Gunnar Rasmussens Hjemmeside

I have a confession.

When Matron with regular intervals brings home various "instruments" that she found in a DIY or a supermarket I can not always stop uttering a small skeptical remark that this or that device could join all the other unnecessary things that she through the years has fallen for and that now lead a sad existence in the shed, garage or utility room.

Same thoughts I had, last year when she brought home a gutter cleaner (see picture). I was convinced that it was useless. I must confess. I was wrong. It is particularly effective. We have never had such clean gutters as now.

That I because of sloppy fixing of the instrument and a mistaken idea of the use of it became sopping wet is another matter. I had to change all my clothes. You cannot blame the cleaner for that.

Good deal, old girl.

What is nicer than being visited by good friends? Not much. And they're even from Loegstoer up north.
A small and very delicious lunch prepared by the sweet Matron caused joy to all participants.
Then a small drive in the car to the area around the Aarhus bay and to the Mollerup Estate, finishing here at home with coffee and raspberry cakes that we all four like very much.
There was something special about these raspberry cakes. The glazing was like a Danish flag. They should really have been eaten when Denmark won the World Cup in football now in the summer, but since it apparently does not materialize we could not find a better opportunity than eating them here and now with real connoisseurs of raspberry cakes.
It's been a good day. I love good days.

All the work I have done today in fact needed 10 men. They just did not turn up so I had to do it all myself.

I'll just mention a few of my jobs, vacuum cleaning the whole house, washing the floors throughout the whole house and mowing the lawn all around the whole house.

In addition, I had single-handedly to shop in a couple of shopping centers.

My salary?

A happy Matron. And that should not be taken lightly.

Can't help it. Once again I found pictures that reminded me of the past. Nostalgia.

In 1958 the coach of our boys' team was very keen on making money for the team.

He contacted at big washing powder firm, and suggested to them that they used the team in perfectly white cricket clothes and told the whole world that this what their washing powder could do for the world.

Pictures were taken, but never used commercially.

The boys had a great day at the photographer, anyway.

Some years later when the boys had grown a bit older I played with most of them. There were good cricketers among them.

My brother is also there. Can you spot him?

Nostalgia caught hold of me when I sat down to write today's diary. It should have been about something quite different than what you are going to see.
The reason: Just as I sat down my eyes caught the photo to the left lying there on my desk. I have quite a few photos in disorder waiting to be sorted.
The photo in question shows my Mum and Dad before they got married (1938). It's from 1937. My Dad was 26 years old and my Mum 20.
My Mum was "a smasher" and my father "a good looking chap" which fortunately I inherited from him.
The photo was taken at the street in Silkeborg where my grandmother lived.
Oh dear, oh dear. Nostalgia, nostalgia. It means more and more in one's life.

About the day today is only one thing to say. Record day.

73 kilometers I rode together with brother Kjeld in the region of Mols and Djursland. The first 38 kilometers were in a fierce headwind. As we turned around in Grenaa, it went much better, backwind.

73 kilometers is the longest I've ridden this year - and in the most hilly area I've been in. Good signs for my form.

And in the middle of all the joy I had the annoyance that my bike computer fell out over a distance of 14 kilometers. Most annoying. Fortunately, however, I had my old odometer connected too.

So all in all a super day. Good training. If all goes as planned we shall bike around Fuenen some time in May.That will be over 200 kilometers. Tough.

Today, this potato grower was active. Along with one of countless grandchildren he planted 29 potato plants in the big potato field at the end of the garden.
As shown nothing was left to chance, as a marker was placed exactly where each plant should be, holding the mandatory distance between them of 40 centimeters.
We potato growers are fussy about this.
Of course, the potatoes had been germinating in the bedroom for 2-3 weeks before today they were lowered into the ground. Bedrooms should, according to information gathered, be particularly suitable for germination of potatoes. Why I do not know.
Now come the exciting days when every day I shall check whether anything is visible above the ground. My estimate is that we are facing a record season.

A Danish national symbol, the old milla at Dybboel bombed to pieces by the Germans.

Not only is it Good Friday. It is also a memorable day, the day when Denmark exactly 150 years ago suffered its greatest war-related loss at Dybboel in Southern Jutland. The enemy was Austria/Germany (Prussia).
I feel about this date just like about April 9th, the day of the German occupation in 1940.
Today is also a date that you cannot just "walk past".
Much has been said and written about hopeless politicians and generals before and during the war of 1864, a war that as easily as nothing could have been avoided with a result many times better than what came out of it in the end.
As a consequence of the war Denmark lost one third of its land and population - all because of ignorant politicians with crazy ideas of the nation-state.
I hope they had time enough to be ashamed.

From now on I shall bowl only on the off side.

After having finished 5 hard day's "pre-Easter-holiday" at Lemvig with all the tough consequenses that a holiday brings with it I am now back and ready for the relaxation of mowing, sweeping, raking, digging, weeding, planting potatoes, fix tiles, pick up topsoil, washing the car and other relaxing jobs.

Holidays are overvalued. Work is healthier, funnier, and cheaper.

A machine operator at a recycling site in Arendal, Norway had a surprise the other day.

An old safe was brought in and just for fun of it he spent some time to get it opened helped by an excavator. He thought that it might be nice if there were 1 million kroners in there. He made many unsuccessful attempts but finally he let the safe fall from a great height. Up jumped the door and out fell 117,000 Norwegian kroners (106,000 DKR).

The good man hesitated perhaps a bit and envisioned a great holiday in the south, but still he took the money to his boss who found the real owner.

"Honesty lasts," said the operator.

Unfortunately he will not recieve any finder's fee since the owner does not want to come forward. So much for honesty.

When I want to be celebrated I climb up into something tall and wave down to the people. Thus also today. Only my problem was that there was nobody to be waving to apart from Matron. I had to content myself with that. I thought she might have waved back.

Forunately she was nice enough to take pictures of me up there on my pedestal that I so courageously had crawled in spite of the very strong storm today.

Today one of the greatest and best cycling races, Paris-Roubaix, was on. Among other things the race is on cobblestones, at least 50 kilometers.

Unfortunately, I was not home to watch it. It is the first time for many years this has happened.

But I can live with it. I've recorded it.

As a compensation for my not watching it directly, I got a unique experience at a flea market. The people there had really upped things and had invited a singing duo that sang old pop songs. They were awful. Only a few notes were correctly hit. In short, their singing was totally out of tune. I laughed out loud, which made Matron ask me to stop. She thought it was embarrassing to stand there laughing. I thought the music was embarrassing.

Yesterday Matron was attacked by some nasty back pain that sent her to bed all afternoon. That's not very nice of her since it means that I shall have to do all the work. Fortunately stop-she recovered so much that she could eat dinner that I served - at a restaurant.

This morning the situation had improved, so we ate breakfast at home.

And, oh woe and horror.

This morning it was I who was suffering from back pain, which meant that I could not participate much in walks through a flea market, a pedestrian street, a butcher's shop and a supermarket. It annoyed me very much that I had to spend time in the supermarket cafeteria, while others with big smiles on their lips rushed around in there and tore items off the shelves.

But we've all got our own little cross to carry.

Today schools closed down to go on Easter holiday.

Both children and teachers love this holiday because it means spring and relaxation.

I rarely had an Easter holidays when I was active. For me it was the culmination of preparation for the coming school year. Therefore, I spent my holidays buried in the planning tasks of all kinds.

I remember that some years I had a break for 1-2 days during the holidays.

But I do not remember all the work as a burden. Many times I enjoyed doing it to be able to present suggestions to the teachers after the holidays.

But now I am on Easter Holiday as much as I like - all year round.

I thought it was over.

After having renovated 4 rooms in the house, I was naive enough to think that now for a longer period we should not spend money on repairs and new purchases.

How naive can one be?

Suddenly yesterday night it ran like wildfire through the house that on an online auction a sofa and a couple of chairs plus a coffee table were for sale to the highest bidder. Matron cannot resist a possibility like that so she immediately went in and raised the previous highest bid with an astronomical sum.

Therefore, my evening was spent on picking up the items and move heavy furniture around. My influence on the project? ZERO. Well, never mind. It looks quite pretty. I am happily married, but expensively.

It is the 9th April, a day, I can not just "go by" without making a stop thinking 74 years back. That makes it 1940, the day when Germany occupied Denmark.

Even if I was not born on April 9th, only 6-7 months later, that particular day has made an impression on me. I've read and heard so much about April 9th 1940. Not least, my parents told me about it.

My father and uncle later became part of the resistance, but my dad felt that he started his resistance just on April 9th 1940. A convoy of trucks stopped and asked for directions to Viborg and Dad directed them towards Aarhus. First activity of the Resistance Movement in Silkeborg.

Later his activities became more serious.

I'm disappointed.

I am on a diet. I'm starving. I feel deprived. It has been going on for a bit more than a week.

For fear of being disappointed, I have not dared climbing my scales. But today I overcame my fears and did. 3 ½ kilos down. I was hoping for more. And so much more since my scales wear the nam "Slim-Line". It could have been more "slim".

Well, never mind. At least I'm on the right track. I must shake off my disappointment and continue.

If only I could bike some more everything would be better. But I hate biking in the rain. I loose much more weight in sunshine.

I did not know that. To me it's breaking news.

Last Saturday was "International Pillow Fight Day".

To those who are as ignorant as I am I would like to inform that it is an annual event celebrated in among other cities, London, Lausanne, Budapest, Berlin and now also Copenhagen. A total of 100 towns hosted pillow fights.

The idea is to meet armed with a pillow and on the whistle you may start hitting whoever you like until feathers fly. Exciting.

I shall do my best to make pillow fight sport part of the Olympics. At least it is more fun than synchronized swimming.

Reports from this year's matches tell that no participant was injured. That's more than you can say about many other sports when they are over.

It's been 2 days doing things that I value highly.

Last night Matron and I watched the Aarhus Cathedral School's "Lancers Quadrilles Dancing" for the graduating classes. Eldest granddaughter, Katrine, represented the family in the best way with the hall's sweetest smile.

I like to see this beautiful and traditional dance being performed. It's strange that Denmark is the only country that continue dancing the Lancers, even if the dance originated in England and France. Other countries have long since stoped dancing it. It was a nice evening.

The good thing continued today as the entire immediate family had dinner with us (at 1 pm.) to celebrate Matron birthday tomorrow. And they were here the whole gang, children, in-laws and grandchildren. They talked and laughed, and I spent part of the time with just sitting there listening and enjoying that once again they were all here.

I get so bl.... mad when my computer will not do what I want it to do.
Today I wanted to download an image processing program that thousands others have downloaded before me and been very happy about. But could I do it?
Nope.
Again and again I was told that my antivirus program would not allow this particular program to be downloaded. And I would SO like to have it in order to brighten up my old photos. I have seen great results from others who have successfully downloaded it.
QzzzxxXXdzy (ie. damn it)

I'm busy at the moment finishing my book on "Frydensbjerggaard" in Silkeborg, former poorhouse and homeless complex.
I am part of its history since I lived there from I was 2½ years old until I was 13½ when my father was the caretaker from 1943.
The photo shows the place in 1949.
I've got 2 drafts back from my consultant with some suggestions for corrections, and I have received high praise for my work, especially for the last one of them. That gives confidence.
My "story" is in fact finished. The content is there. Now I need the job of making the book more readable. And it is an exciting task. Therefore, I spend many hours in front of my computer - and I enjoy every one of them. To write is to live.

A caravan should be washed a couple of times a year, especially, it is important just after winter. This fact does not make it the least more fun doing the job. In fact, it is an infinitely boring and tiring work. And there I was in my front garden straining beyond the bearable with water, soap and brush, you know swearing silently when my sweet neighbor came out and looked quietly at my activities. "Now it is obviously spring," she said. That was an encouragement. Suddenly it was not so tiring and tedious all that rubbing and drying. Caravan trips will soon be coming. Not bad.

Christmas is over and we can start preparing for next Christmas that, as usual, is on 24th of December.
Yesterday our Christmas tree from last Christmas suffered a slow death being pushed step by step into the greedy flames. For a long time it has been lying around in the garden, waiting for better times, but one must realize they did not come.
Perhaps as a "Christmas tree revenge" I got a nasty blister on my left thumb. The pain did not go away until late last night. It hurt.
Christmas trees are avengers.

The potato season is about to start. Today I dug the whole of the great field to make the soil loose and easy when in a few days I am going to put the potatoes down.
Digging a whole potato field requires strength and a strong back and since I seemed to lack either I had to compensate with a few breaks.
Every time I sit down it is a hundred percent sure that both dogs will arrive to settle at my feet hoping for me to stroke them. Of course I do not want to disappoint them and they will faithfully be lying or sitting next to me till my break is over.
They do not like me getting up. But that's okay with me. I bow to their wishes since it makes my breaks a little longer - and I love a long breaks.

I was at my 6 month's check at my doctor today. The good medicus had no major comments on my health.

Kidney figures were admittedly a little bit too high, nothing of significance. Cholesterol the same. Blood sugar perfect. In other words, nothing was too high - ie. until we came to talk about my weight. That was another matter. I was on the scales last Friday and it told me 130 kilos (about 22 stone).

I admitted my over weight, but could at the same tell tell that I started a diet also last Friday.

The doctor declared his satisfaction with the diet and asked me to climb his weight. I was not too happy about that but I did. 127 kilos including my clothes that the kind man assessed to 1 kilo.

In other words I lost 4 kilos in 4 days. That is satisfactory. I have biked quite a bit - and eaten jus a very small bit. That must be the explanation.

Eldest granddaughter is happy, very happy. After a short search, she managed to find a great apartment in the most central part of Aarhus, even a large one of over 70 sqm. It is a bit like winning the lottery. So now we are going to see powershopping for equipment.

The apartment was inspected today.

I am always very happy when my grandchildren are happy. So I'm happy quite often. I have great grandchildren, but it's not amazing considering the granddad they are having.

I am said to be the best granddad in the world.

Now is the time. At 2 o'clock tonight, you must put you clocks one hour forward.
It is a long time to sit waiting for it but you might pass time by thinking about the benefits of summer-time.
According to the "National Association Against Summer-Time" there are not many of them.
I have checked the association's facebook to find out more about their counterarguments.
That did not make me a lot wiser. Most arguments were, "summer-time is annoying." Well, OK then.
One states that, "I staggered out of bed an hour ago, went in the semi-darkness to fetch the newspaper. Heard radio warning of ice on the road and fog that will not disappear until much later. Leave the clock alone."
Now that's a powerful argument. It's damned annoying with icy roads and fog.
I myself find summer time a good idea. Long and bright evenings are a blessing.
It will soon be summer, my friends. Let the sun shine until late in the evening.
(Photo shows "Jens Olsen's World Clock" at the townhall in Copenhagen).

I fought 3 battles today on my bike ride around a beautiful lake, a very nice ride recommended by another bike enthusiast.

I fought against my long-lasting cold. It does not improve your performance on a bike. Next battle was against some steep hills around the otherwise beautiful, small town Thorsager. Last battle was against myself. I had to really dig deep to find the motivation to continue after having covered about 40 km.

But I won all three battles and proudly rolled into our garage after 52 kilometers.

When in crisis on a bike, everything is annoying, cars, people, holes in the asphalt, ugly houses, bike's color, noisy motor bikes etc etc. Furthermore some signs have been put up at the roadside to make people recuce speed, just a little bit. They nearly made me boil over. Damn it. Had I reduced speed just a little bit I would have stopped.

Now trouble is here. The lawn must be mowed. I did it for the second time this year just today. The first time was 1st of January. It's a mad world.
I can now look forward to the summer knowing I have to trot about 35 times behind my mower. It takes about 1 hour each time. I walk close to 1 kilometers per time. That is 35 hours and 35 kilometers.
From a health perspective, it is fine, but from seen a complacency point it is terrible.
Well, well, Mr. Rasmussen. Now relax - and listen carefully.
You know that mowing is good for letting your thoughts run. One does not activate many brain cells to mow a lawn, and that gives plenty of oppotunity for fruitful thoughts about "this" or "that". In particular, you like "that".
And then: You are of course also pleased that the weather will be warm and comfortable soon.
Yes, yes. I know. That's right. Thank you for the kind words.

In Denmark this year we have been blessed with the warmest spring for years and years.
Last year the average temperature for March was -0,8. This year it's more like 7-8.
I am going to mow my lawn tomorrow (if "rain doesn't stop play"), and never ever have I done that in March before.
We had a lovely summer last year after a very cold winter. Please don't let the opposite be the case this year.
The picture is from March 26th last year.

I was at my health center today. Blood tests, ECG, etc.
There are 2 waiting rooms, and one can easily see and hear from one to the other.
I sat down, took my iPhone out and checked miscellaneously. All the time names were called, names of people who were supposed to go in. I was not really listening, just waiting for my own name.
But then I suddenly startled. I had not seen that one coming. "Alex Well," someone shouted. That made me sit up. What on earth does a guy with that last name do at a health center?
After that I thought it could also have been a message from one nurse to another in another room, "Alex well", ie. a quick announcement that Alex was cured.
I was hoping for the latter, but never had it confirmed.
Visiting your health center is not always boring.

I can not with any justification claim that the biggest music festival in Scandinavia, the "Roskilde Festival" has ever interested me the slightest. I just watch a bit of news with mud fights and drugs.
But now it may be that I finally want to buy a ticket.
"The Rolling Stones" are coming and the Danish elderly organizations are delirious and excited. There will be music for us old ones who yet remember when Mick Jagger and friends provoked worldwide with music that we quickly came to like.
And now for a measly 2.100 kroners we can go and see and listen to them. A paltry 20 million is the fee to the group. Finally, a little money is spent on us old people so that we can have an exciting evening.
Be careful over there at the festival site. The walkers on wheels are coming. Remove all mud so that we can get safely through.

Call me old-fashioned - I've got the age for it anyway.
Throughout my life, I was always irritated when seeing women smoking in the street. I am unable to explain my irritation in reasonable arguments. I just think it looks wrong. Oddly enough, I am not nearly as irritated seeing men smoking in the street.
What is it that makes the difference for me?
This morning I sat waiting in my car while Matron raided a supermarket and there, right in front of me, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth a young girl, 18-20 years old, came walking. Had she at least held it between her fingers.
I became so angry that I almost jumped out of my car to tell her off, but I refrained.
Had it been a man my reaction would have been different.
I'm sorry, girls.

Silkeborg history, but also in a sense my history.

The picture is taken in 1905, 35 years before I was born. Paint- and wallpaper shop "Peter M. Hansen", Vestergade 15 in Silkeborg was founded in 1873.

The reason for my interest in the company is that when I was 16 years old I was employed there as a messenger boy and worked with the company for one year, until I started college.

It was an instructive year in many ways. Of course I learned a lot about the wallpaper and paint, but I also learned about the hierarchical structure.

At the top the boos, an elderly man, just below him, "Junior" , the boss's son, the shop leader, the skilled clerks, the office manager, office and shop apprentices - and then, at the very bottom I , the wretched errand boy.

I advanced a little, though, since as I also worked in the shop, selling, during busy periods. But I never left the bottom of the rankings.

I was lucky to be able to make a little money in the company, while I studied, a good contribution to a very low student loan.

Unfortunately the company does not exist any more. But that for me there are good memories from the time I was there.

Unfortunately I have to continue yesterday's health complaints. They are consequenses of today's jobs ordered by her Majesty, Matron.
1) Spreading lime on the lawn,
2) Spreading fertilizer on the lawn and
3) Loading the car with waste and driving it to the dump - and unloading it.
I felt good getting these things sorted, but my back had a loud comment saying that it utterly disliked this. Twice it forced me to take a break.
Now I have finished my jobs and the old back still reminds me that I'm not 70 anymore.
But of course, I have overworked it for 73½ years. If only it will hold out till the end I should not complain.

I've got an inflamation of my eyes. Diagnosis made this morning at her house by our knowledgeable daughter who immediately opened her fridge and took out some small pipettes with eye drops.
I hate having my eyes dropped, I simply hate it. But in this situation with my determined daughter standing over me with the pipette in her hand I was not the one to do the usual evasive actions and heavy panting that I usually do when my sweet wife carries out the treatment.
I was in determined but after all safe hands.
By the way, it is no wonder that I have caught the above mentioned infection. I'm surrounded by cold- and flu-affected children, in-laws and grandchildren. They are having a temperature and are popping in and out of their doctor's surgery.
I am generally at good health. This is the first time for many years that I have been infected by anything. But never mind. I'm fond of everything I get from them. I love all of them.

It is little Frederik's birthday today, a great day. 2 years, so he is really quite indifferent.

However his interest grows when big sister, auntie, mother, father, grandparents and many others are distributing gifts. They are much appreciated.

The young man is particularly interested in vehicles, especially in tractors, so they represent a certain part of the gifts. But there is certainly no ingratitude towards other gifts.

The birthday table with candles and flags and sweets will undoubtedly also be interesting but best of all to him will be that we are all going to be there. He loves parties.

Oh dear, he is cute - and he loves his granddad, who becomes soft all over every time he sees the little fellar.

Congratulations Frederik. We are looking look forward to celebrating you.

My faithful dog Sydney underwent surgery this morning. A growing tumour on his chest was removed. It may be malicious. We'll find out in the course of time if it begins growing again. We certainly hope not.
The operation went well and we could pick him after an hour.
Sydney is not a very good reader.
He knows a lot about ducks and pheasants, particularly where they want to hide. But the art of reading he never quite grasped. Therefore, I had the greatest difficulty in getting him to understand the sign that was posted in the veterinarian's waiting room. We had to spell our way through it.
Apparently he then understood. Not a drop left him when we were there.
Now it is all about recreation which Sydney will not protest against as long as he is allowed to run like hell on his daily walk with our sweet neighbor.
(On the sign it reads, "Please respect that dogs are not allowed to urinate in here").

I became happy (again) today.
Saturday I received response from the friendly curator, who is helping me on the manuscript for my next book. It is the second response I have received.
And as he was satisfied. There was praise all over for me.
Of course, there were also suggestions for corrections which I just now am working on.
I'm purring like a little pussy cat when I sit here at my computer working on the book. The mouse on my desk now and then is looking a little scared at me.
In any event, it makes me happy to work on my book which - if everything runs smoothly - may be published once during the fall or winter.
I just hope that someone will publish it.

Sunday afternoons have their own characteristics, depending on the season.
Sundays in the cooler time of the year - such as today - to me is associated with tranquility, rest, TV, facebook and something sweet for afternoon tea.
That was also the way enjoyed this Sunday.
Summer Sundays, however, I connect with outdoor activities - except of course when the Giro d'Italia, the Tour de France, or the Vuelta A Espana are on.
During those 9 weeks, every single day is as a Sunday in the cold period. Leaving facebook out, though.
For me it is not always easy to find out what season we are in.

After having been up for an absolutely necessary errand at 4.30 pm. I lay sleepless for 1 ½ hours.
That did not bother me. On the contrary. Outside the storm raged with windgusts like a hurricane and with lots of rain. And here I lay rejoicing that here I was under a nice and warm quilt in pleasant surroundings.
That luxury is not for anybody - and certainly not the Stone Age family. At best, They were in a cave with some skins - and without our pleasant district heating.
I also thought about the times when I was in the army and was forced to sleep outdoors in all kinds of weather.
Thinking of all that it was pure pleasure to be awake.
It doesn't take a lot to please a 73-year-old.

Whom do you reckon has moved 1/4 tons of crack tiles from the back of the back yard and put them as an extra layer in the front of the front yard? What?
Yours truly. Just have look at the pictures "before" and "after".
I am "garden mad" so the trouble does not feel so bad.
It's almost like riding a bike. You strain your body to the utmost and feel very comfortable when it's over. And if only you take a few breaks along the way it is really not so hard.
For me it was also interesting that I had not planned this job on beforehand. It just came to me. I should really just have been weeding a bit. Matron did that instead.
I am happy with the result, and shame on those who do not think so. They will not be in my evening prayer.

Matron does get some bad ideas now and then. The majority are about tasks to be solved by myself.

Today the sweet lady claimed that our car badly needed a thorough cleaning, both internally and externally, and that she would assist. I immediately promised to fix the outside and sped off to the nearest car wash. It took a total of 15 minutes and then my obligations were over.

Naive thinking.

I was further more ordered to an interior vacuuming, tidying up and cleaning. Neither I nor my back liked that.

I have a hard life. Anyone who says NO, is going to have their mouths washed in soap water.

I'm probably not the only one who has found out that spring has announced its arrival. And it inspired me to do some work out there in the bright sunshine.

And my word, I was sunburned. Certainly I easily do that, but this is the first time in my 73-year life that it has happened in March. Another new experience.

But I'd love to be much older and experience much more - even if some of it might hurt a bit - and the sun is welcome to shine much longer. But I must buy some sun lotion.

Today, our old King Frederik IX would have attained the age of 115 years. He doesn't look that old on the picture, though.

I think it is unreasonable that it is I who must keep you updated on such royal events. You might jolly well do something about it yourself finding that kind of information. But I know you won't. You are too lazy.

I'm sure that neither do you know that today 338 years ago, the powerful Danish chancellor Peder Schumacher Griffenfeld was arrested and committed to the Citadel Prison on charges of corruption and treason. My goodness, you do depend on me.

Now find something yourself. This is a wake-up call.

As shown in the picture, I have been wearing my best and only working trousers today. They bear the mark of been worn by an enthusiastic and diligent painter. As you can see we didn't save on paint. We had plenty of it.
Wearing these and in a super teamwork with a good and skilled friend we finally completed the renovation of 1) utility room, 2) Matron's room, 3) my room, 4) guest toilet and 5) bathroom.
It has been a long and laborious way. But now the end is here. Today the very last jobs were completed. It has been hard but worth while. It simply looks great.
As shown in the photo, not all the paint ended where it should, but then again so much else did.
The final result is excellent and will, on a scale from 1 to 10, easily score 12.
I have already been contacted by a well know housing magazine. They want to come here and take a series of photos.
Why not?

Well, yes, for God's sake, let me tell it.
The following took place yesterday, and I hoped I wouldn't have to to tell it, but pressure from family and friends force me to.
I had planned to go for a bike ride, a long one of 60 kilometers. I was looking very much forward to it. I had to make several preparations, clothing, various equipment in the form of camera and bike computer, drinking bottles, various stimulants and a lot more.
I put on my biking dress, grabbed all the equipment and started walking towards my workshop where my bike always is when suddenly it struck me that my bike was away for service, and I forgot to pick it up Saturday morning and the shop had closed.
Did I swear a little? Yes, I did, a little more than a little.
Did I think it was a little embarrassing? Yes, I did, a little more than a little.
Do I look a litle bit forward to have my bike back home? Yes, I do, a little more than a little.
So, no bike ride Saturday. One is getting old.

When I was a child and young, a certain cartoon was often seen.
At the family breakfast table the husband sat hidden behind an opened newspaper and took no part in the conversation apart from small grunts and now and then a meekly "yes" or "no."
And it was always the husband who sat behind the newspaper.
This behavior lead to many jokes.
I could not help but thinking about that time when this morning I sat down for breakfast (without a newspaper, mind you) and looked over at Matron.
It was as if the roles have been reversed from those days in the past.
You do not get many words out of her at our breakfast table. There are news, Google, my diary, facebook and solitaire to be taken care of.
But never mind. It means that I can do my crossword in peace and quiet.

When visiting my home town Silkeborg I every time experience that memories - good and bad - emerge.

Yesterday I was there again, and this time it was my school I remembered , "Silkeborg Municipal Middle and Secondary School".

It was probably an ordinary school for better and worse. The same can be said of the teaching staff that was very different.

Some were downright vicious. Have a look at the picture and guess who.

However, you need not guess of No. 1 from the left in the back row, my favorite teacher Anker Nielsen whom I had at mathematics. Nor guess at No. 3 in the same row, Bak Rasmussen, my hisstory- and gym teacher who was the direct reason why I myself became a teacher .

Guess not at No. 5 from left in the front row , Ernst Nielsen, a talented Danish teacher.

But then you can guess wildly among the rest. And you probably won't have a wrong guess. They had very " loose hands" which left their marks on us.

Note that only 7 out of 22 are women. Today, it is the reverse.

Also note that all the men except one wear ties. It is not seen at all any more.

It is greening out there. Spring is here with warm temperratures and everything ready to bloom soon.

This tingling and tickling also means that the bike season is near. Before long, the famous spring classics are on, and I will watch each and every one of them.

My own classics have already started and will rapidly increase with rides in and around Aarhus and Mols and Djursland. Oh dear, I am looking forward to it - also for the big races on TV.

On April 14th it will be the Paris - Roubaix race, the famous "cobblestone race," "A Sunday in Hell", as it is called.

The photo is not from a day in Hell, but an image that makes me happy every time I see it, a memory of mine and my brother's ride on the old army track down through Jutland, completed in June.

What an experience.

It's a struggle, But I'm doing quite well.
Saturday 15th of February I told about my decission to get out of bed no later that 8.30.
With very few exceptions I have kept what I promised, and I am now getting more and more used to it. There may be difficult days when I am a bit late but not much.
Have I benefitted from getting up so early?
Eeeeh. I'm not sure. I admit that I have more work done in the mornings but also that I get very sleepy around 12 o'clock and it has happened that I fell asleep during lunch, a very unpleasant experience. May it not happen again.
But all in all it is better to get up at 8.30 than at 10.30.

Spring is here. The days are getting brighter and the temperature more comfortable.
Which season is more beautiful?
The day has increased by almost 4 hours and it's become easier and easier to get out of bed, an exercise that I otherwise for many years have had a number of problems with.
But now I think I'm about just having learned it, and I am looking forward to every day that I get out of bed.
The alternative would be a nuisance, though, wouldn't it?
I have promised myself not to write about biking today - but dear me, it's hard not to. But I don't. I do have a bit of resistance, hopefully.

I had the world's sweetest father in law, a gentle, accommodating and quiet man who did not conceal his joy in his grandchildren, of whom he had five, the two of them ours.
They loved when he came to visit, as did the Matron and I.
Peter was his name.
He was once a coachbuilder and worked at the renowned DAB (Danish Automobile Builders) in Silkeborg. There he took part in building the big buses.
One of them is seen in the pictures, both in its finished form and "on its way". It was often called "Red worm" and pioneered bus construction, although it surely never was built in a great number.
On the unfinished bus Peter is seen in the second rear window number 2 from the left wearing a cap.
He was a wonderful father in law.
Sorry about the poor image quality.

I'm so happy to tell that I was wrong in yesterday's prediction about my former football team's game. After being one down after only one minute they came back and won 2-1.

Winning goal scored 5 minutes into injury time.

I happened to see the last 2 minutes, including the goal just mentioned.

Must have been great for the new coach to start with a win. A great day for him.

Also it's a great day for me today. It is exactly 57 years since I first met my wonderful wife, known as Matron. She's a good girl.

New times in my old football club, illustrious AGF. Mind you, it has been so-so with the "illustrious" for many years. But never mind. Now it's a new era. The old, dusty coach is thrown out and a new one has taken his place.
New game today. Now we must show them that new times are here. Now we must show that we are on the ball and will beat those Southern Jutlanders. Remember, this is a new era.
Thinking about all that I sat down in front of the TV from kick-off. Now I was going to watch new football from old AGF.
And what happens? After exactly 1 minute and 8 seconds we are one down. 0-1.
So everything is as usual. I immediately left my seat in front of the screen and went into hiding in my newly decorated and lovely office to write this.
I do not how the game will end, but probably everything is as before, and it will be a new defeat on top of all the others.
It would be glad, though, if I am not right in my prediction.

It may not have come to your attention that my football club is in dire straights,

For a long time things have been quite out of order.

Unnecessary games were lost, players complained about the manager, and yesterday the bomb went off. Manager out - new man in, the former assistant manager.

The press has been right on its toes, it's in all newspapers, radio- and TV-channels.

Of course we all hope that the new manager (an in between) will do the job and save us from relegation. I'm sure it's too late, though.

Next year, 1st division, and my come back at the football ground is postponed for the umpteenth time.

I'll stick to bike racing.

One of my (few) aversions is my bank. I always approach it with some trepidation, and it will get worse when I step inside and catch sight of my bank counselor. I'm sure she just wants to tell me that this or that account is overdrawn and needs a little boost that I will have to take from one of the other overdrawn accounts. You will therefore see me nearing the cash, walking sideways with my back turned to the desks behind on one of which my counselor is sitting .
And oh, horror. The other day Matron and I were summoned to our annual meeting with our counselor. Just to have an overall look at our accounts. I was just as nervous as when going to the doctor or dentist with a problem of some kind.
Fortunately, the conversation was alright - with the exception of one point. I had to make a new assessment for my PBS (monthly expences paid by me through the bank).
"Oh dear," I thought. "Now they've got me . Now hell is near".
With trembling hands I sat down this morning at my computer and put in all the sums.
Huge was my surprise when I found out that our annual spendings had not increased, on the contrary, they have decreased by 65 kroners per month.
That felt good - so now we are going to party.
I owe it to say that my bank councelor is a very sweet lady.

Eventually. The first bike ride of the year. I have been looking forward to that for a long time.
And I was not disappointed, enjoyed biking in the fresh and mild air. Even the hills around Lystrup seemed friendly, and the few people I met smiled at me. I drove past a kindergarten where children were playing outside, and one of the little ones cried out to me: "Hello, man." I shouted, "Hello, my little friend" back to him, and I just heard him saying to one of his friends, "Ooohh, he shouted hello to me." This could be the basis for a lifelong friendship.
It was a good start to season 2014. May the rest be just as good. To bike is to live.

I have forgotten something. I should have shown two images today, one before and one after. Unfortunately I forgot the "before".

But as it appears, I am standing in my workshop. Please note how tidy it is. Everything is hanging or lieing where it should be, and you can actually see the desktop and most of the floor which has not been the case in recent months.

All morning Matron and I spent out there to get order in all the tools that were used during the various alterations we have had done. Tools were simply thrown in to land at a very random place.

But now the workshop is characterized by order. "Everything in place provides space for everything", as stated in my old cricket club's equipment shed in which nothing at any time was in place. Cricket is a complex game, so you can not expect players also to figure out how to keep order in that room. Right?

Today you have to excuse me for 2 things.

1) I am late writing my diary.

2) It will be short because I am exhausted.

I have spent the day just south of the border, visited Flensburg town center and raided a few supermarkets just outside the city. It requires stamina, and according to Matron I behaved well. I shall sleep well on that.

See you tomorrow.

My fear that today would seem in a mist due to a hangover caused by excessive consumption of intoxicating drinks yesterday at the first Christmas party proved unfounded.

Admittedly, I got both schnapps, beer, and Pepsi Max, but not enough to affect my delicate constitution.

Therefore was I fully able to spend the Sunday on the removal of the huge amounts of waste produced during the refurbishment of guest toilet.

Never have I at one time brought so much filth and rubbish to the dumps.

It took an hour to load the car + trailer and almost as long to unload. I had to walk many steps to get around to the various containers with the many different items.

But now it's all gone and one feels extremely comfortable with it. It's almost like getting the absolution.

I am writing my diary early today for a good reason.
Matron and I will in a few hours host this year's first Christmas party, during which I intend to consume intoxicating drinks, and I know from experience that if I wait until after this consumation my writings will be more or less nonsence and that my nice readers do not deserve. There's misery enough in this world.
Our guests will be good, old friends that do not push alcoholic beverages aside in order to take a cup of tea. It is a cheerful company with a tendency to dislike soft drinks.
I'll be back tomorrow at the usual time if God and my hangover will allow it.
Therefore, please, speak softly when you open my diary for Sunday.

"Operation Guest Toilet" is completed, nearly completed. Just needs a little paint and a few wooden lists. This disorder will be brought in order on Monday.
1½ weeks of hard work is over. I still recall with horror taking down wallpaper and tiles as a tough hurdle. I remember removing the toilet and much more. Admittedly, I have had people working at the more technical parts, skilled people who did all jobs perfectly - and with a smile. But still there was enough for the old man to look after, including painting. So now I'm tired and require rest.
Now I'm wondering what the good Matron will find it appropriate for me to do next. I strongly suspect that it will be "skirting boards". The job is simple. ALL skirting boards off and new dittos on.
"Sh..", I say.

Matron is always aware of current trends.
Recently she read that the traditional bed-making is out. The dust mites are given the opportunity to tug in beneath a warm duvet with the ability to multiply almost all day long.
Such things we can not live in this house. We behave decently.
Therefore bed making has now become a matter of folding duvets neatly at the foot of the bed as seen in the picture.
I strongly support this new approach, for it is I who do the beds, and now it can be done very quickly while I wish mites to homes that still do the beds the old-fashioned way.

To spend a day with 2 school psychologists might sound scary. But I must admit that my day with just 2 of those was entertaining to the highest degree.

I do not think that it has anything to do with their jobs but with their personalities.

They are both knowledgeable, they both have a slightly skewed approach to life, and they both have the subtle and slightly understated Jutland humor.

We met because two of us have written books on local history. We exchanged experiences.

But first and foremost we all three told small and large events from our past - all the way back to childhood. Very entertaining.

Lunch was taken at Sevel Inn, famous from TV. The inn is in general recognized for its good food and its entertaining innkeeper. I enjoyed both.

In other words, good and intelligent talk, good lunch at a good inn, and socializing with two entertaining people. It was a good day.

On pictures the inn and the inn keeper.

I was at a reception today, a highly valued reception for the cycling team CULT in which my favorite Martin Mortensen rides.

Martin has been with me on a few hunts and is a very pleasant guyh. We know each other fairly well by now. And I'm proud of that.

And he can ride a bike, he makes the angels sing. Oh dear. I wish it was I who could ride like him. Had I been 15 years old today, I had focused on being bike rider, like Martin though it was also fun to play cricket.

It was exciting to see the new cycling team, CULT which is pushing hard for the upcoming season, and it was nice, although it was brief, just to say hello to Martin, who now is heading south to the warmth to train and race.

The pictures show part of the reception guests and Martin, who is being interviewed.

Envy is an ugly thing. Do not begrudge others their success, and I for one do not intend to do so. I will confine myself to rejoice that others are doing well.

But how well may that be ?

Perhaps the limit is reached when looking at Manchester United's Wayne Rooney. He's getting contract until the summer of 2018.

The young man can look forward to a weekly earnings of 300,000 pounds or 2.73 million DKK - per WEEK. This gives an annual salary of 15.600.000 pounds, 142 million DKK - to play football, which in itself of course is a good and Christian deed.

Envy is alien to me - but I would not protest at an annual salary of that size.

You will be pleased to hear that the process of renovating our guest toilet continues apace.

And that's good. Listen why.

The toilet has been out of use for 5-6 days now. Every night when I have to pay it a visit for a small but necessary errands I've had to remind myself that I could not use it since the toilet bowl is gone. And peeing on the floor would never be accepted by Matron.

This has been fine until last night when I forgot all about it and went in to do what was needed. Luckily in the last moment, I managed to detect that there was in fact no bowl. So quickly I jumped into the bathroom.

But what a fuss there could have been had I not been so vigilant.

But look at the 3 pictures with me as an active commentator for the diligent tiler inside in the toilet. And see also the preliminary results. I guarantee you that it will be great.

I've made a decision which will no doubt surprise those who know me.

I want to get up earlier. I have given myself a probationary period of 2 weeks which is now over, and I have slowly come into the habit. I'm out of bed between 8 and 8.30 am.

I know it pleases Matron who is of the little old school that claims that "early to bed and early up, that is healthy for a little boy."

In the course af the first week I doubted the point about. I felt ready to go to bed at noon. But now things are much better. Now I can wait till about 4 pm.

In any case, it has turned out that I do feel better by getting up earlier.

Who would have thought that only two weeks ago? Not me.

Research has moreover shown that the later you get up, the poorer your mood is.

Consequence: Get up early and stay happy. I never thought I would hear myself saying that.

It must be known that I have a weakness for raspberry cakes. In fact, I am a raspberry cake addict.

Therefore, it was a lovely experience that our sweet neighbor today appeared with a plateful of its kind, the very best kind. We quickly served a cup of tea, and much against my wishes the cakes were put on the table. Of course I had to accept it, but pointed out to the happy giver and to Matron, that if they wanted to take a cake it should be the smaller ones which as far as I could was followed.

One does not voluntarily give away such great values.

Yes, life is worth living, when someone comes with raspberry cakes for you.

(The picture shows the remains, after I had made my first attack.

A few days ago, I expressed my enthusiasm for Ireland and all things Irish.

I did, however, leave out one thing that does not excite me, Irish stew. I'm not mad about it.

To give you some background for this I should like to tell about an event from the days when our two children were 7 and 10 years old.

They were both a bit picky and when Matron one day they had made Irish stew for dinner things accellerated. Both kids flatly refused to take as much as a single bit after just having had a tiny mouthful. We parents agreed that now was the time for the two to learn a lesson.

The kids were to learn that you eat what is served.

By then I had eaten half a plate full and had to admit that it did not taste well, on the contrary.

Nevertheless the message sounded, "Eat - and no one leaves the table until everybody has finished."

Small mouthfuls were squeezed down, very slowly and slower and slower. Protests from the two were flatly rejected. I myself had with great difficulty finished my plate.

Almost 1 hour had passed, and not a lot had left the plate. And protests grew stronger and stronger.

Now we parents were looking for an excuse to stop the process. It came by itself, as the youngest threw up trying to swallow another small mouthful.

Then we stopped, and Irish stew has never since been served here in our family. That's good.

Today I read in a newspaper about how to figure out how many calories you burn when running. Not that I could think of doing it, but the calculation is so simple that I want to make others aware of it.

Let's say you run 5 kilometers. Your weight is 65 kilograms.

All you have to do is multiplying the two numbers and consequently you have burned 325 calories.

Simple, isn't it?

It is not difficult to understand that the more you weigh, the more calories you'll burn.

And that's where I benefit. If it (much to my regret) were to be me who ran the 5 kilometers I would burn 625 calories. But you are not going to make me reveal my weight. That's my little secret.

I 'm proud and happy today. In my mailbox I read a friendly and flattering praise of my website.

Fortunately, it has happened before that somebody said something nice about my website but it's the first time I receive praises from Fermoy in Ireland.

My website has gone global.

The fact that it was from Ireland made me extra happy because I love almost everything that is Irish, be it pubs, sing songs at the pub, the people, the beautiful, green island - and Guinness.

Unfortunately I have only been in Ireland once, but I would not mind another visit over there - although the weather can be a little humid. Then you have to seek dry weather at the pub. There is one for every 50 meters, more or less.

And Giro d'Italia starts in Ireland this year. Waugh. Another good reason why I want to be there.

There are some issues I would like to criticize in our city, Aarhus. Therefore, I am putting together a letter to the editor of all suburban and commercial newspapers in the town.
Here are two points:
1) I can not understand that cycling should not be allowed in pedestrian streets. I have done it quite often. And there are people who complain about it, even among my closest friends. You could very easily design pedestrian streets so that pedestrians are out in either side of the street at the stores and we cyclists are in the middle. And of course cyclists have the right of way for pedestrians. That's only reasonable.
2) I can not believe that one should not urinate in the city's swimming pools. After all, a small drop mixed with the hundreds of thousands of gallons of water can not mean anything. But I do approve of the ban on men urinating from one of the diving boards. That is disturbing to many.
A letter to the editor of this content will shake up the apathetically lazy members of our town council.

I've burned calories today. Last "burning" was 16 km. on my exercise bike. Hard job, but healthy, they say.

Before the ride, I was a bricklayer for some hours - also a strenuous job. Just listen.

The best memories will recall that even if we had 3 rooms shined up in the autumn, our utility room and two rooms, Matron still wanted the guest toilet to have a new image.

The operation started today. I broke down all the old tiles. Extremely hard work, I dare say. Many ugly calories left me involuntarily. Look at the photos "before" and "after" just above. Spot the difference.

2 "burnings" in 1 day. That must help.

Today, I had very nice trip down Nostalgia Lane.
I have long since reached the age when nostalgia takes the upper hand and can be a nuisance to others. So you have to point out your "victims" with care.
Today I was lucky. Youngest granddaughter was visiting us and came to me in my office, where I spent most of the day writing. She started gently asking if I might have a picture on my PC from when I was 15 years old like she is now. To ask me to show pictures from my childhood and youth is like beating the spun off a beer keg.
So she got the full range of images, almost 200 of them.
To my surprise, she seemed to enjoy seeing them. Of course there were also pictures of herself as a child and also of her father as a child and her cousins.
I enjoyed so much talking to her and answering questions. I am looking forward to the next time someone asks me to show pictures from the past.
But remember, plenty of time is needed.
The photo above is the picture that started today's nostalgia wave. It's from my confirmation in the spring of 1955. Good looking chap, I think.

No event is too small to get a big coverage in my diary because these small events are part of my everyday life.
Today's event is once again centered around Matron, this wonderful woman who has so many abilities. I appreciate each and every one of them, but right now I particularly appreciate her ability to bake white bread loaves and buns. She is world champion on these two disciplines.
I have only just minutes ago swallowed a bun with a thick layer of strawberry jam. It was like a taste of heaven.
Also children, in-laws and grandchildren appreciate her bakings and gladly drive a long way to acquire a loaf or two and some buns.
It must be wonderful to be so popular in the family.
PS: She is also damned good at baking black bread.

I'm sorry about this one. However, it must come out.
According to an online newspaper today, men are somewhat more forgetful than women. And that regardless of age.
A research team from "The Norwegian University of Science and Technology" has published research results explaining the background of a truth that most women claim to know and are irritated about. Men remember badly. 37,405 people participated in the survey which showed the clear result.
But researchers emphasize that they can not yet point out a single decisive reason. Therefore. Dear male colleagues!
We seemingly must give in and confess that our memory is miserable.
But really for me it is quite handy when Matron reminds me of a job I forgot to do. I can now with a clear conscience say, "Well, old girl. You know that we men have a lousy memory. Research has proved that. And we can not help it."
This will calm her down - I think - maybe - and then again maybe not.

I am a industrious man. I work very hard on my next book.

Today I have written since 9:30 this morning - with only a lunch break - and right till now (the time is 16:40). In a little while I shall sit down again bringing the story of the homeless complex Frydensbjerggaard in Silkeborg on.

I lived there from 1943 to 1954. My father was employed as a caretaker.

It is a difficult story to tell. The events are almost tripping over each other. I find it hard to keep the chronology, which my consultant on the book is very keen on

None of the residents are still alive, besides a few of their children. I have to use my own memory and - not least - The Silkeborg Archive.

But ask me if I love the writing?

You can count on that. A writing day is a good day.

Politically my father was a social democrat, a " deep-in-heart-social democrat " .
His ideal was the former Prime Minister and former typographer H. C. Hansen and before him it was the former cigar maker Th. Stauning.
Father cared very little about the many recent politicians with degrees in politics and other members with a university background. He wanted someone in charge who had had both feet firmly planted on the work floor and not hovered round in an academic sky.
I come to think of this, because I would like to have known what Dad would have thought of all the nonsense that is going on these days in domestic politics.
He would no doubt have sworn heartily over the right turn his old party has made. He would have written angry letters to the editor about all the academics that time and time again fool around and screw up. At membership meetings in the Social Democratic Association he he would have thundered against the way things are going. And he would have thundered loudly.
One can almost be glad that he did not experience what is happening now. It might have been his death.

That was interesting.
A moment ago in an online newspaper I read, "Exercise reduces the desire for fat food."
It was explained that exercise causes a shift in hormonal balance (Good heavens), and therefore your stomach produces "Peptide YY" which decreases appetite.
I read it just after I got off my fitness bike which I sat on for 45 minutes and really biked full gas.
I disagree with the article's conclusion. I'm hungry now, and luckily Matron is right now in the kitchen, and a pleasant smell penetrates in here to me in my small office.
I am going to eat in a little while - and I have a voracious appetite. Would not object if it was burgers or hot dogs with fries.
So much for scientific papers on the influence of exercise on appetite.

One of my many hobbies is going to 70th birthday parties, a good and joyful hobby.
Last night I got the opportunity of practicing precisely the one.
Matron and I set off for an evening that should prove to be a more than an ordinary good night.
The birthday boy is an old dog friend whom, we have known for 36 years and met very often, including his sweet wife.
Well. In spite of the many small and large gatherings we have never had a real opportunity to meet their family. That we got last night, and not unexpectedly, the family was exactly as sweet and kind as the birthday boy and his wife. I enjoyed being with them.
What I - probably not surprisingly - also enjoyed was the food. It was one of the best meals I've had in a long time, cooked by an appropriately imported chef of the good kind.
Maybe he also was involved in the choice of wines - as they were good choices.
In short, I had a glorious and cheerful evening and was tired and oddly enough a little dizzy when Matron tucked me in at 2 a.m.

I play WordFeud. It is quite entertaining. I play against family and friends, and I have a lot of games in progress.
One could, however, indicate that I have chosen my opponents unfortunately.
After lately having won over some of them I am now in a period when everything seems lost. And there is no mercy. Own children beat me without regard to my advancing years. Same does my otherwise so lovable brother. Friends that I really appreciate (ie. "did appreciate") hammer me without any consideration at all.
I have gone into inner excile wondering how I possibly can overcome a crisis of this magnitude.
Consider it. I lose 2 out of 3 games, perhaps even 4 out of 5 not to mention 5 out of 6
Life treats me badly.

I've had fantastic, nearly "blessed" experiences today.
Last night my sweet wife and I went to an excellent lecture in Silkeborg on the poor and the old people's conditions in that town from 1845 to 1950.
It was very interesting, probably also because quite a few of the good lecturer's items were based on my book about Silkeborg Workhouse. It was curious to meet my book in this way.
In any case the lecture inspired me to continue working on my next book about a homeless accommodation in Silkeborg. It is a project that has been at a standstill since sometime in the summer.
I worked very intensely intensely today, for 7 hours. During that I had many good experiences with titles and topics that fell right into place. I was quite "high" from happiness by seeing the texts getting into the right framework. It was almost an "out-of-body experience."
Yes, I've had a wonderful day. Those I would love to have more of.

Either one likes ones bike, or one does not.

I love mine very much, cleans and cares for it as if it were a small child.

Untill now, my shiny clean bike has been standing in my workshop, and in the freezing temperatures we have now I feared that it would feel very cold and that it would cause harm.

I do not like that so I organized its nights in alternative ways.

See picture.

Matron is not quite happy with the arrangement, but has reluctantly accepted.

Only she'd like a quilt over her.

I have nothing against that.

I shall make changes to this system when night temperatures will be around 15 degrees.

One wants to be useful where one can and that particularly if it makes one' sweet wife happy.

I succeeded no fewer than 3 times today.

1) I drove her up to do her shopping in that nasty snow weather. She does not like snow on the roads. That made her happy.

2) I reorganized her many contact numbers on her iPhone, deleted and putting new ones in. This made her very happy.

3) I installed (albeit with great difficulty) an photo program on her computer so that she can see the many pictures she has taken with her iPhone. This made her extremely happy.

I must conclude that today I've scored quite a few plus points.

It was a good day.

I'm lucky, and it is quite nice.

Over the last 5-7 days, one family member after another had to succumb to a nasty flue. Vomiting, stomach upset, nausea, and the entire known repertoire. Allegedly, it was very uncomfortable and required rest and preferably under the blankets, continually interrupted by toilet visits. I witnessed some of these sessions. It went very fast sometimes.

But luckily I didn't have to do it myself and was able to concentrate on my important activities like eating which the disease-ridden were unable to do, poor bastards.

Yes, I've been lucky.

Damn if I'll pick it up tomorrow. But if so, you are going to hear about every little bit of my annoyances. I am an expert in describing my own miseries.

Then it came, this year's first snow storm. And just on the day when Matron had an appointment with her hairdresser's in Lystrup .

Although the sweet lady is a good driver herself she preferred to ask me to do the job which I gladly did. All for Matron.

The journey took us along the motorway north of Aarhus where I asked the sweet lady to record a video through the windshield.

It became a nerve-racking thriller through the snow back to our house. Oscar and many other awards must be waiting for me as a director of his groundbreaking film .

The cameraman was a lady - guess who.

For copyright reasons I can not show the video here, but must be satisfied with a still image which clearly also carries drama. Just look at the big truck and the bridge. Threatening features.

I will download the video on my facebook as soon as possible. But remember to swallow a few sedatives before you start it. There is drama towards the end. Will I make it across for green light or not?

For once, I intend to watch an entire handball match. It does not happen often.

But since it's Denmark in a European Championship final I think I ought to follow the whole game.

It will be interesting if I'm going to see the match live, or whether Matron demands recording it in order to watch it later, provided Denmark won.

She claims that her delicate nerves are too week to watch an exciting game live.

However, there is the possibility that I have to leave the house in the midst of it all. The sweet lady has refused to make dinner in the middle of the game. Then I'll have to go to "Sunset Boulevard" and buy a couple of sensible burgers. That is not bad, however.

Come on Denmark and good luck.

I'll pay the burgers if we win.

Photo shows our great goal keeper, Nicklas Landin.

Today the official end of celebrations of son Peter's exam took place. It marked the closing of his educator training.

At a cozy family get-together in the the morning with brunch, gifts and speeches we celebrated both exam and birthday. Two birds with one stone.

Therefore, we can now safely send this relatively young man out in day care and afterschool programs, where he will know how to use his acquired knowledge.

Fortunately, he has already got a job. An aftreschool place just nearby will be his workplace. He started in earnest yesterday.

He has been lucky and skilled enough to jump the unemployment queue.

So now we parents can again breathe easily. No more exams, no more reports, but a nice, ordinary working day is waiting with all the challenges that are in it.

Lovely. And as you can see he already got the correct "uniform", a purple T-shirt.

Now you are warned - and I am too.
Our diligent traffic police have invested millions in new photo cars which now will lure motorists in speed traps. And it is gpoing to be expensive. The cheapest ticket for less than 20% exceedance costs DKK 1,000
It has long been a bit uncertain how the new cars will look. One has got used to the green and dark red VWs.
After thorough investigations with connections deep inside the secret stronghold of the police I managed to get a picture.
Take a good look at it - and look well on the roadside. when driving.
I will not pay special attention. I have since my last speeding ticket last year strictly complied with speed limits. Hope you at the next picture of me can see my spreading glory above my head.
PS: This guy, son Peter, gets a little attention these days. He will be celebrating 43 years' birthday today. Congratulations, son.

Another day in the seventh heaven.
Son Peter graduated from the Peter Sabroe College and is now an accomplished educator with flying colors.
I was fortunate to be able to take part in the celebration and enjoyed every second of it.
There is something special about a 73-year-old father to come to the graduation of his son. Probably not many experience that. But I did - thankfully.
Unfortunately, the mother (the legendary Matron) could not be there, since she has a job to look after, a job which she is usually very pleased about, but today she could have done without it.
She did, however, manage to com and had a nibble of the cannapees.
It's been a good day.
Peter is in the top right corner - the bald one.

Do you know what is strenuous, and at the same time pleasant?

It is having your arms high above your head in joy.

This is how have I been walking around since yesterday at 12 noon, when son Peter came out from his final exam at his college. I have been so delighted and also relieved. I cannot stop smiling.

Past is walking around with a nervous stomach when he was asked to deliver a crucial paper, and there have been a few. My nervous system is now suddenly much better.

And still.

This coming summer eldest granddaughter will take her A-levels, and the other 2 grandchildren their B-levels .

So do not worry, old boy. There are ample reasons why your nervous system once again will be activated and move up into the red zone.

One time when I went to all sorts of tests and examinations, I looked upon them as nothing and was never nervous. A bit different now.

Today son Peter completed his bachelor successfully and is now a graduated teacher of young children.

It's cool that a 39-year-old starts an education that demands you to read and read, an activity he was not used to.

But it has now been completed with excellent results.

Therefore, I would have loved to display images from this afternoon's preliminary celebration. But alas.

And with this, I can reveal yesterday's little mystery about the use of our conservatory on Saturday.

We shall in earnest celebrate Peter's new education.

A busy day draws to a close.

For some time, our conservatory has served as a box room. Partly, we have stored various furniture for the family and pasrtly we have "unloaded" various items down there while we were changed our utility room and 2 bedrooms.

But now it was enough. During Matron's skilled leadership, I moved around with furniture and miscellaneous items. The place still looks a bomb crater, but there is, after all, now a certain organization in the mess. And we must be finished within the next 2-3 days. We have something to celebrate on Saturday, and the conservatory will be part of the festivities.

No, I am not telling now what it is.

It is difficult to avoid mentioning European Championships in handball these days.

Denmark are successful and retaliated yesterday against Spain - after a huge defeat at the World Cup last year - with a comprehensive win and are now virtually assured a place in the semifinals. Last night's game was obviously a good one, and to my great surprise Matron followed every minute of it. She tends otherwise to put the game on recording and watch it afterwards.

But not this time.

Cause: Denmark was never pressured. It was never exciting. The same has been the case in the previous three matches. Quite unusual for her, 4 games back to back without any recordings.

If this trend continues Denmark will win gold without a single defeat, and the sweet lady will have seen a lot of handball.

Unfortunately this means that I will too.

In order to use accumulated energy I threw myself on my exercise bike and raced 11 kilometers full speed. It gave sweat on my forehead - and many other places. Was it hard? YES.

But I was well entertained. I have recorded a series "In Hannibal's trail" and I watched an episode, while sprinting along.

The series is about three English brothers who on their bikes follow Hannibal's route from southern Spain, through France and into Italy to Rome. And that includes crossing the Pyrenees and the Alps. A total of 3.500 km.

It's a tough trip. But what wasn't it for Hannibal and his 100,000 soldiers and I do not know how many animals, including 38 elephants?

A procession of about 12 kilometers. And they had no paved roads available.

The 3 cyclists climbed Mt. Ventoux, the famous mountain from Le Tour. They did it in spite of heavily loaded bicycles. If only I could do that.

Look out of your window - that is if it is not yet dark. I know what you see. It takes no supernatural abilities.

You see a gray, misty, snow- or rain-filled weather, which does not encourage anything but sitting in in the nice warmth enjoying yoyrself.

My over sweet wife (known as Matron) knows what it takes.

Just home from work, she served me a cup of hot cocoa, which right now is steaming beside me. In addition, a good piece of bread with plum jam, best kind.

This way a wet and dark day becomes something cozy.

Hope you are having a cozy time, too.

PS: Sorry that I still cannot bring the photo from yesterday's diary.

I live with a paparazzi. She can not help but taking pictures of celebrities in unguarded moments.
Last night when I, from very necessary reasons, had to close my eyes for a moment she sneaked up on me and took numerous photos.
Out of the 44 photos I have chosen the one I think was least compromising.
I admit that it is blurred and I look a bit cross .
The unsharpness I blame the photographer. The expression myself.
But I was not sour - just relaxed.
I have to admit, though, that it is a picture from our everyday life.
(Unfortunately stupid JAVA prevents me from showing the photo. Will do it ASAP)

Matron and I each have our elevating bed. It is a pleasure when reading at night to be lifted up in a sitting position - your legs will also go up, very pleasant.

The ride up and down is part of the experience. Press a button and gently you raise or go down. Quite a good feeling - totally under control .

However something spooky happened last niight. Matron was in her sweet dreams at 3 o'clock and suddenly, without warning, the bed began to rise. And you can not accidentally press the button. The movement stopped, and the now almost terrified Matron thought with horror at what or who it might be. All kinds of thoughts ran through her head. It could not be me as was fast asleep by her side. But who then?

The culprit was revealed, however. It was my faithful dog, Sydney who each night innocently sleeps beside Matron's bed. Somehow when turning around he happened to lean against the button, at the side of the bed. And up went the sweet lady. Shortly after everybody slept again - and the bed was down. The mystery of the night was solved.

I had a visit today. A kind technician from my TV and IT supplier came to correct an annoying error on TV. With short and regular intervals the picture flickers (pixellates, I think it is called).

This nice man is not the first one trying to fix the error. In fact, he is the third. And that in just 3-4 weeks. And the error is still there.

Now you must not think that I'm angry and grumpy and cursing because of this situation, not at all. I really have the impression that the company is doing everything that can be done to correct the problem. And everyone I've met or talked to on the phone has been friendly and helpful beyond expectations.

Now the whole system under 24-hour-observation to find the error.

I wonder how far into the house and what they are going to observe.

In a talk recently we happened to mention "the cross legged position" during a conversation about sensible ways of sitting on a normal chair. Many wise words were spoken.

The cross legged position made me curious.

Why did tailors traditionally sit in that position on tables to stitch suits by hand and not stand on the floor to do so?

Ergonomiccally is not at all sensible to sit like that, and certainly not when you consider it might be for 12 hours at the time, the working hours by then.

And why was the tailor always on a table?

I believe I have solved a bit of those essential "mysterires".

By sitting on a table the tailor avoided the fabric being dragged across the floor. At the same time he could sit near a window with a natural light. To sit there with straight legs would have been unbearable. And he could hold the fabric closer to his eyes.

Therefore the cross legged position on a table.

I just tested the position myself. It was neither pretty nor comfortable.

Handball World Cup will start today, in Denmark.
Now I know what my TV time will be spent on for the coming two weeks. HANDBALL.
And it bores me to tears. Unfortunately, this is not the case with Matron, on the contrary. It is her favorite pastime to watch it.
But never mind. I think she is glad that I did not protest wildly against it.
My only consolation is that we almost never see Denmark's games. This is too much for her nerves. That's my sanctuary. Only I have to accept that Matron has recorded the game, which she will watch right away after the game - provided that Denmark won.
It will be hard to get through the coming 2 weeks. I must console myself with the fact that meteorologists have canceled the winter forecast for next week.

I had a shock this morning.
As so often before I took Matron to work early in the morning (yes, even on a Saturday, she goes off) and to my surprise and horror I met a socalled "ghost driver" coming towards me in the wrong lane.
Luckily it was not on the motorway, but on the double-tracked ring road.
The car came driving towards me in the my left lane where it absolutely shouldn't be. It all happened so quickly that I did not even have time to flash my lights at the stupid driver but just swayed off. Whew. That was close. How a motorist could overlook that she/he was in the wrong lane is far beyond me.
I took the same way back to see if there had been an accident. Fortunately that was not the case.
I do not like ghost drivers.

It seems that I suffer from the "nodding disease", a nasty disease, which is obviously age-related.

When you sit comfortably in a good chair or sofa you start nodding. In the beginning it is small nods that you can control. Then they become more frequent and the eyes start to close. You can save the situation by pulling yourself together and straighten up your head. But not much time elapses till the head once more is perpendicular to your body.

This is the mild part of the disease. It does not hurt as long as your head keeps falling forward.

The worst part - and probably the most incurable - is when your head falls backwards.

Then all muscles in your neck completely loose their grip, and with great force "your drop your head backwards." It feels like a loud bang and it hurts. But very quickly you raise your head again - in the hope that no one has seen what happened.

Getting old can be tough.

This day is the dullest for a long time - weather wise that is.

Rarely has a day seemed to be more gray and dreary with rain from morning and ...... yes, till when? Grey in gray. Then, one must be careful that one's mood is not the same.

In order to avoid such calamity, you can surrender to reading either some of Danish Storm P. or also some of likewise Danish Piet Hein.

Storm P: "It's a misconception that you cannot have fun without alcohol, fortunately it's a misconception that rarely occurs."

"To jump and kick your legs and say Jubii is often viewed as a sign of happiness."

Piet Hein: "Remember to love while you dare. Remember to live while you do."

"He who never lives now, never lives at all. What do you do?"

In Danish there's a rhyme to the latter 2.

I am appalled.
A world-wide study shows that Aarhus is the tenth most expensive city in the WORLD in terms of beer prices.
As an avarage we have to pay 33 DKK for a pint. No wonder we may feel "stripped" when we buy a pint at a pub in Aarhus.
And at the football ground prices have gone berserk.
It is a miserable consolation that out of the 9 cities above Aarhus, 4 of them are Norwegian. Norway has always had a "peculiar" relationship with beer. It's even more "peculiar" in the Arab countries. Beer is usually prohibited. The world's most expensive pint of beer you'll find in Tripoli, Libya, 51 DKK in average - if you can find it at all.
Move to China. In Guangzhou the same amount costs DKK 1.90 That's OK.

I had an errand in Hornslet today.

On my way I passed a large farm, obviously a pig farm. Outside one of the well known pig transports stood, a huge truck that loads I do not know how many pigs.

I just gave it a thought that the pigs that were on their way into the truck, would not see the sun rise again. But blissful ignorance helps them one must hope.

But my thoughts about the poor creatures' fate read wasn't lessened by the fact that in large blue letters is said "HEALTH GIVES WELL-BEING" on the side of the truck. A little late for the pigs I thought.

It was a difficult decision. It was a NO. I took it sitting on the edge of my bed.

Background: I was awakened at. 6:30 to take Matron to work and next pick up eldest son at his residence. He and I were going to buy a scooter crash helmet for him.

It was a long drive, since we could not find any that would fit.

At 11 a.m. I was back home with the clear intention of going back to bed. After all I was up in the middle of the night.

I sat on my bed and began taking off my clothes - and then came second thoughts. Should I lie down again and sleep - or not?

I pondered for quite some time and eventually I came to the conclusion that I ought to get up and do the tasks that Matron had ordered me to do. I did so. It was a tough decision.

But according to many a wise one.

I probably cannot keep on hiding it.

I have, for the umpteenth time, started a diet, I who love to eat.

Reason: It has made me a little apprehensive that when I bike, wearing my yellow rain cover and approaching a bus stop the waiting passengers begin finding their bus tickets and coins.

It hurts.

I have not chosen a drastic diet, I shall just try eating less.

It's a tough decision, but probably necessary since I weigh 125+ kilos (just under 20 stone). I hope for success, but from previous attempts, I know that it is when you go on a diet, you realize what lousy loser you are.

Life is not only fun. There are serious moments in between.

I experienced one of them today.

I've been to a funeral. A mere 47-year-old, magnificent, young man, Peter, has died, the son of old and good dog-friends. I have met him on dog trials and shoots through a number of years.

An inalienable loss, hard to grasp for his parents.

The vicar pointed out in her sermon that although we humans know that the only certainty in life is that we must die we still do not understand death - and certainly not when the young die before we older. Should be the other way round.

It was a fine funeral, a good sermon and very beautiful hunting horn music to finish it all.

We honor Peter's memory.

If it's alright with you I will right from the beginning of the new year demand that 2014 will be at least as good as 2013 which I on a scale from 1-10 gave 9.
Maybe I should confine myself to wish it.
My mother taught me that you can not DEMAND anything. "You'll get what you deserve," she always said.
She was, besides being a sweet mother, also of the type who claimed that you can and should make an effort yourself to have a pleasant life.
I shall continually work on that in 2014, and I promise that I shall do it so hard that family and friends will benefit from it as well.
For another of mom's favorite sayings was, "When family and friends are well, I am well"
Clever lady, my mother.
2014 MUST be a good year.

(Picture: Mom, I and Dad 1945 on the river bridge in Silkeborg)

Eldest granddaughter has left her home. Used to Live in Hornslet with mom, dad, brother, dog and budgie.
Wanderlust prevailed, however.
From yesterday she lives quite alone in Aabyhøj, a suburb to Aarhus.
I can not believe our "little" Katrine is now so big that she wants to live on her own. I do not comprehend it. Nearly 20 years old. Is it not too early?
Well. I was 18 when I left my childhood home, and she is more sensible and reasonable than I was.
We are going to visit her very soon.

The world is mad. What is going on?
For the first time in my now 73-year-old life, I mowed my lawn on January 1st.

Yes, you read that rightly: I mowed my lawn.

Since I last mowed it in mid-November, the grass has grown 4-5 centimeters, and then Matron is not pleased because she can not pick up 'dog left overs' in it.
And such a complaint is I can not ignore (ie I dare not ignore).
Therefore, my neighbors today heard the mower's pleasant humming. I'm sure they were wondering whar was going on.
By the way: Welcome in 2014. It will be a good year.

It's inevitable.

It's the last day of 2013.

It is now, things should be settled. Did 2013 bring us what we wanted?

If not, we have to hurry to reach it.

Thanks to all of you for 2013.

As for the "partying" tonight. It may well become a little merry, and that's good.

But do not eat and drink anything that I would not have eaten and drunk.

Well, anyway. It will be hard to find it.

HAPPY NEW YEAR.

Total break down. Everything broke down around us with chances that I too would break down. It was a nervous time for some hours .

It started with a power cut at 2 pm. Everything stopped. Light, refrigerator, freezer, oven, TV etc.

Well, power will come back, I thought. It did - after 20 minutes.

So everything should work now.

But no. Computer, iPhone and TV still did not work, and to make matters worse heating also disappeared - probably independent of the power failure. But anyway.

I called our TV- and IT distributor, waited for half an hour, talked with a helpful man but unfortunately without any initial result. But he would try to send a technician before 7 pm. but probably he wouldn't come till after New Year.

Whew, New Year's Eve without TV, terrible.

And here my break down was imminent.

But let me take you to the happy ending.

20 minutes ago computers and iPhone worked again. 10 minutes later also TV, and we have been promised that DH will be here again in a couple of hours. Happy ending after all.

But what a shock, one can experience, New Year's Eve without TV. My goodness.

It's double celebration today.
Son in law's birthday, and matron and I are having our wedding anniversary, one out of very many. 51 to be accurate.
While our Wedding Anniversary was not celebrated, we went for a lovely brunch with daughter and her husband. I can not get tired of mentioning how much I love brunches. They are very delicious and replace both breakfast and lunch, even for me.
And when they also make it possible for you to see the family, it is top notch.
I ate so much I could for it is important for me to get a proper intake now. Matron is urging me on a diet after New Year. Yes. It will be different times.
All that trouble, just because one looks a bit handsome.

I'm just an awfully Lucky man. I am married to the world's best woman. She takes good care of me and provides good food, clean clothes and is smart in getting the house "shaped up" when it needs. Just think of the 3 rooms we have reestablished this fall. She was the initiator.
But most importantly. She understands me, knows how to help me further when "things" are a bit off .
She had plans for today, plans that were important to her.
But at the same time she also felt that what I needed just today was a bike ride, why she almost "pushed" me out and forgot about her own plans.
And as usual, I felt a lot better when I got home after all the efforts.
It's good to be married to a good woman.

We are rapidly approaching the the New Year , and now is the time to look back at the old year.
Both good and bad memories mingle with each other. Fortunately, I have only few bad memories, but a lot of good ones.
I will not nominate the "best", but one stands strongly in my memory, my bike ride on the old army road from Viborg to Padborg in 5 stages, a total of 297 kilometers.
Not only was the trip splendid with varied landscape and great weather, but I rode with my brother and we got good opportunity to talk about many things, especially for the many historic places we passed.
On the picture it is the old boarder river, Kongeåen (King River) that forms background. Till 1920, our border with Germany.
The ride is absolutely the best I've been on. I very much hope that health and other circumstances offer an opportunity for a similar ride in 2014. Might be central and western Jutland

Just before I this morning set off for the last shoot of the year standing in the door saying the usual tearful goodbye to the sweet Matron she said, "When you come home from the hunt the TV set will stand out on the terrace." Yes, those were exactly her words.
I just had to embrace myself a bit.
Did this mean that a suitcase with my few belongings would stand next to it?
Or were we going to sit out there watching TV tonight? The temperature is after all not so low
Or had the sweet lady plans to rearrange the living room, so there was no room for the TV?
While I more and more frightened went through the scary possibilities it seemed that something occurred to Matron, and laughingly she said, "Oh, no. I meant the Christmas tree."
It was a good hunting day after all.

How does one spend the best Christmas Day after last night's excesses?
I think I've got the solution. Here is in all modesty my day today:
Slept till 10 p.m.
Next breakfast followed by a prolonged visit in my workshop to clean and prepare my bike. It was badly needed.
It's awfully nice to muck around out there cleaning and oiling my bike. It got a major overhaul to make it ready for the last bike ride in 2013 some time between Christmas and New Year - weather permitting.
Then I attacked' my couch, armed with lunch, glorious leftovers from yesterday. Not bad at all.
Then it was time for TV, computer and iPhone, interrupted now and then by a small nap.
And tomorrow I shall be on the last retrieve this year.
Isn't life just wonderful? I think so.

My diary today will contain just one point.
I'm sending all my love to all my readers in the hope that you will have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Thank you for reading my scribbles.
I am extremely pleased with that.
Enjoy the days off, eat and drink as much as you possibly can. Then the dietitian can wait till after New Year.
Merry Christmas to one and all.

In the press today mentions an example of Christmas stress that I have not previously heard of.
Busy supermarkets give police overtime. Many parking lots are crowded and cars are driving around looking for a place to park. This appeares to confuse many car owners so that afterwards they cannot fine their car. They look and look, give up - and think their car is stolen. They call the police who prepare the usual routine on stolen cars for only a little later to be called back by a red-eared car owner who has finally found his car.
Police also report that they now and then - when the owner has failed to report back - get out on the parking lot after opening hours. There may be a single car standing quite on its own which often turns out to be the wanted car.
OK, OK. As long as it's not children who are forgotten.

A dramatic day for me. But also a good one.
The good part first.
In the morning I lacked 52 kilometers in reaching my target of 2,000 kilometers on my bike in 2013. In spite of the strong wind, but after all, in bright sunshine, I decided finishing them off today.
The ride out was tough. It was the toughest headwinds I have experienced in my 10-year cycling career. It hurt in the old thigh muscles.
I was extremely tired but very proud when I finally rolled into our garden here in Studstrup with 54 km. on the clock. Both arms above my head. They will come down in the morning - maybe.

And next the drama.
On my way through a southern suburbur I saw a wrecked bus. It had run across the road and into a private garden. I spoke with a TV cameraman who was filming there. He told that the incident had happened last night and as far as he knew the driver was badly injured. He did not know about the passengers.
One experiences both good and bad when one rides - fortunately mostly good.

Normally I'm a bad motive in a photo. I look nothing like myself, I think.
But today I finally succeeded.
Out of a good and solid Christmas party emerged my Desire to show excited guests the blazer I bought in 1960, ie 53 years ago.
I wanted to demonstrate how well kept it still is - and how well it still fits me.
First point was quickly agreed upon, whereas it cost more persuasion to get the doubters to recognize that it still fits me especially round the waist.
I am not quite sure I got everybody convinced.
But everyone agreed that the blazer was worn by a very handsome guy. Modestly I agreed, and I am sure that my kind readers will agree, too.

I am sleeeepy today, and it has been particularly bad the past few hours, .
Right now I am sitting nodding in front of my computer, and a moment ago I fell completely asleep and dreamed of something with a coach I had to drive from one place to another. It naturallly ended in catastrophy, and I ended up on some narrow roads in a cottage neighborhood without the opportunity of getting out again. Then I woke up and to my knowledge the bus is still caught there between two holiday cottages, one of them with a thatched roof.
However, it is not my coach so I will leave it to the owner to get his coach home.
But now I'm wide awake - for a while.

On my strenuous way out of bed this morning it occurred to me that I had to remember 1) to do the beds, 2) to pour a heavy sack of dog food up in the bucket, 3) to pick up dog shit in the garden and 4) to empty the dishwasher.
Inexplicably only the first point was done. The other three disappeared into the mists of oblivion which immediately was commented on at Matron's return from work.
So I had to interrupt my important work on my computer in order to empty the dishwasher.
But alas. The dog food is still in the bag. I forgot it again. Not good.
And the dog shit remains where it was placed by the dogs. I forgot them again, too.
Not until right now I'm done with the computer work, and I shall make sure that the bag with dog food is emptied within the next 5 minutes and the dog shit is picked up tomorrow.
It must be comforting for everyone to know.

I am a dandy (young) man who follows trends.
On bike rides, I use sports tracker "Endomondo". After each ride it will tell all about it and place all facts on facebook - automatically.
It also has another property. After each kilometer ridden it tells in a pretty loud lady voice how far

I've ridden, how long time I've spent on it, and how long last kilometer took. So I am constantly well informed.
Thus today. Coincidentally I stopped at red light at a busy intersection in Aarhus. Just then the sweet lady, Mrs. Endomondo I call her found it opportune to speak about my latest accomplishments, "21 kilometers in 1 hour, 4 minutes and 23 seconds. Last time 2 minutes , 43 seconds", she said loudly on my iPhone on my bike bag.
A young man beside looked a little confused at my bike, "What the hell. Does your bike speak?" he asked. I had to confess that in a way it did. "Glad, it's not mine", he exclaimed.
He smiled and drove on.

It is an indoor day today. Not just one second have I spent outside in the dark and miserable weather. Why should I?
In here it's warm and cozy, and on the telly Liverpool plays Cardiff. In between I take a small nap, all of it in the best "Cozy-Saturday-style".
In a few hours matron will be dishing up with a good supper. I do not know what it is, but I will no doubt like it.
Next, she is going to watch her daily double series "Heart Beat", I shall check my Facebook.
Later Barnaby is on, mostly to please my better half while I will stick to facebook, send a few emails, read a few online newspapers and the like.
It will probably take a nap or two again.
Anticipation is one of my key competences.