Supermarkets gallore. Lunch: A giant sausage with fries and a very strong curry ketchup. There was also curry in the sausage. Powerful stuff.

Friday: Christmas lunch with old friends from 1 to 9 p.m. The first of its kind this year. And my goodness for a Christmas table. There was everything you could imagine, and a little more and beer and "snaps". Of course we finished with rice pudding with almonds, "rice-a la mande". What a calorie-bomb all in all.

Saturday: Golden wedding with old friends in the restaurant in Studstrup Marina. And what a menu, we were met with. Incredibly delicious dinner with exquisite red wine. And there was enough of everything.

Sunday: Very nice lunch with brother and sister-in-law at their summer cottage. Splendid view and splendid lunch. Enjoyed it all and ate it all. Well, left a bit for the rest of the party.

Conclusion on latest week: A very 'eatable' week. Lots of calories. Lovely food, and plenty of it.

Matron, though, has mentioned the word "DIET". Oh, horror.

This week till now.

Monday: Matron made me a really delicious dinner - something with cabbage, vegetables, potatoes and very tasty meat balls
Tuesday: Lunch with good friends at Mols: Soup, tartlets, apple pie, white wine, beer and very tasty liquorice as an extra dessert
Wednesday: Birthday brunch at sister in law in Silkeborg. All sorts of cold cuts, cheese, pie, bread, rolls etc. with tea and coke - and very tasty and delicious Danish pastry.
Thursday: Tour deep into the EU. Shopping in style. Supermarkets gallore. Lunch: A giant sausage with fries and a very strong curry ketchup. There was also curry in the sausage. Powerful stuff.
Friday: Christmas lunch with old friends from 1 to 9 p.m. The first of its kind this year. And my goodness for a Christmas table. There was everything you could imagine, and a little more and beer and "snaps". Of course we finished with rice pudding with almonds, "rice-a la mande". What a calorie-bomb all in all.
Today Saturday: Golden wedding with old friends in the restaurant in Studstrup Marina. And what a menu, we were met with. Incredibly delicious dinner with exquisite red wine. And there was enough of everything. I enjoyed every second and ate in each of them.

Read on tomorrow. There is more gastronomy in store.

This week till now.

Today Friday: Christmas lunch with old friends from 1 to 9 p.m. The first of its kind this year. And my goodness for a Christmas table. There was everything you could imagine, and a little more and beer and "snaps". Of course we finished with rice pudding with almonds, "rice-a la mande". What a calorie-bomb all in all.
It has until now been a good week as far as food is concerned.
But wait until tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. There will be more.

This week till now.
Monday: Matron made me a really delicious dinner - something with cabbage, vegetables, potatoes and very tasty meat balls
Tuesday: Lunch with good friends at Mols: Soup, tartlets, apple pie, white wine, beer and very tasty liquorice as an extra dessert
Wednesday: Birthday brunch at sister in law in Silkeborg. All sorts of cold cuts, cheese, pie, bread, rolls etc. with tea and coke - and very tasty and delicious Danish pastry.
Today: Tour deep into the EU. Shopping in style. Supermarkets gallore. Lunch: A giant sausage with fries and a very strong curry ketchup. There was also curry in the sausage. Powerful stuff.
But I ate up - and half of Matron's. She thought it was too hot for her delicate stomach.
It did bite on my tongue.
Now I wonder what food tomorrow might bring.

This week till now.
Monday: Matron made me a really delicious dinner - something with cabbage, vegetables, potatoes and very tasty meat balls
Tuesday: Lunch with good friends at Mols: Soup, tartlets, apple pie, white wine, beer and very tasty liquorice as an extra dessert
Awfully cozy.
Wednesday: Birthday brunch at sister in law in Silkeborg. All sorts of cold cuts, cheese, pie, bread, rolls etc. with tea and coke - and very tasty and delicious Danish pastry.
Bakers in Silkeborg certainly know how a Danish should be done.
Awfully cozy.
At the same time I taught brother in law about facebook which he is now (hopefully) a committed member of
What might this week not end with - foodwise?

Some sweet and old friends in the far Mols today invited on soup, the good old fashioned and homemade kind. And I must tell you. It tasted well.
I have never previously observed that soup can make a you a little intoxicated, but I discovered so today which meant that Matron had to drive home.
So beware. Next time you invited for soup, remember to book a taxi for your trip home if you haven't got your own Matron.
With the good soup followed an unusually tasty white wine and some good beer of the dark kind, and enough of either.
And finally a perfect apple pie for dessert.
It's been a good day.

Pure nostalgia.
Photo from 1953.
From the left myself, my dad, and my friend Flemming.
Picture was taken on a yearly traing course (one week) at a sports high school in Vejle. The idea was to educate coaches (e.g. my dad), and we youngsters were there as pupils on whom the coming coaches could "practise".
As a matter of fact I learned a lot on these courses, and I think I really got the idea of what it is to play cricket.
It's such a good game.
Pity I'm too old for it now.

Can't help it. Must bring this picture.
Today I was once again lucky enough to spend time with youngest grandchild, Frederik, and his family.
And that I don't mind and especially not since we all went out for a very nice coffee/tea with a multitude of cakes. You could eat as many you like. The sky was the limit.
This was all a Christmas present from second youngest grandchild, Cecilie.
As you can see Frederik is a kind boy with a lot of smiles and I have no doubt whatsoever that I am one of his favourites. Fortunately he has a lot.

Yesterday I received a rather strange phone call. A man introduced himself and said he was calling from a company that sells burglar alarms.
I do not like salespeople on the phone so I was initially skeptical.
The good man could tell that my wife (better known as Matron) the day before yesterday had been in Randers Shopping Centre and to him had expressed interest in their facilities. I denied that. She had not been in Randers, she had been at work in Aarhus.
He did not understand this. He told me our address, how many there were in the household, our full names, and he even knew that we have 2 dogs.
Now I was really suspicious and said I was uncomfortable that he had this information, and where he had it from. He maintained he had it from my wife.
I hung up.
Late last night when I told my sweet wife about the incident she said, "That's your eldest son who called. He's pulling your leg."
Of course, I thought. Why hadn't I realized that earlier? He has done it countless times, calling and pretending he was somebody else - admittedly some years ago.
Presented with the accusations today he stubbornly denied and threatened that such unfair indictment could only be compensated for by him getting some "really good ideas".
So to all of you out there, "Keep an eye on him, what letters you get and, not least what phone calls you receive. He can be quite dangerous".

There is something about this picture that I don't like.
The poor man is troubled by a "six-pack", and then on top of it he has to drag his wife along.
But there is also something romantic about it. See how nicely they after all are holding hands.
This situation would never occur to Matron and I even though we like to hold hands.
We would never dream of buying a "six-pack".

For practical reasons, I have to write my diary a little early today.
So there is not a lot to tell about - and yet.
I got up. I ate some breakfast. I went to the bathroom. I took a tough ride on my fitness bike (half an hour). I had a shower. I went for a walk with the dogs (half an hour). I wrote on my book. I wrote a birthday greeting to eldest son on facebook. I called him and repeated my congratulations. I emptied the dishwasher. I wrote my diary.
So don't say that nothing is happening here in Studstrup.

I'm about to get myself a new reputation. Matron is considering calling me "Chef you cuisin" or just "Chef".
After a cold, but good and long walk today, one hour, I enjoyed coming home and having a portion of my self-made soup.
The recipe is a bit complicated, but the short version reads as follows:
At a supermarket one or more packages of' Cup a 'Soup' are purchased. There are several sorts. Personally I prefer "Italian Minestrone" or "Tomato". In each package are 3 bags of powder.
350 mL. water is boiled thoroughly, and in this now very hot water 2 bags of the powder are poured, for example, one of each of the two sorts.

Then stir, and after a short extraction time the tasty and warm soup is ready.
Subsequently you can add some croutons to the soup, for example with garlic.
For this course a glass of chilled Pepsi Max can be successfully consumed. Vintage 2013 is fine.
Lunch is saved.
Bon appetite.

I have a big wish, a very big wish, and it is a material one.
I want a pruning saw. Not just a small compass saw. No, an electric saw on a long telescopic pole. See photo. It can be up to 4 meters long.
The reason for my big and so far unfulfilled wish is that we have a plum tree. Each year it dutifully supplies us with manya lot of sweet plums. Now, plum trees unfortunately are in the bad habit of growing thin branches vertically up into the air. And unless you want an oversized plum tree you must do something about it. So - also every year - at the risk of my life I have to cut them off with various small garden scissors. That means up the ladder which is resting most precariously on the tree, and then cut-cut-cut. It is dangerous for a man of my age, and that kind of excesses should not be part of my life. Therefore my big wish. I hope it will be fullfilled very soon.

With a saw like that I can stand safely on the grass cutting all the branches I want without the risk of falling down. Already the plum tree is standing out there just waiting for me to come and do my duty. Bonsai!

I have told Matron about my wish, and she did not sound uninterested. Wonder if she will also pay.

In the foreground two barracks for homeless people. In the middle the main building and in the backgroung Silkeborg Hospital.

It made me a little happy as I today twice found my hopefully forthcoming book on my computer and started writing.
Today's theme was 'children's clothing and footwear' in the house for homeless people where we lived, and about Christmas- and New Year's Eve.
It's a long time since I've written but today the desire was there, and I was pleased with the outcome of today's work. If I can maintain my desire to write it could be that I could be finished some time in the spring.
The book is in its entirety on my time in that house, Frydensbjerggaard 1943 to 1954. See photo, taken in 1949, when I was 9 years old.
There is much to tell about that time, but as a good friend once wrote to me (something like this): "If you tell EVERYTHING, you will get but few readers. It will be boring." I agree and try to tell only what is important..

I happened to "stumble" over this picture today and couldn't help showing it.
It was taken in 1958 at a pre season cricket meeting in our very small pavillion. There were not many players present that day but nevertheless we had a very good season that among others brought an English touring side to Silkeborg, "The Epsom Old Grammarians", a team that I in the years to come was fortunate enough to play for in England. Those were the golden days. I shall never forget them.
At the same time (1958) Else and I made friends with English friends that we have seen regularly ever since.

My goodness. That was cold. Despite the cold weather forecast I dared out today for a short walk, just 20 minutes.
And rarely have I felt a cold so sharp. The temperature was not immensely low, minus 3-5 degrees, but the wind bit in ears and cheeks and either quickly changed into a pink color. I'm glad that I did not meet anyone I know. They would have laughed at it and thought that I had been drinking which I hadn't, at least not at that time.
I have heard that the chill-factor made outside temperatures being equal to minus 20 degrees. I felt it even colder.
Having returned home to the warm coziness of my moulded sofa, I have recovered and will very soon offer myself a glass of good red wine, and in a little while Matron's very good tenderloin will be waiting.
And then - as far as I am concerned - it can be minus 50 degrees outside. Well, but then perhaps 30.

Danmark's Radio TV for the time being show a lot of James Bond movies - for the umpteenth time. Matron loves to watch them and says that I do too.
In any case, I see part of some of them and remember back to a time when I a little enviously admired the good Bond's abilities to cope with impossible situations. Several times I said to myself, "This time he won't make it". But I was wrong every time.
Even more I admired his way of presenting himself, especially when he met a beautiful woman. He always said, "The name's Bond, James Bond". And women fainted in his arms.
I have tried the same trick. But for some reason "The name is Rasmussen, Gunnar Rasmussen" doesn't seem to have any effect whatsoever.
Wonder why.

I've had a good experience today, one that supports my belief in human helpfulness and friendliness.
At yesterday's walk when I was invited into a pumping station close by, I found out when I got home that I had lost both my gloves on the way. After the visit I had stuffed them into a coat pocket along with camera and dog leashes. Gloves on top. And then they obviously fell out.
Now, they are certainly not the world's most expensive gloves, but I've had them for many years, and they are good when riding my bike during the cold months, so I would like to find them. Therefore I took yesterday's walk in the opposite direction. And indeed. Only 2-300 meters apart I found them both, nicely fastened to a bush and a fence. It was very kind of whoever it was. But it must be local people since it was at a place where you would only come if you are familiar with the area.
But that's how we Studstrup citizens are - sheer goodness.

It was fortunate. After hundreds of times having walked past a white, windowless building in front of our local power station its content was eventually revealed to me. It proved to be a pumping station for district heating.
I was lucky enough to meet a few technicians in front of the building. I asked if there were some kind of union meeting since I never before had met so many people there. In fact I have never met anybody. They denied, and after a bit of small talk one of them asked if I would like to see what was inside. I certainly did and got a tour through the whole building including its deep cellar with explanations of all the technical stuff. Very interesting.
2 x 2 great big pipes with a diameter of 1 meter bring the district heating water forth and back to the whole of Aarhus and and a couple of other towns, 300,000 households, 9 million liters per hour heated up to 120 degrees and with return water of approx. 38 degrees. The water is pumped out with a pressure of 20 atmospheres.
Very instructive. You learn a lot from walking.

I took Matron to work today - a protracted affair. Queue, queue, and queue in at Grenaavej, the big mainroad into Aarhus. We spent 1 hour on travelling 4 kilometers.
Cause: A snow plow had broken down almost in Aarhus and blocked one lane. We had heard it on local radio an hour earlier, but took it for granted that the lorry would be gone when we would arrive an hour later. But no. They were still working to get it going.
The whole journey took 1 hour and 7 minutes, of which -as I told - one hour was driving in queue.
After having delivered my precious passenger (She is the bread winner) I drove home. It took me 17 minutes. There was no queue in my lane, but even more in the opposite one. The snow plow was still blocking the traffic.
There is only one good thing about driving in a queue. You can just lean back. There are no decisions to be made. Nothing you can do about it. Relax and spend time on talking or thinking positive thoughts. It helps.

I have become a friend of a brand new facebook page, "AFC Wimbledon Support Denmark".
We are up to now an exclusive group of 16 friends but we hope the idea will spread.
So join in. Maybe we don't all know a lot about football or about AFC Wimbledon at all. But we are kind people who like to talk about football - and joke about it as well.
As we say in Denmark, "Få så den finger ud og tilmeld dig".

I took Matron to one of our 5 local supermarkets today. It turned out to be a harrowing experience for her.
We "strolled" around in the shop, and took a little of everything with us. Arriving at the meat counter I saw at a distance the sweet lady in dispute with the lady behind it. I approached to hear what was going on. I noticed Matron's reproachful glance at the assistant and heard her with a firm voice saying, "The price tag on this sausage must be wrong. Is it really true that it costs 106 kroners?" And she lifted a small piece of sausage up, less than 10 centimeters long, approx. as shown in the picture.
The assistant nodded slightly disconcerted. That was the price.
"I can buy exactly the same for 20 kroners elsewhere", my sweet wife continued. "It's the price,"the lady said.
"All that sausage will never be sold", Matron said pointing at the big number of them in the counter.
I had to agrre with her. It was a horrendous price for a rolled meat sausage of that small size.
Deeply shaken, the good lady walked on to the cashline. I followed thinking that I would not like to be in the same car as a lady so excited, so I walked home.

Eventually. Here it is, the new Lamborghini is out. It was launched very recently.
The first one has left the assembly line at the Lamborghini Factory at Sant'Agata in Italy.
It costs 1.5 million. euros. It is just over 11 million DKK - without taxes. So the price in Denmark will be more than double.
However, this should not deter me from wanting one of them. It is a "score-car" that any man would like having in his garage. I just have to save up a bit during the next few months before I buy it.
And yet. No, I do not want it. I find it hard to see it towing a caravan.

I was up early today, 7.30. I sometimes do that to say goodbye to Matron on her way to her job. She likes her servants to stand at the door bowing when she leaves the house.
In this my early resurrection I could also receive my orders of the day orally instead of the many notes the good lady likes to leave on the kitchen table.
And there were only 3 points. 1) Take the waste bag out , 2) change a light bulb in a lamp, and 3) vacuum clean the house.
I had no comments to 1) and 2), but was strongly opposed to 3).
I hoovered as late as yesterday, and I found it purely wasteful of both my strength and electrical energy that it had to do be done already again.
In addition, I complained of back-, knee-, and foot pain, which would make the tour with the confounded machine a tour of pain.
It took me 25 minutes to vacuum clean, but as a silent protest I didn't clean the utility roomy. That will teach her.

'Solvitur ambulando', he said. Whoever said?
I would not ask the question if I did not know the answer. Diogenes did, the Greek philosopher who is known to have lived in a barrel.
What does it mean?
I would not ask the question if I did not know the answer. It means, "It must be walked away." Thus, it might just as well have been Matron who said it. I have to listen to it every time I complain of a pain here or there. "It must be walked away."
But why now this Diogenes quote?
I would not ask the quiestion if I did not know the answer. Last night I started on a book by a famous Danish reporter Ulla Terkelsen "We can sleep on the airplane", causing that I didn't fall asleep untill well after midnight. But never mind, then I could just get up somewhat earlier.
"Solvitur ambulando" is her favourite proverb.
Anyway the book caught me right from the start - also because the sweet, enormously talented and very cosmopolite (like Diogenes) reporter was born and grew up in the center of Aarhus.
She is a fascinating lady, my favorite reporter, and I am looking forward to reading the rest of the book.

My goodness!
I just read that currently in Australia is a heat wave so hot that there is a possibility of a temperature record.
The current one is 53 years old - measured in January 1960 and is 50.7 degrees.
But now meteorologists predict that this may be exceeded soon.
In addition to all the problems with so high temperatures they have given meteorologists practical problems. Their temperature map is color-wise arranged to mark temperatures up to 50 degrees. They have had to create a colour that can display temperatures up to as many as 54 degrees. The color is a glowing deep purple - as seen on the map.
Regardless the color chart, I am deeply grateful not to be in Australia at the moment. I'm not crazy about temperatures above 22 degrees. I send my warmest greetings to Australia's population and wildlife. Even the fish must sweat.

I have been babysittting today. Young Frederik's mum and dad had to go to work.
And who's better for a job like that than I am?
Well, there might be a few. But one of them was at work, too.
Nevertheless Frederik and I have played, sung, and laughed, and laughed, sung, and played.
Also a long walk with the pram was nice. To the town center and back. One hour in all.
I have changed his diaper a couple of times with both "this and that". Haven't done it for 38 years or so. But there are just some things you seem never to forget how to do.
He's a smiling little boy. A well spent day. It has been great.

Yesterday a facebook friend from Silkeborg wrote to me in response to my heart-rending account on colds. He told of his own experience of going to the doctor with this disorder.
He told of his old (now deceased) doctor who once said, "If you go home and lie down with your cold, it will take 3 weeks for you to get over it. However, if you act like you normally do, you will have to accept that it will take 21 days".
(A deceased doctor, by the way, is not good PR for his own trade, but I wonder if he wasn't right this time.)
Unfortunately there is no vaccine against rhinopharyngitis, as a cold is called in Latin. It's a virus that attacks your nose. I'm glad I do not have to remember that Latin word. A "cold" is a lot easier.
A certain Danish writer, Storm P., would agree. He once wrote,
"This sort of mosquito is called "Diptera orthorropha" - a rather long name considering that an elephant is simply called "Elephas"!"
PS: I can with extreme jubilation tell that my rhinopharyngitis is decreasing. That's why I this morning went for a walk for an hour and emptied the dishwasher.

I have to follow up on yesterday's last sentence, "I've caught an awful cold". For three days I have sneezed and coughed. It was and is unpleasant and has kept me from any physical activity at all. Fortunately I can also tell, "I am being spoiled". Matron has been so good to me and has brought me whatever I wanted. For the first time in 23 years I had breakfast in bed. And in a few minutes, I shall eat a delicious cake which she bought this morning.
Nevertheless somebody might recommend me to see my doctor. But?????
My dad did it once. He otherwise did not see his doctor a lot of times. But one year in January he happened to catch a cold of huge dimensions. Reluctantly he went to his doctor and complained of his woes to which the doctor said,
"Mr. Rasmussen, now go home and have a hot bath. It should be so hot that you feel you are burning, and it must be for at least a quarter of an hour. Next you go and stand on your balcony wearing only underpants - also for 15 minutes".
Astonished my father exclaimed, "Then I shall catch pneumonia."
"Exactly," said the doctor, "that can I cure, but a cold, I can't."
That's why I am not going to see my doctor with my cold.

Today on the Internet I purchased 8 toothbrushes for our electric brush. I paid DKK 88 for them, approx. a quarter of what I would have paid in an ordinary shop
Such offers we under-resourced people cannot just swim past. We must save where we can.
I thought of this when later in the day I read a list of the world's richest persons who hardly buy toothbrushes online.
For me it was surprising to learn that the world's wealthiest is Mexican, Carlos Slim, 72 years old, and head of "America Movil". His fortune is DKK 441 billion and increased by 88.8 billion in 2012.
What do you think?
I would have been happy with just having had half of his wealth increase in 2012.
If I suffered just a little bit of the ugly disease of envy I would right now have been very bad.
I am. I've caught an awful cold.

I was in the center of Aarhus today, specifically in the department store Salling.
Of course it was figuratively at gunpoint and more literally with threats of all kinds of mishaps if I did not attend.
Still, I was happy with my participation. It gave me a new appreciation of the word SALE.
Crisis times have apparently made it necessary to offer extra cheap clothing in the shape of black plastic bags with a couple of holes for the arms. It must be cold this time of year. See photo. Is it perhaps a new trend?

I cautiously asked for the price, but the sweet lady didn't know, despite the fact that there were 25-30 mannequins with similar dressings. They must be affordable.
However, I see one problem. Black trash bags are not allowed at dumps.

I have been alone most of the day since Matron had to go to work.
Even if I miss her being alone is not the worst thing in the world. Having finished her list of jobs to be done I had an hour for myself which I, without hesitation, spent on my exercise bike. And a log ride it was, a bit over 50 minutes for full steam. That is my record. Tough but when finished and after a good long shower I felt like a million.
Best of all was, though, that during my ride I could watch TV. Among other things I watched "Bomber Boys", a documentary about, among others, the old bomber, "The Lancaster". very interesting.
In it brothers Colin and Ewan McGregor follow up their documentary "The Battle of Britain" with a film exploring Bomber Command, a rarely-told story from the Second World War.
I can recommend it if you happen to get the opportunity of watching it.

"Statistics is a scientific method which efficiently uses numerical data". Extract from Wikipedia.

New Year is time for annual statements.
I am not only thinking of taxes and annual statements from my bank and mortgage company. They are so dead boring.
No, I am thinking of something much more exciting and interesting, something that really can excite our little souls - heating, water and electricity consumption.
For that very reason I have for 8 years developed an enormous spreadsheet showing each month and year. This can clearly tell me about all forms of domestic energy, differences from last year and last month etc. So on the last day of a month I can be seen walking around in our house with my little notebook reading the three meters. After that all figures are put into the computer in the above mentioned spreadsheet.
No one can ask me a question about our energy consumption that I could not answer.
I am mad about statistics. And I have constructed several others for use in my daily life that I almost dare not reveal for fear of being suspected of some mental disorder which I do not know the name of.

Once again, we all must get used to a new year. It happens too often, I think.
No longer ago than yesterday, we were in 2012
Well, never mind. I see 2013 as an opportunity for a fresh start. Now all bad habits must be abandoned. I am especially thinking of .......?????? Well, I haven't got any, I think.
And all good habits must be encouraged. I am especially thinking of .........?????? Well, I haven't got any of those either.
What can I use the new year, the new chance, for then?
Let me tell you. I shall live a life with lots of laughs in rewarding, amusing, and enjoyable social relations with family and friends.
I do no longer want to spend time on restrictions in life - such as dieting.
From tomorrow I shall be eating, drinking, singing, talking, walking, cycling, watching cycling on TV, watching cricket, being something for children, in-laws and especially grandchildren, going retrieving, going caravaning, going to the cinema and theater, spoiling Matron and enjoying myself for as long as I possibly can. That's the rest of my life.

I would like to wish you all a Happy New Year.
Thank you for 2012 and for your interest in my website. For the very same reason I intend to go on with it.
I hope you will have a good New Year's Eve and a good year 2013.
I am looking forward to both.
I hope you do, too.

Caution about tonight: Never go back to fireworks that didn't go off, do not eat and, especially, do not drink anything that I would not have eaten or drunk.
When you reach that point, you've had more than enough.
HAPPY NEW YEAR.

Announcement to those who soon will have their golden wedding and to those for whom there are still some years to go.
"It is recommendable" - even if you have to get up early.
We had a very good day yesterday, a meeting with friends and family, warm and nice. First brunch with many guests and in the evening dinner with closest family, made by them. They are good cooks.

The day after is not to be forgotten. We slept in. Even Matron participated quite unusually in this wonderful activity. She got up at 12.30 while I was up somewhat earlier. I got out at the stroke of 12 and immediately began hoovering .
The rest of the day was spent with feet up and TV turned on. A lot of the time it might just as well have been turned off. We both dozed off.
A good day followed by a relaxing one.

We can hardly hide it anymore.
Today Matron and I are celebrating our first golden wedding, 50-year wedding anniversary. Quite a bit-
Therefore we were up early (6 a.m.) to prepare for the many guests that we did not know were coming. But they did, 41 of them - and thank God for that. Otherwise we would have been stuck with 80 rolls and butter, cheese, 4 kinds of cold meat, homemade pastries, black bread, assorted beverages and much more. Enough to feed a medium-sized town for a couiple of days.
The nice guests sang for us, our favorite song, out there at the front door. Before that oldest son played a very appropriate signal on his hunting horns, the "Lunch Signal", in honor of the occasion renamed the "Brunch Signal".
Our guests said goodbye to us about noon, and now we are sitting quietly looking forward to tonight, when we are going to have dinner with our nearest family.
It has been a lovely day, and it will end just as lovely as it started, I'm sure.

Although there are still 4 days left of 2012 I am ready to conclude on my "cycling year". I'm not going out more until 2013.
2012 has been miserable.
Bad weather and a bit og ill health has kept me away from longer rides and a bigger number of them. I am enormously annoyed. I must try to do better in 2013.
Some figures from 2012:
I did a paltry 20 rides. (How poor can it be?)
I have ridden 549 km. (I grieve).
There are entire 4 months when I did not ride at all (I grieve even more).

Best month was March, 148 km.
My goal for the year was 2.750 km., So I still need another 2.201 km. I won't make it.
So once again I shall drop out of the Tour de France next summer.

On the same day they are going twice over the Alp dHuez. They must do without me.

This morning Matron and I were lucky enough to be asked to babysit for youngest grandchild, Frederik. That's a privilege that should be offered to all grandparents, and they should never turn it down.
We really enjoyed looking after the clever little boy and had long and intellectual conversations in the shape of, "Da-da-da-da-da-da". After that Frederik would say, "Da-da-da-da-da-da". A debate on the highest of levels.
He's a very good, little boy, always content and smiling.
Love him.

That was the end of that hunting season. The last hunt was today. There are now 9 months till the next one. But I'm already looking forward to it. So do my dogs.
It was very nice today to have the opportunity of getting rid of a few "Christmas calories" and that on a beautiful and clear day together with good and pleasant people.
And I walked 11,258 steps. Not bad.
On the way home in the car it started raining. Lucky. It was but a reaffirmation of the tremendous luck we have had on this year's hunts - weatherwise. Only rain once (24/10), and it was a mere 20-minute drizzle. We did not even get wet.
Now the dogs are in for a well-deserved 9 months' break. They need it, and so do I.
As a conclusion of a very good day Matron has promised me that for my dinner I am going to have leftovers from yesterday's family Christmas party.
Yes, it surely is a very merry Christmas.

YES, YES, and YES.
Eventually I succeeded. I promised myself yesterday to go hard for the almond gift (the winner is the one who is lucky enough to find an almond in the rice puddig). I did go hard. And what's better - I won. I found the almond.
For the first time in 63 years I could stretch my arms up in jubilation with the gift over my head. It was a great moment. Only those who have previously won an almond gift know what milestone it is.
You feel that this for certain will be saved in your mind till your last day.
It's being a great Christmas. And this afternoon our family will all come for a big Christmas lunch with plenty of food and drink. And tomorrow I shall go retrieving.
Isn't life just wonderful? I think so.

Finally it is Christmas Eve.
For the 73rd time I can say that.
It's still a little exciting every time, although it was much more "stomach-tickling" 60-70 years ago.
But I am looking forward over the next 2 days to being with all our children, in-laws, and grandchildren.
That joy never grows smaller, they are fantastic all of them - and we are going to have something really good to eat - and on Boxing Day I am going on a shoot.
It can only be an exciting Christmas.
May I wish you all a Merry Christmas with lots of great gifts.
Merry Christmas to all.

In Denmark we call them 'klejner' Hope that crullers is the right word.

The first real snowstorm was kind enough to pay us a visit today. It has caused great difficulties for those who absolutely had to go out. Cars, buses, trains, bicycles and scooters have been brought to almost a standstill.
I have too. I did not set a foot outside.
In the afternoon I informed Matron that I had an inescapable wish for crullers (hope it's the right word. See picture) and therefore would take the car to the nearest bakery in Løgten (4 k's from here) in order from this operator to purchase an appropriate number of them. Of course I really did not want to dare out and drive in the abominable weather, but it was part of my plan to hint the idea.
I was promptly met with a blank refusal to my desire about going out for crullers. I was told to stay at home. She would much rather bake a cinnamon cake for me. That was just what I had wanted from the outset but never dared to ask for.
I have now eaten a huge piece of it. It is commendable.
Sometimes she's just a bit easy.

This year's penultimate hunt was today - and a good one it was.
However, I have to add that this afternoon's weather was the coldest I have experienced for a long time. The wind was a bit of a nuisance. Not that it was strong. But my goodness it was cold. Even my warmest hunting clothes had a hard time keeping the contents warm. But we're tough, we old chaps. Even the most terrible cold cannot keep us home. Admitted though, it was wonderful to come home in a pleasant temperature, have a hot shower and doze in front of the TV.
But dear oh dear, I've had a great day.

Now came the day - no, no, not the day of the end of the world - but the day when the old man had built in his hearing aid. It is the size of a tennis ball, fill out the inner ear completely. But Matron has been sweet enough to say that you can hardly see it. It must be correct, I can not either.
But I can hear - almost too well.
As my old English friend told me when he got his hearing aid, "On the way home I distinctly heard the driver of the car that drove behind us farting". I heard the same.
I can now hear what my sweet wife tells me when we are in the car, and it is I who do the steering. It is the right ear, that has had an amplifier inserted, a 44 decibels apparatus. That is quite a bit. And it can go up to 135 db. Hope I shall never need that. Must be awful.
Now all noise comes as a grenade blast, especially if it is pieces of porcelain rattling against each other or a teaspoon hitting a glass a cup. From now I shall limit my number of speeches. The sound of metal against glass makes me jump.
Well, never mind. It will not be a great loss to the world.
I am now looking extra forward to Christmas. I can hear the paper crunch when I unpack my gifts.

Now the world seems to have come to and end. I am not referring to the Mayan prediction about the end of the world tomorrow. I shall come back to that at the end of today's diary.
No, I would just like to tell you about a letter I received yesterday from my insurance company. It said,
"We are pleased to inform you that the LB-insurance will put the price of your car insurance down.
In recent years, our members were very carefull in their cars and we had far fewer damage claims.
This will now also benefit you. The price will be reduced from 2013".
I do not recall having received such a letter ever before. Imagine, a price reduction at a time when everything else is about price increases.
Initially I thought it was a mistake or maybe a belief in the Maya prediction about end of the world tomorrow, giving the insurance company an opportunity of seeing their customers having a happy and smiling departure to the hereafter. However, it seems that the company is serious. Hiip hip, hurrah.
PS: Incidentally the earth will not go under tomorrow. I am going on a shoot on Saturday.

Walking relaxed on today's walk just around noon, my mobile rang. It was Matron. She was at work at the university. She often calls because she simply misses me so awfully
BUT. That was not the reason this time.
The following many and long minutes I had to listen to a longer report. Our car stood at the university, totally drained of power (the sweet lady had forgotten to turn off the light). And how could she get home when she would be off at 3.30 pm.?
I suggested her to call our savings company. That did not please the good lady. When might they turn up? Maybe she wouldn't be home till about 6 pm.? Moreover, she did not know how to open the hood - and other objections.
Being under such pressure, I had to rush home, call a taxi, setting off towards the university and on the way contacting our savings company. There was plenty to do.
The timing was perfect. Exactly when I arrived at the "dead" car my help arrived. An extremely friendly and helpful man had the car started in less than half a minute and I could drive back home.
At 3.30 pm. I had to pick up Matron again.
So do not say that pensioners have dull days.

How cold-blooded can a robber be?
I read today about two masked men, pistols in hand who last night entered an Aldi supermarket near Copenhagen. First they made sure to get all possible witnesses out of the way by forcing all customers out of the store before at gunpoint threatening the cashier to hand over all the money.
I can see it for me what happened. Guns in hand using them to point towards the exit, the criminals shooed all customers out.
(Incidentally I wonder if they actually paid at the cash or just walked through with their shopping goods?)
The robbers then quickly told the appalling cashier to hand over all the money from the till, which she of course did.
The robbers disappeared quickly with a substantial sum. All in all it went very quickly.
Perhaps it was wise of the robbers not to go into a "Fakta" supermarket. They use the following slogan,
"It'll take only 5 minutes in Fakta but we would really like you to stay a little longer."
In that case the police might have had plenty of opportunity to arrive in good time.
The robbers are still at large, perhaps having gained so much confidence that the next time they will force everybody out of the enourmos BILKA supermarket before they rob the money.

Quote from yesterday's diary: "I have no plans of walking anywhere tomorrow. I feel like just sitting at home in front of the TV drinking Pepsi Max and eating crisps - once I've got out of bed.".
Such a prediction, can't just be ignored.
So I got up late, around 11 - and watched TV.
On the edible I did not eat crisps. I have heard and read a lot about how unhealthy and fattening crisps are. Therefore I chose marzipan and Christmas cookies. I have not heard or read anything unfavorable about those - as far as I remember.
My drink was what I had promised myself, Diet Pepsi.
So all in all, I have kept 3 out of 4 promises to myself. Not bad.
It's been a good day.

I set a new record on today's shoot. I walked 11,934 steps. The standing record was 11,564 steps and was from the 24th November.
Inexplicably today's power performance was not so strenuous as on 24th Nov. I'm probably getting in form - and now is the hunting season will soon be over. Only 2 hunts remain.
Maybe it gave me strength that I sometimes could stand quietly enjoying the view. Just look at the picture.
I have no plans of walking anywhere tomorrow. I feel like just sitting at home in front of the TV drinking Pepsi Max and eating crisps - once I've got out of bed.

Cold, wet, and windy outside. Boring weather in general. I've only been out in it in for the time it took to get in and out of the car during this morning's shopping. And that was more than enough.
Now it's a lot better.
Matron and I are enjoying a football game between Mancester United and Sunderland - with a dish of warm buns in front of us.
There is something secure about watching English football on a dark Saturday afternoon like today. It recalls the "old days" when English football on Saturday afternoons was new and was a "must".
Not only are we sitting in our warm and comfortable sitting room, listening to the howling wind, we also are watching football on a high level. Right now 39 minutes are played with Man. United in the lead, 2-0, after brilliant play with good goals. Football and cosiness at its best.
Very nice. And tomorrow I shall be retrieving on a shoot. Also very nice, no matter the weather.

Matron feels that it is Friday all the time. As late as this morning she said it again. And actually it is Friday today. She just has the feeling that days rush along too quickly.
I have to agree with her. I often agree with her for tactical reasons. But not this time.
Time just flies, The older you get the faster it goes.
It's almost 2 ½ years since I turned 70
It's almost 8 years since I retired.
It's almost 9 years since I got my trusty dog, Sydney.
It is almost 13 years since I turned 60.
I remember it all clearly - as we always say - as were it yesterday.
I wonder how long it will take until I shall say, "Oh dear. Is it really so long ago I wrote this? I thought it was only yesterday."

It's Christmas party time. Every year I am looking forward to them, and often they are of course a nice continuation from last year. It's great to come back year after year at the same places and with the same people. I love it.
Today, however, I read about a successful Christmas party after which all the guests unanimously stated that they did not want to get an invitation next year.
The reason was not that food was scarce or bad, on the contrary. Everything was perfect. Drinks were also in abundance and a great selection of them. The atmosphere was excellent, everyone enjoyed themselves and had a good day. And it was all free.
What made these people say that they did not want an invitation next year?
The answer is simple. The party was arranged and paid for by an unemployment office, and only unemployed people were invited.
They would after all rather have a job than a Christmas party.
Faced with such an option I - in my old age - might be in doubt.

It is bitterly cold outside, so it needed a bit of willpower to overcome my reluctance to go out for my almost daily walk. But I overcame and I should not regret.
Despite the cold it was a lovely walk in the snow, and I enjoyed "inhaling" the cool and fresh air. I got quite happy, not least when through the bare trees I saw a glowing red sun going down.
Shortly afterr dusk came and it got even colder.
What is as wonderful as coming home to a warm sitting room after a cold walk, sitting down on the sofa eating and drinking something you like?
Not much is better. Isn't life just wonderful?

Today the sun was up at 8.42 a.m. and went down at. 3.42 p.m. where we live (haven't seen it, though), giving us a day length length of exactly 7 hours. It's not much considering the day length has declined by 10 hours and 41 minutes.
How wonderful it will be when day length once again is 17 hours and 41 minutes. That will be about the time when Matron and I set off for our summer holiday in our very nice caravan, a bit hard to imagine when you have a look at it in our front yard today, covered in snow and with frozen windows.
I can hardly wait for more civilized temperatures to come.

I took Matron to work this morning. The heavy snow and the bitter cold made her worried about driving. I was at least as uncertain as she since I was chased out of bed at. 6.45 a.m.
The tour went along our inner ringroad with its thousands of vehicles in long queues.
At the busiest road cross of them all, just at the university, a small car had broken down blocking the right-turn lane just in front of the traffic lights.
10 meters behind this car the driver stood waving cars aside to prevent total chaos.
It was a thoughtful deed which was not less commendable in that the young lady was standing in a pair of thin knickers with bare shins and wearing a blouse that revealed her bare belly.
She must have been freezing.
For her sake I hoped that help was not far away.

My dislike to snow - and not least blizzards - did not become any better by waking up this morning to a nasty and thick layer of it.
So much the greater was my annoyance since today we were to have gone to Auntie Henny's 90-year birthday in Silkeborg with a guaranteed good lunch, singing and entertainment, and the opportunity of skating in the Silkeborg Ice Rink, the place for the party. Especially I had been looking forward to the skating part of it all.
Of course I was also looking forward to being with my good and nice family with Auntie Henny "at the steering wheel". She surely would not have been the one to leave the party first, on the contrary.
And here I am, forced to passivity, having missed all of the above mentioned - because of a nasty snowfall that could easily have waited until tomorrow or best of all stayed away completely.

Playing the hunting horn is an art form that I have mastered better than I do now. Here in my old days I have to practice quite a lot more to keep up a reasonable standard.
And if you don't know I must tell you that it is a lot more fun to sit watching a freshly painted wall drying up than practicing the hunting horn.
It is very boring.
Consequently I don't and sound will slowly become just as bad as picture.
And yet - and yet.
When I - as seen on the picture from today - am playing with eldest son, Peter, I (we) are playing so wonderfully that you can hear angels singing in the distance. This also happened today despite all angels' busy days so close to Christmas. A few of them must have been permitted by some archangel to come sing just above our heads. I wonder if they were as cold as we were.
Next Sunday I am going to play alone so I really have to pull myself together and practise.
I have said so after every hunt till now, and it never worked.
PS: What you cannot see on the picture is that some 50 people, shooters, retriever people,game keeper, beaters, and others are standing around a square in which the dead game lie in straight lines. They are really the reason why we play. Some kind of respect. Each species has its own signal.

During today's shopping in one of our 5 local supermarkets Matron for a long time stood studying some carrots. I was waiting at one of the many coolers a bit away, walked forwards, then backwards, then a little up, and then a little down, all within the same 2-3 square meters, all for quite some time and using my characteristic "supermarket walk" with both arms on my back, the so-called "penguin walk".
I ask, "Is there something about me that seems a little suspect"?
I ask this question because one of the young shop assistants stood watching me from a distance, he then slowly walked towards me, apparently gathered his courage and hesitantly asked, "Uh, is there anything you want to know, anything I can help you with, or are you waiting? "
I nodded and pointed in the direction of the carrots.
He smiled apologetically lifted his shoulders and walked away.
I wonder what he thought about me.

I was at the hearing aid shop today. I got an excellent service from an audiologist who seemed very competent. It is always good to meet talented people. He tested my hearing very thoroughly.
But he is of course also a salesman and would like to provide me with a device that pricewise was 4000 kroners over the public subsidy. But I managed to get stated that if it were to cost me anything, he'd better forget my request. He argued that as a result of the test I delivered, especially on my right ear, an expense was necessary. I repeated, "I am not going to pay a penny."
He conferred briefly with a colleague and came back and told that it would be free. Fortunately he could also tell that I only needed an aid on the right ear. But it had to be a so-called "power aid", a booster that can deliver up to 135 decibels if necessary.
I saw it. The part inside the ear is the size of a tennis ball, and I shall have it mounted at a shipyard on 21st of December

Frederik and granddad singing in a supermarket.

It could be done. I did not know. It was a surprise.
"What is?" I hear you saying.
I shall tell you right away.
I've been 3½ kilometers inside our southern neighbour's territory. In other words, visiting a number of supermarkets. Such an experience is usually one that sends my blood pressure up unhealthily high.
But not today. I have enjoyed every moment of it. That was the surprise.
The reason clearly was that I all day have been "babysitting" for youngest grandson Frederik who also brought his mum and dad.
I brought my well-worn hunting chair, and as soon as I saw an opportunity while everybody else was tearing goods down from shelves I unfolded my chair in front of the stroller, sat down, and then Frederik and I could sing and talk. It caused quite a stir in the busy supermarkets that an elderly gentleman sat on a low chair singing to his grandson who ruthlessly charmed everyone.
I confided to some that Frederik was my youngest son. I speak German, you know. More often than not it led to a dubious smile while others suggested that I surely more likely was "Grossvater" (granddad).
All this saved my day, a wonderful day, and it is fortunate that both Frederik and I share the view that singing and talking is far better than walking around shopping.

I was at the ear specialist today. Those with the better memories will remember that I on the 29th of November also was there but had to leave without any result because my ears were "blocked". I was told to go home and pour olive oil in them to dissolve the ear wax. I did and have done since.
Arriving at the kind man's clinic today I expressed that I had found it a bit "chic" to walk around with olive oil in my ears. He agreed and added that he found it a bit "French".
Fortunately, the oil had helped and I had my ears cleaned properly.
The subsequent hearing test showed - not unexpectedly - that my right ear is more or less "dead", while the left one works fine.
Conclusion: A hearing aid may help me. I shall decide with the dealer who probably has many arguments that it will. But certainly I do not want it to cost anything. That's a fact.
The only snag is that now I am called "Oliver".

Matron and I have a small competition running, Who is best on an exersise bike?
It is the total distance ridden since some time this summer that counts.
Till today, I was in second place.
But when she mid-afternoon asked for permission to visit our neighbor, and I said yes, I decided that now was the time to go for the first place.
Before the sweet lady had even left I had climbed the bike - and now she holds the silver medal position while I enjoy the shine of the gold medal.
But she is breathing down my neck, so I should not be surprised if she's pedaling away tomorrow morning when I climb out of my bed.
Today I rode 41 minutes and 6 seconds, the longest time I have biked till now. Matron has "only" been at it for 32 minutes. as her best performance.
So it's only fair that I'm number one.

I was up a bit late today (as always). Matron had "abandoned" me to visit some toy stores. Christmas Gifts.
I had a quick morning toilette and went out on quite a long walk (1 hour and 35 min. = 7.5 km.) around our village. The weather was good, and many people were out with the same purpose as I. Exersise.
In particular, I admire joggers running along. Most are as skinny as a broomstick, but luckily I also met a few carrying more weight. Those I admire even more. Some of them really struggled to get on, but they no doubt are decided on losing weight. And that is a "struggle". "Run for your life."
Unfortunately I cannot run (the old knee protests), but I can walk, so I "walk for life" - and I do it almost every day if I'm not biking, indoors or outdoors.

Today is "Great Marzipan Day", one of the big days of the year.
It's a family tradition that on a Saturday in December our grandchildren will come and make especially marzipan sweets but also other Christmas goodies, in order to give us a real Christmas.
It's one of my big days. I am mad about marzipan and only too easily am I tempted to eat too much.

The amounts of marzipan in connction with the fact that we also have other sweets brings my calorie intake into the red zone, even in the dark red zone.
It is also a tradition that the youngsters will decorate our Christmas tree. We got it yesterday, and it is probably the most beautiful Christmas tree we have ever had. And so much more is it fortunate that I am not going to decorate it.

Have you seen the weather forecast for the next 6 days? I have. Good heavens. Frost around the clock.
Welcome to the unwelcome winter.
And the weather today? Cold. I can not stand it.
However, it is a pleasant consolation that today is "Andrew's Day", named after the Apostle Andrew, who had the misfortune of being crucified in Greece.
The day has traditionally been used to make predictions about the weather: "Cold on Andrew's Day will bring a mild winter, but a cold spring".
So let's hope it holds. A mild winter is more than welcome, and I must hope that the prediction is incorrect about spring.

I was at the ear specialist today. My otherwise sweet family think I deserve a hearing aid or two.
The good doctor attacked at once and found that both ears were completely closed by earwax. Then he started what I estimate was a powerful compressor and blew air and water (???) in. It sounded like a major volcanic eruption.
Even more eruptions followed plus regular "excavations" with an instrument that felt like being a spade. The compressor and the spade were used for 15-20 minutes after which I was informed that the nice man could not remove it all. There was a "stone" of wax in front of each ear drum. I was asked to go home and soften "the stone". When I asked with what he replied, "Olive oil".
Right now I am lieing here writing with both ears filled with olive oil. Bon appetite.
I'm going to see the ear specialist again on Tuesday. I shall then ask if I can get a grant from my sick insurance, "Denmark" to meet my expenses on olive oil.

It's Auntie Henny's birthday today, 90 years. She is a very agile and quick thinking lady who is very fond of socializing. Therefore, her birthday will be celebrated twice.
Today it was brunch with closest family and friends.
Early December we shall meet again together with many more family members and friends - and the party will continue at a big birthday lunch. If the continuation is as good as the start today, we have much to look forward to.
And then there's the little "extra" on the next party that it will be kept in Silkeborg Sports Center, specifically in the Skating Club's lounge. Some time during the party, all guests will be offered a tour in the skating rink. Skates and helmets are available. Being a former ice hockey player I can't possibly say no to such an offer, in spite of a bad knee and sore back muscles.
I wonder how it will be to get skates on again after so many years.
I am looking very much forward to it. And hopefully no broken limbs. Well, the hospital is only a few hundred yards away.

Christmas has made its entry at our home. But what a trouble.
This morning Matron asked me to get three heavy boxes of Christmas decorations down from the attic.
I am no longer good with steep ladders and certainly not when heavy burdens are to be lifted. My feeble knee did more than once warn me that I was a bit far out. It hurt which I loudly expressed. Nobody was impressed.
Besides it I may have looked rather silly. First I hobbled up the ladder, one careful step at the time with a stiff right knee and then I limped down again, still with a stiff knee but now with a heavy box in my arms, three times in all. Must have been a sight to behold. Luckily only Matron was present.
Now it all has to be hung up - and on the 27th of December I am going to climb up and down the ladder three more times. Someone needs to come and help.

Loosing weight to many is a key problem. It used to be for me as well. But now I've decided that I shall live the rest of my life without restrictions.
I have made that decision several times before, but each time that little iiritating creature called conscience pops up its ugly little head - and my joy is over.
From now on, however, I shall think of it like this:
If I want to loose 10-15 pounds I shall go shopping in England.
(Did you catch that? If not, let me know and I shall explain tomorrow).

I've got bad news. Eighth time is threatening. Starts tomorrow. Just look:
Matron is very excited about following "Heartbeat". Every day one of our channels, "Charlie" is kind enough to give us two episodes of about one hour and have done that for 4 years. And she watches them all - or records them.
There are 300 episodes in all so it takes 150 days to get through the whole series.
"Charlie" has managed to send the series seven times in all, ending tonight.
And believe it or not. Tomorrow it will start all over again, for the eighth time. And if I want to be in our living room between the hours. 5.30 and 7.30 p.m. I have to watchit. God Almighty. For the eighth time. I know every plot in every episode, and all the lines - and I know all characters. They have been part of our family for 4 years.
And now once again. I am considering immigration.

A hunting day is over - without a doubt the hardest I've had in my 38-year career in retrieving. Never before have I been so tired after a day of retrieving, never. It might interest you to know that I walked 11,567 steps corresponding to 7.6 kilometers. As usual in mud and slush.
I found it difficult to produce enough air to blow my bugle at the finish of the shoot. But it sounded reasonably well. I would rate it B+. There is room for improvement.
Fortunately such hardeous days may bring something good with them.
Shortly before the end youngest daughter telephoned me and told that if I on my way home would pass by, she would have a pot of fennel soup for me. I. did so, and have now consumed most of it. She is world champion in fennel soup. The fact that I was tired and exhausted, did not spoil the taste, on the opposite.
So after all the day ended well. I love days with good endings.

Matron and yours truly are out with our caravan as much as we possibly can (and can afford).
Campsites are getting better and better (and more and more expensive).
You nearly always meet nice people who do not mind a small chat and who are helpful. Some more than others.
There are people of all walks of life but I don't know what is happening. You never know what sort of people you meet.

Just look at the picture from our recent trip.

Grief is turned into joy.
You may recall my concerns yesterday about my poor performance on my bugle and my dependence on eldest son's good skills on the hunt on Saturday.
So I was horrified when last night he called and told that unfortunately he cannot come on Saturday. Oh dear. Suddenly I was left to playing alone. Oh grief.
There was only one way out of it. Practise, practise, and practise.
And I did - this morning. I pulled myself together, overcame my boredom about practicing and played for just over 20 minutes. To my enormous surprise, it sounded nice, even very nice.
That encouraged me and I shall now with confidence be looking forward to Saturday's challenges.
Grief is turned into joy. Hope I shall say the same on Saturday when it is over.

I have practiced my bugle today.
Wow, it was no good. It sounded awful, and there was not much air in my poor old lungs either.
And I shall be playing on a hunt on Saturday. I must practice to reach only an acceptable level.
My problem is that very little bores me more than practicing the bugle. So I doubt it that I shall be any better by Saturday.
I must console myself by the fact that eldest son who fortunately is very good will also be playing.

I can "hide myself" a bit behind him.
But it seems unfair that I practice, and I don't get any better.
He never practices, but is very good every time.

What do you know?

I do not guarantee the thruthfulness of the following account. But it sounds plausible.
An American woman tells,
"One day I was in my kitchen cooking corn. I tried to stick a fork into a corn, missed, and my hand ended up in the boiling water.
I howled with pain, but at the same moment a friend of mine came in, a Vietnam veteran.
He asked me if I had a bag of flour. I had, and he held my hand into the flour for 10 minutes.
When I took it out my pain was completely gone, and not even a blister was to be seen.
My friend told me that in Vietnam this guy was on fire and in their panic, they threw a bag of flour all over him to put the fire out...well, it not only put the fire out, but he never even had a blister.

I was told that it is even better with cold flour, so now I always have a bag of flour in the fridge. And remember, no cold water first."
Now I ask: "Who will be the first one to test the theory?"
It does not sound crazy. I will test it out - when the opportunity arises which it hopefully doesn't.

As far as I have heard it, the closest family for some time have insisted that I should get a hearing aid. And pressure grew when they all at the same time found out that from the first of January 2013 the state fundings for hearing aids will be cut down to 50 % of the price (used to be free) as part of our friendly government's new budget.
I do not think my hearing is so bad. I call it selective. And neither do I want to burden the government members with additional problems in terms of additional costs. they have plenty of problems without me. So I've been reluctant.
But now there is no retreat. I had my arm twisted on my back in a double grip and was forced to book an appointment with a "hearing aid vendor" to install on me this probably excellent tool.
Have you ever heard anything like it?

It's my birthday today.
The 18th of November is named after the soldier Hesychius, who would not pay homage to false gods. (Neither will I). He was tied to a stone and thrown into the sea (that I certainly wouldn't like).
On this my birthday I attended a church concert. The church choir in which daughter-in-law and son sing were to sing at a service.
Unsuspecting, I arrived in good time and could hear the choir warming up in the church. I went in, and just at the moment I opened the door and went in the choir started singing "Happy birthday to you".
In a church with an extraordinary acoustics as this particular church the song sounded extra beautiful. I was touched and had to collect myself getting rid of the lump in my throat.
Thank you for the music.

It was a surprise to me when today I discovered that there is in fact a game called Krolf.
It is a cross between croquet and golf.
Equipment is from croquet - the principle with the ball to be holed in the fewest possible shots is from golf.
Now. Take your croquet equipment, throw away the arches and drill some holes in your lawn.
If there are obstacles such as garden beds, flagpoles, trees, bushes, or tiles placed for the occasion, it is just more fun.
I made the great discovery of this probably excellent game just today.
Another surprise was that the game is still played even with tournaments, leagues and all.
Maybe I should give up my rugby career and play krolf instead.

I must be brief today.
Reason:
At a splendid lunch with friends in Æbeltoft I was in bad company with bad friends who by mental and physical tricks literally forced beers and "snaps" into me.
This affected my writing skills negatively - hence the short version.
But I must with Soeren Kierkegaard say that if I drink beers and snaps, I will regret it, and if I do not drink beers and snaps, I will also regret it.

Of course we all know what pain is. And especially I do. My nearest claim that I am quite touchy.
Pain is oficially defined as "an unpleasant sensory (or emotional) experience". Now that is sorted.
I sometimes have sore knees and/or hips.
I rarely take pain killers, but it does happen when I think I deserve it and not want just to let the pain leave my body by itself.
I recently saw pain described as follows, "Pain is your laziness leaving your body", meaning, "It must hurt, before it is well". Or, "Pain is there to remind you of something, to warn you about something."
In other words, "Get your stupid finger out of the flame (or the boiling water) before it hurts like hell!". (It usualle already does.)
With all this, I would like to recommend that everybody respects it when I claim that something hurts and that you do not just say, as I have heard it so often, "You must walk it away".
For God's sake. I walk. and walk, and walk!

I am proud.
Some old friends today moved to Løgten, 5 km. from here. They phoned around noon and asked if I could come and help
1) They could not turn on their TV.
2) They could not get their laptop to go online.
3) They could not get thejr printer to work.
Proud of the confidence in my skills, I said yes to meet the challenges and was picked up as Matron had abducted our car. She has a job to do.
1) was easy. I just switched on the electricity at the mains and the TV worked..
2) was easy. The computer automatically did the job.
3) was harder. I had to go on the internet to find and download a driver for the printer. I've never tried this before. But I managed.
Of course I failed to tell our old friends how easy it had all been. So they were suitably impressed.
And then I walked home. My "success" gave plenty of power.

On the 7th of November, I referred to myself as a "fitness-addict". I still am.
The "idea" has spread, though.
When this morning already at about 10 o'clock I drowsily crawled out of bed I heard a familiar sound (plus audible groaning) from our sitting room. My exercise bike just raced along. I hurried in there and saw Matron biking cheerfully away.
Also she is now keen on exerciseing. In fact she is noted for 5 consecutive days to have spent 15-30 minutes per day on this "vehicle". Furthermore she often accompanies me on my almost daily walks. And we've also biked together a bit.
There is a bit of competition. All activities are recorded on the computer with time, distance, and calories. I am still number one in total, but Matron is catching up on me on the exercise bike.
For once, I don't mind being overtaken - even by an aging lady.

I have been retrieving today - brilliant sunshine, beautiful weather.
But the retrieve was not just an ordinary one for me.
All day I have - besides finding pheasants now and then with the help of my two disobedient dogs - been walking with my cycling idol Martin Mortensen from Team Vacansoleil. He was on the retrieve with his father in law who had told him to help me old man with carrying pheasants and other practical things throughout the day.
Such help, I have never had before and certainly not by my bike idol, whom I have so often mentioned in my diary, and read about, and watched on TV.
He wanted to learn about hunting from me - and I would like to learn more about the sport of cycling from him.
I may have learned more than Martin did.
In any event, I enjoyed walking around with a known and good bike rider whom I have followed for some years. It gave my day an extra boost.
I am a lucky fellow.

I am a lucky man. Listen why:
1. I was awakened at 9 a.m. because of an interesting telephone call about a retrieve I am going on tomorrow, Monday.
2. Matron made me a good lunch.
3. My own computer still works flawlessly. Thank you to those who helped.
4. Since it works I don't have to sit and watch handball on TV in the sitting room. It bores me immensely. I can just go to my good computer and write. Have just decided to try to finish my next book. Have been working on it for some years.
5. I have successfully improved my antivirus program.
6. Tonight we are going to have duck and rice a la mande (rice pudding with almonds) plus cold cherry sauce. Leftovers from last night's dinner with family. Lovely.
Well. Is my life not just wonderful? ?

I am watching football on TV, Bundesliga, Bavaria Munich vs Frankfurt. Good game.
And again it happens. The camera pans across the crowd. And suddenly he sits there, Bayern Munich's former and famous goalkeeper who also played for Germany.
Now, what is his name? I think and think, but to no avail. Cannot remember. Matron joins my memory test and like me cannot think of his name, albeit we both have followed German football for many years.
I think that I more and more often find myself in the situation that I do not remember the name of a celebrity - or an old acquaintance. I think and think and occasionally get annoyed with my self over my lack of memory. And it may take a long time before it comes back, sometimes a day or so.
This time I was luckier. The goalkeeper's name is Oliver Kahn. I just remembered it this moment.
15 minutes is not bad.

I believe the whole world will join me in songs of joy. Hosanna in the highest!
My old computer from 2006 works again after its many problems with speed.
No longer shall I sit hand-wringing waiting for a given application or image to appear on my impressive computer flat screenl. No longer do I have to wait 5 minutes for the old device to open or close. No longer is my blood pressure too high.
This happy state of affairs is due to friendly nephew of a somewhat old, old friend. This young man sent me a link to a certain antivirus program. I ran it - and voila, everything worked as it should.
Our Lord be praised for competent, young people's impressive knowledge on computers.
Amen.

I love almost all kinds of fish (just not cooked).
When today I accompanied Matron to a supermarket, she went is first.
Standing outside was one of these great sales vans, always bulging with a large and tempting selection of fish.
In the distance I smelled freshly made fish balls. The smell drove me rapidly nearer, and became more and more attractive.
I almost ran into the store to find the sweet lady who was occupied by a larger purchase of vegetables. I announced that I very much wanted to bring a number of the fish balls home for lunch. She nodded in agreement.
And now the best.
When we were paying for the fish balls the good lady caught of a dish of "curls", as we call them. And I love "curls". I have unsuccessfully asked for them through the past six months.
You may not know what a "curl" is. Let me tell you.
"Curls" are pieces of abdominal "skin" of a porbeagle - a smaller shark. The "curls" have been smoked and were now lying there looking like pieces of twisted, smoked salmon. Do they taste well? YES.
Trust me. With a bit of remoulade and possibly a few bits of raw onion and a little lemon they make the angels sing. They may be a little bit tough, but this does not change the taste
I owe to tell you that also the fish balls were extremely good, and fortunately we have some left for tomorrow.

I have become an exercise addict. Not a day passes without me being physically active in one way or another.
This morning I went for a nice long walk. In the afternoon I spent 35 minutes on my exercise bike pedalling at full speed. Many calories left me.
Between these two activities I went through 2 ½ hours of exhausting trotting around in a shopping center following Matron and eldest grandchild - some of the way at least.
Luckily I was able to level the caloric output and input through a very good and pretty unhealthy, but cozy lunch having a Chinese served by a friendly Vietnamese.
But how it tasted well.

Matron and I were at the dump today as usual with the car a little more than full.
Having arrived we began the hard distribution job. "Small combustible" was there, "green" waste somewhere else and "metal" at a third place etc. There was good distance between the various "places", so it was all in all quite a long walk. (I almost regretted that I just before had had a long walk around our village. I still felt it in my old legs).
Matron and I followed all the rules of the dump and walked around and delivered the waste at its proper place.

Sorting is a key word in dumps - and I don't mind. I was delighted to see that everyone else did the same as we, without the employees having to interfere.
It was good exercise, so I can only recommend the place if you want to get rid of a pound or two.

Today I want to moan, really moan.
It is about my computer, my stationary computer, the stupid fool, the son of a bitch.
It is half dead, is slower than can be accepted.
And I just can not help being annoyed, very much annoyed.

There I sit waiting and waiting, and not a thing happens till after a looooong time it finally gives a few grunts and again after a looooong time it starts opening a programme. It can take between 5 and 10 minutes to open or close an application.
It makes me mad. It makes me loose my will to live.
Last night eldest son found out of that it is my "CPU" that has run wild, up to as high as 100%, and perhaps it is due to a virus on my "svochost" - or what do I know?
Answer: Nothing.
What fancy words I use. I have no idea from where I get them and do not know the least about what they mean.
But if someone should happen to know how I get my "CPU" down to 0 or thereabout, and also know how to make my "svochost'en" behave properly, I would be very pleased to know about it.
PS: That was not why I did not update yesterday. That was due to an error with my web host.

Unfortunately my website yesterday decided to have a day off.

Therefore I could not update it.
Fortunately I can now and can tell about yesterday's uneventful hours that I recovered after the hunt Saturday.

In short, I did not leave our house.

When you are tired as I am right now you sleep well, I've heard.
Now, it's news to me that you have to be tired to sleep well. I always sleep well.
But then I can look forward to going to bed and lie down so my poor, sore right knee can be relieved. Throughout the day it carried me through all sorts of terrain on a retrieve on a wonderful shoot. And mind you. Much of it was pretty muddy. And that really exhausted me.
From the start of the day I wore my pedometer, and in 4½ hours I walked 9,176 steps. That's a lot. Distance 5,5 kilometers.

That must be why it is called "to GO retrieving".

It was sad when today I had to depart from a good, old friend.
For innumerous hours we have been together all over Denmark, and in Germany and England. We have fought the elements and we have enjoyed life when everything went smoothly.
In short. I have sent my old and trusty bike away. We have been on the route together for nearly 15.000 kilometers.
Now it's gone. I have lent it to eldest son.
I hope it will be as pleased with him as it was with me.
From now on I must make do with my fancy mountain bike.

Never before in the history has a revolution so quickly been brought to an end as the one that started this morning here at our house (i.e. "should have started"). It was simply neglected, met with silence from which it died.
And to rub salt in my open wound I was ordered to bring Matron on a shopping raid in northern Germany.
It was precisely that activity I hoped would fall away with my taking over command.
But it did not work..
And I am not exaggerating. It was absolutely unbearable to be there. It was terrible, horrifying.
I consider the trip as a punishment for my attempt to seize power.
I shall never again try to be a revolutionary.

After a bloodless revolution tomorrow, the first of November 2012, will bring a change of government at this house.
Matron will abdicate in favour of her hitherto cowed servant, me.
In practice this will mean that I am going to make all decisions relating to both my working hours and my leisure myself.
No more shall others than I decide when I want to go to bed, and when I want to get up.
No more will a job list lie waiting for me when the good lady is off for her job.
No more trips into the common market to shop in giant stores.
No more visits in 2-3 supermarkets within the same morning.
In other words: My freedom beckons ahead.
Now I just have to make sure that the new order actually works immediately starting tomorrow morning.
How, I don't quite know yet.

I have been put under pressure. Heavy pressure. The other day eldest son happened to catch a nice salmon. It weighed 5 kilos and was 87 centimeters. long.
He argues that it is worthy of being mentioned in my diary.
He has sent threatening e-mails and text messages to achieve his goal.
But such things do not make an impression on me. I am bringing the photo of the one reason that by coincidence there was just the space for it. We in the press are not influenced by threats.
Some of us have the courage to neglect it - and some of us have not.

In the dreary weather meteorologists have offered us today I have at no time dared out. I've been stuck glued to my molded couch and watched TV broadcasts that I recorded a long time ago, but never had time to watch.
I have enjoyed myself, and fortunately Matron had no objections. She was at work.
I have been active, though. I spent 25 minutes on my exercise bike and sweated thoroughly. I pedalled strongly.
Fitness bikes have the advantage - as opposed to my "off-road racing bike" - that you can go on watching TV while you race along. So I did.
I became wiser and wiser while calories in high speed left my well-trained body.
It's been a good day. Is life not just wonderful?
Let me answer the question for you: "YES, it is"!

Now it's Monday. Yesterday was Sunday (that's life).
But there's something special about yesterday. Nobody could read my website, which had decided to get serious about keeping Sunday holy and not working - or maybe it was the winter time occurrence that made it unfit for work.
I was contacted by several of my kind readers per telephone and per e.mail. They could all tell about the lack of my Sunday diary. I tried to comfort as best I could. But it was hard.
I do not know how I can make amends for my website absence, besides of course I will refund the subscription price for one and all.
I hope everyone had a good Sunday anyway.

Bjarne Riis, manager of "Team Saxo Bank & Tinkoff Bank", has asked me to join his team for next summer's Tour de France.
However, just as I had accepted, I learned that one of the stages will take the riders up the Alp dHuez twice in a row - and with only 1 hour between them (TWICE IN AN HOUR).
Faced with such madness, I had to re-notify Bjarne that it is just not on. I will not reach my form for such extravagances no matter how skillfully he administers my EPO intake, and he is very good at that.
Currently I ride stages of 25-30 kilometers and only in good weather and only on stretches without any hills. So, I won't make it twice up the Alp dHuez in one day. I shall focus on the Giro d'Italia instead. There it is also easier to escape the doping control.

When first I visited England in 1958, I was introduced to the traditional food, "Fish'n Chips". You bought them in small stalls in the street. In the oldfashioned manner all was packed into a newspaper (later banned for health reasons, blah blah blah). In addition to fish and chips in the newspaper wrapping was poured vinegar or HP sauce.
You walked down the street eating with your fingers wiping them in your handkerchief - or in your trouser legs.
Since then I have enjoyed the same coursel countless times when visiting England.
And honestly: We love it. However we never managed us to find the right "Fish'n Chips" in Denmark. They were plaice and not cod or haddock, as they should be.
But today we succeeded - in a very local snack bar. The right fish in a batter of beer and flour, thick and soft - and good chips.
That was today's dinner in our humble home. What a nice day. It must be done again.

Winter is on its way. We have been promised polar temperatures this coming week end. Already today it is bitterly cold with a wind directly from the north pole, I have been told.
Realizing these low temperatures with promises og frost and snow Matron decided that today was the proper time for changing from summer tyres to winter tyres on our Toyota.
Consequently we went to our mechanic's and had him do the job. He keeps our tyres stored.
But - it was not all pleasure. "490 kroners", he said (62 pounds). I nearly fainted and told him that I was not going to buy his shop. In only wanted to pay for the change of tyres.
But he maintained his price. He's quite a nice chap, anyway.

Let the champagne corks fly. Let cheering run free. Raise the flag. There's something to celebrate.
"And what may that be?" I hear you ask. I'll tell you. Just look here:
At 9.40 last night my homepage reached 500,000 entries (since 28/1 in 2005).
This is quite a few and I am happy about it.
Coincidentally, it was eldest son, who was entry number 500,000 and he was smart enough to photograph the screen with the magic number.

Wearing my fancy bike dress from about the year 1968 I set out on my bike today.
I am rebuilding my form, so it was not long-distance or quick time I obtained.
25 kilometers. It took me almost 1 ½ hours. So no heroic averaging.
But the exercise was there and it was good. I got rid of 490 calories.
I have to return to my previously mentioned clothing.
It is far from up-to-date, and everything seems a bit shabby, and the pants are ragged. All in all it looks somewhat miserable. Matron calls me a "big mess" when she sees me in my cycling outfit.
But everything cannot be Gucci, can it?
PS: Follow th ecounter on my front page. I am going to pass halt a million entries some time tonight - or perhaps early tomorrow.

I've had a good day.
In the morning visits to both our children respectively in Hammel and Hornslet which gave the opportunity to say hello to "the two newcomers", a wonderful, sweet and naughty dog named Tapsie and a ditto little boy named Frederik.
These two visits by far overshadowed that Matron on our way home ordered visits to three supermarkets, two REMA 1000 and a Coop.
In the afternoon visit to the hospital to visit an old friend who is fortunately well after surgery. Very gratifying.
Finally my daily brisk walk, which is now just over an hour. I became a little wet.
But rain and 3 supermarkets despite it has been a wonderful day.
Is not life just wonderful! Love it.

It is dull today, rain, rain, and rain.
And here I am. Had hoped for a slightly longer bike ride than last (about 25 km.) but had to settle for a small walk of 20 minutes, followed by similar time on my exercise bike.
Well, after all that wasn't too bad - at least quite a few calories left my muscular body. This gave a certain unbalance. Too few calories were left inside. Therefore Matron declared "pan cake time" in the soft sofas and with all candles lit, very cosy - and with pan cakes gallore with all kinds of jam so that my calorie deficit could be brought back to level. It was.
I must console myself with the fact that it is my muscles that need exercise, and they had it.
My bathroom scales can rest.

"Mann muss sich nicht verblöffen lassen" ("Don't allow yourself to be amazed"), they say in Germany. And I try every time not to. But I can not help it.
Just think of it. I can sit here in my living room with Matron's computer in front of me and quite costlessly SEE and TALK to the part of the family, who is currently in London. And they, for their part, just have a small cell phone, or whatever it is called, in front of them while we all look, listen, and talk.
It's amazing - and I am amazed, even though it is probably considered a little old fashioned to be so, just because you can see and talk to each other across infinite distances.
When I was much younger, it was amazing to have a film developed and send one or more images by post to friends.

Performed by an aging gentleman of almost 72 years who does not like walking I think it is well done that today I have been walking twice, a morning walk of 20 minutes and a longer afternoon walk of 1 hour and 25 minutes.
In all, it was just under 8 kilometers. It is quite a distance with a sore knee. But there is no pity. I must have my daily exercise - and I get it.
And since the weather does not permit biking, I must of course settle for walks.
However nothing is so bad that it is not good for something. I do not have to clean my bike afterwards. And still I enjoy my food a lot more after hard exercise.

I mowed my lawns today, a not uncommon occurrence in the brighter part of the year.
It took about 40 minutes to mow both lawns and I did it without breaks which certainly impressed me - if nobody else.
But it struck me that I - during most of the session - was thinking of only one thing, "Isn't today the last time I do this boring job this year? The grass cannot continue growing - or can it?"
I do not think so - at least I do not hope so. But who knows?
It seems to me that I have never mowed my lawns as often as this year. The grass grew almost faster than my potatoes.

Although most people prefer spring to autumn the latter of course has its beauty. And I have enjoyed exactly this on my many and long walks recently - despite some rain and wind in between.
The photo is from today with quite fine weather.
Of course I know that this time of the year may bring days with wet and dark weather, maybe all day. Not that I find those days particularly beautiful and wonderful, but then I just have to think of the fact that autumn is also shooting season. I shall go away with my dogs and enjoy nature even more intensely - and also enjoy being together with the shooting party and other retriever people. They are not the worst company to join. I shall be off on Sunday and I am looking very much forward to it.

In this house Matron - as I have earlier told - introduced the rule that whoever is up last does the beds. An inhuman rule which means that every day I am in charge of precisely that part of the household. And it bothers me.
Great was my joy when I this morning woke up for the second at about 10 o'clock and observed that the sweet lady had gone back to bed after her morning coffee and slept like a baby.
Quickly I sneeked out of bed.
Whom do you think did the beds today?
It's been a good day. May there be more of them.

I invited Matron out today - on a bike ride around a beautiful lake not far away. She accepted my invitation.
It's a ride without hills, with the exception of one small one. When this obstacle appeared a fair distance ahead of us the sweet lady declared that she intended to push her bike up. Consequently I carried on, and at the top of the hill I heard my name called. Some panic could be detected in her voice. I turned around - and there she lay on the bike path, thoroughly entangled in her bike. I rushed back and tried to separate the two, but in vain. It was hopeless. Legs, arms, and frame were twisted around each other.
I began pulling my camera out, but in no uncertain terms I was told, "No photos".
Fortunately an elderly couple arrived. When assured that nobody was injured they helped seperating the entangled parties.
Relieved we thanked for their assistance and continued our ride.
Had the sweet lady been on her own, she would still have been there embracing her bike in the gravel. It could have been a very long night.

My first retrieve this year was appropriately today.
Appropriately, because weather and game was so good.
I enjoyed it very much together with a group of guns and my retriever colleagues. Lovely people.
The only drawback of the day was that my right knee is still somewhat sore, and it did not improve matters that I had to walk in muddy and heavy terrain through all sorts of scrubbery.
Just for fun I wore my pedometer which upon return showed 7992 steps, and I was the one who walked least.
It was tough but still nice.
As can be seen on the photo I brought my hunting chair to relieve my knee when having to wait. But every time when I had to get up I needed assistance. Thank you very much to those who hurried to lift me up .

I have spent my day recovering from yesterday's strenous retrieve. And so have our two dogs. In fact they have slept since we came home yesterday afternoon.
I haven't.
I was up at 10.30 a.m., went shopping with Matron, and to have a bulb changed at my mechanic's.
It all lasted 1½ hours.
And that concluded today's "going out" for me. I shall spend the rest of my day sitting in my moulded sofa watching cricket with two dogs curled up at my feet until Matron occupies the remote control.
PS: The thing about dogs at my feet is not quite true. I tend to lift both legs onto the table. But don't tell that to Matron.