Faster than light

Today was one of those days when you know its good to be alive. It rained, then it shone, then it rained again. Brief heavy showers whilst the sun shone. Mette and I drove out to Tilst to look at dull but practical clothing they used to sell at Bilka, but to no avail. The men's section was both tiny and appeared to be stuck in a time warp. Wasted effort. After this, with Vilde creaking from the back seat, we drove to Trøjborg and ordered a new futon. 12 days delivery alas. We drove home and killed an hour in the best possible manner. Chicken sandwiches for lunch and then I went to pick up Freja who was playing Lego Batman at school. She was reluctant, until she learned that since she is learning to tell the time, we were going to buy her a wrist watch. She chose a pink one with little red hearts on the strap, then we stepped next door to the juice bar. She chose pink again. We collected conkers from the parking lot at Klostertorv and when we passed by the cafe, 'Under Masken' we came across the artist Hans Krull who was sitting with two friends, one of whom was Vigo Sommer. Krull had been painting as he often does outside the cafe, which I believe he owns, and I stopped to look at what he'd done. He has his own particular style which I like. He gave me the painting after having asked me my name so he could dedicate and sign it. They were all drunk, but even sober I doubt he'd remember me. It was almost twenty years since last I spoke with him. He said; "Art should be therapy I believe. Art should be free." His friends agreed with him. The woman told me it was a great honour to be given a genuine Krull. She wished he'd give her one. Krull said he would. I said I was sensible of the honour and I shook his hand. It's kind of an ugly picture but I love it anyway. It is a picture of a man's head and Krull thought I looked like the man in the picture he'd painted. Viggo Sommer was one big smile. he'd aged so much, I hardly recognised him until he spoke and then there was the unmistakble voice. Freja sat on the bike seat and watched with the indifference of childish ignorance. "I might as well give them away because no one can afford them anyway" Krull said. I smiled sadly. It was probably true. I would certainly commission him to paint me some figurative art, preferably big woman, if I was rich, but alas, I'm not and probably never will be. We continued on our way to pick up Magne who was over joyed to see us. When we got home, I showed the painting to Mette. Later I read that scientists at CERN have measured neutrino's moving faster than light. I'm not surprised. This probably explains why there is no unified field theory.

moifling soup

Here is an updated image of me and the children for any one who hasn't see this on FB. This picture was taken about six weeks ago.

Currently...

...things are going pretty good, all aspects of life taken into consideration. We just got back from a short holiday on the Danish west coast with Mette's parents and her brother Kristian Momme (aka Uncle Krigga to the kids). I don't have any photographs as I let Kristian do all the shooting and since we all came home, illness has struck most of us down though not me. Presumably I'll get some photo's from Kristian at some point...

Whilst we are at the coast, I forked out a tidy sum on various entertainments for the kids, and was amazed at how expensive everything seems to have become. The local swimming centre charged as much for Magne (2 years old) as for me. Luckily both Magne and Freja enjoyed the place immeasurably so I guess I should look on the bright side.

The local fauna took a great liking to me too. We were only there for a week, but I managed to rack up four ticks and a double tap to the leg from an irritated carpenter wasp. I'm not sure what the wasp was irritated about as I was dozing on my bed when it stabbed me twice through my trousers for no apparent reason. In my indignation I killed it alas, but I wish I hadn't.

The ticks were no big deal though they can carry disease. Freja attends a 'forest kindergarten' so she was used to ticks, and one of the old hands at the kindergarten once told Mette that he'd probably had a thousand ticks in his time, and never suffered any ill effects at all. Given that ticks can carry Lymes Disease, I'm keeping an eye open during the incubation period, but I'm not too concerned, and I found I was almost indifferent to the idea of having my blood sucked. I thought I'm be slightly squeamish but I wasn't concerned in the least. Mette got one a tick on her back and Magne got one on his throat, but Freja remained untouched, despite the fact that she was running about in the undergrowth more than any of us.

Rght now I'm working on a set of drawings which have to be finished ASAP, but nce thats out of the way, I'm hoping to catch up on various unifinished projects!

Vilde and Magne

Heres for those of you who don't have FB. Vilde at two months old and Magne (care of his uncle) at 3 years and 2 months. So far she's shown a fairly easy going nature, with a willingness to smile and even chuckle if provoked. She sleeps easy enough, and loves loud music, especially techno, Gary Numan or such. Right now she's asleep beside me whilst we listen to The Dead Weather's version of 'Are Friends Electric'.

Magne by comparison is not easy. Indeed, he has a tendency to whine a lot and take offence at the slightest provocation. I put this down to his being a boy as I have been told and I now accept, that young boys are far more likely to act his way, especially if they have an older sister. Having said that though, Magne is a mild mannered boy and quite friendly, even with strangers once he's decided they are not dangerous. He does have a 'warriors streak', and does like to pretend to be shooting people, but this is not his game of choice. He would much rather be playing with the vacum cleaner which he looks upon as his personal preserve (and is capable of generating a most amazing amount of noise if prevented). For some unknown reason, he refers to the vacum cleaner as the 'duck'.

moif world update; Vilde one month old

March was a hectic month, with all manner of things happening. Vilde's birth being the most monumentous (though it already feels like it happened several months ago) and the subsequent rearranging of our home to accomidate the family expansion. I have now been moved into the smaller back room to make way for my progeny, and I've spent the last week trying to settle in. This was made all the more difficult by rapid deterioration in my health (I've been bleeding internally now for about five weeks, thanks to the chronic illness I've suffered from since 1993) and Magne contracting chickenpox, and boy did he get it bad!

I actually don't mind moving as the back room is smaller and more 'hyggeligt'. I'm looking forwards to gaming in here, which I hope will be possible despite the fact that the children sleep much closer to where we'll be sitting than they did before.

One thing is for certain, I've now seen all the boxes with my figures, stacked in one great pile and the amount of money represented is not as overwhelming as a lot of people I know from the internet, but its quite an eye opener to me, not least since its about five years since I bothered to take stock and count them all.

Day three and Vilde (pronounced Vil-da) has settled into the standard eat-shit-sleep routine of all babies but shows some interest in her surroundings. Magne has shown very little signs of jealousy and Freja is still at her grandparents. The best news is, since Vilde was born, the sun has been shining strongly. At last!

Magne's second birthday

Hard to believe he has a little sister due in just two weeks time!

moif world update

The last week has been one long slog against the unrelenting trauma of a little boy who refuses to sleep, but who screams hysterically instead. Poor little Magne is going through some kind of seperation angst phase and becomes very agitated when ever Mette isn't directly at hand so he can crawl up into her lap. Once his little sister arrives, he is going to find next year very hard I think, but possibly it will do him good in the long run. One can hope. One thing is for sure, its wearing my patience down and my surplus energy levels are at their absolute minimum. Just about the only thing which doesn't seem impossible these days is painting miniatures. I think this is because painting miniatures doesn't require any great mental or creative effort. One simply applies the colour, slowly and methodically.

Just to spice things up however, one of the kids has brought back colonic worms, so now we're all on medication to flush out these annoying little parasites. One wonders what sort of folk remedy horrors people had to endure in the days before alco-gel and little white pills?

Cheer up. It could be raining...

Looking west along Nørregade

These pictures were taken last night, being the early morning of 2nd Dec. 2010. As you can see, Denmark is in the grip of winter again, and as in previous years, we seem to be getting one of those white Christmas's which we were led to believe would never again happen. Global warming or just global clueless? You can't see it in the photographs because they were taken with a long exposure time (about 2 seconds) but the air was full of big fat snow flakes.

Looking south along Gammel Munkegade

I had assumed that the snow would stop traffic again as it did a few days ago, but it didn't. We resolved to drive out to Freja's kindergarten (which is situated in Moesgaard forest) but alas, the car wouldn't start so we decided to take a taxi out there and drive back on the Kindergarten's own bus...

But first we had to pick up Magne at his day care centre which is situated in the middle of Aarhus, about three blocks from home. Mette called in good time to arrange a rendezvous with a taxi with a seat for a small child (timed for 14:50) and off we plodded through the snow.

I was well packed in, but the wind chill between the buildings was wicked and it seemed like the bad luck which had crippled the car was still stalking us. We reached the day care centre and picked up Magne who was a bit whiny, then positioned ourselves to await the arrival of the taxi, and waited... after fifteen minutes, with the cold biting at his face, Magne crapped out and started screaming. I can't really blame him, his nose had started running and once he started crying as well, his face was covered in slimy liquid which with the wind chill must have felt very painful. We wiped his face, and tried to cheer him up, but to no avail. Standing in the middle of the city with a howling child was not fun, and as we'd decided to take a taxi, we hadn't brought a pram or stroller. It became obvious that Magne wasn't going to make it and we decided to split up. I carried Magne home in my arms (he screamed all the way, much to other people's merriment) and Mette stayed to wait for the taxi...

Magne and I made it home and relaxed with bread rolls, milk and You Tube. Magne cheering up once we starting watching funny animal antics and Pocoyo. Mette however was left standing in the cold waiting for a taxi which finally arrived at 15:20. It took a further 15 minutes to reach the xmas party, by which time, all the coffee, gløg (a sort of Danish xmas wine) and food was gone, and poor little Freja was in a pitiful state, believing herself to have been forgotten. Since she has spent the last few weeks practicing a song she was to sing for the occasion, it was particularly hard for her to think she'd been abandoned. Mette told me, Freja was beside herself with happiness when she saw her freezing mother finally trudge up the hill to reach the kindergarten. (Poor pregant Mette). I wasn't too happy about it either as I'd looked forward to seeing Freja sing the traditional 'Sankte Lucier' song. Not sure how its spelled, but its a song which kids sing at xmas whilst holding candles.

We all ended up safe and warm at the end of the day, though we found Freja's feet were soaking wet and freezing cold when she took her boots off. I fixed this by wrapping us both up in a duvet on the sofa with her feet pressed against my legs so she could heat up. We watched 'Emil from Lønneberg' whilst Magne walked about with a pirate pistol and made funny shooting noises.

If you don't know 'Emil from Lønneberg', it is a Swedish children's story by Astrid Lindgren (the grand old lady of Swedish children's literature), and was televised back in the early 1970's. As hero children go, you can't get much better than Emil!

Every one's gone to bed now, and I've just finished the write up from yesterdays Takshendal game. We've switched gaming evenings to Wednesdays as Thursday has become untenable for the foreseeable future. Tomorrow is another day, and now its time for a last track from the Balkans and then off to bed...

Hirtshals 2010

This years vacation was a week in Northern Jutland, near a town called Hirtshals and as such was pretty much a replay of last years vacation, except this year we had a bigger house, better weather and the World Cup to keep us occupied when we weren't floundering in the sea or tramping about looking for interesting stuff.

The children were also older and better able to enjoy themselves of course and Freja in particular was capable of entertaining herself. Magne still requires constant attention, which he demonstrated amply by taking a dump on the veranda and playing with it before any one noticed what he was doing. Thankfully he didn't start eating it as I seem to recall other children doing in the distant past of my childhood (not me).


The thing about Northern Jutland's beaches, those along the North Sea at any rate, is the uniformity. The sea is big, the sky is bigger, the sand dunes go on forever and if your curious you can search out hundreds of German bunkers from the war. I haven't really seen any bunkers up close as yet, and this is my third time on the west coast, but I'm just lucky I guess, or unlucky if bunkers are your kind of thing.

On the west coast, what you do get a lot of, is flags. Danes love to fly the flag and they rise and fall with the sun. Day in. Day out. I always like to see our flag flying, as its a very photogenic flag especially against a deep blue sky or verdant green landscape. Northern Jutland isn't quite as verdant as Århus (which is on the east coast) but the effect is equally as heart warming.


We were five adults and two kids, Mette and I, Mette's parents, her brother, and Freja and Magne. Every day was spent in lazy disregard for the time and dinner was a matter of long consultation and preparation. I've never seen any one take so long to debate dinner as Mette's family does! I think its a means of bonding which I've never really learned. I prefer to isolate myself with headphones when I'm making food. I usually listen to something with a bit of 'fut' in it; Goldfrapp maybe, or BT.


It was fun watching the World Cup* with Mette's Dad and brother. Each day offered two games and some were real corkers. I was rooting for Germany when they played, as I usually do once Denmark has been knocked out, and they didn't let me down. I also cheered on the USA when they played. I didn't cheer on England, even though I'm half English, because the hysterical English attitude annoyed me. I felt sorry for the English team when their own fans were booing them after having set them on so high and impossible a pedestal.

* I refuse to refer to it as FIFA World Cup because I don't know who the hell gave FIFA the right to own an international sports tournament. As far as I can see FIFA, like most other international sports organisations is both corrupt and inept.



I didn't go in the water much. It wasn't warm and I am a wimp when it comes to cold water. Especially when there are red jelly fish about! I prefered to spend most of my time on the beach playing with Magne or looking for buried treasure in the sand. The only thing I found of interest this year however was a curiously pitted shell.


This was Magne's first time on a beach, as a human being capable of walking about and playing games and he enjoyed himself big time. There was a large shallow area between the beach and the sea where a sand bank had formed and the kids were able to play in the warmer water there. It was open to the sea at one end so the water wasn't stagnent.

Mette's father and I both built sand castles for Magne to destroy, but since he was half naked at the time, I won't post those images as they probably constitute a breach of Bloggers roles and regs.


In Hirtshals itself, we visited the North Sea Centre which boasts the largest indoor aquarium in Denmark, or Jutland, or Nothern Europe... or summat. They had sharks, and sun fish and rays and outdoors they had seals which we saw being fed. The seagulls had long since learned that a congregation of humans around the seal pool meant feeding and they stole about a third of the fishes thrown to the seals, sometimes plucking them from the water directly in front of the seals noses.

Freja is always impatient in such places, always rushing to see the next thing and it gets wearisome always telling her to slow down, or come back, or stop fiddling with that fossil! I have to keep reminding myself that she's only five (or at least she will be on Aug13) and kids that age have ants in their pants.


After the holiday we returned to Ålborg to attend a birthday party for Mette's cousin and Magne went exploring in his grandmothers garden which is like a small jungle filled with exotic plants and colourful flowers.

It was a good little vacation though strenuous at times. Its hard to relax when your always aware that you have two small children running around and your not sure where they are. I was looking forward to this second week of my vacation when they'd both be in kindergarten again, and I could undwind a bit, but instead I spent the last seven days in the hospital waiting for my Dad to wake up.

It was yet another brutal reminder of the transcience of life.

Freja and Magne; the old town

On May 2nd, we took the kids over to see the Old Town. They don't give a toss about the old buildings, but there was an open event with old fashioned stuff for kids to see, not least volunteers in period costume and a play area with the sorts of enterainments children had over a hundred years ago. Over the course of the week end, there had been various events staged, but by the time we got there on Sunday afternoon, most everything was over, so we found the streets half empty, though there was still plenty to look at. Both the kids enjoyed the play area and Freja was over joyed to get a big red and white striped lollipop. It was so big it lasted her three days. I didn't have my camera with me, so I took these pictures with my phone.

The Old Town of Aarhus is one of the biggest museums in Denmark, and with its central location, quite easy to reach (its about 1km from we we live). Mette is currently working there as a seamstress and so we had gratis entry. I've been many times, not least because I find a lot of inspiration for my models from the buildings.

Magne Sejr. One year old today

Theres not much to say except that both of us have been sick all day, apparently witht he same thing; sore throat, running nose, sinus inflamation, chest pain, muscle pain, head ache and a general disinterest in worldly affairs.

Magne has taken it lightly though. Having a copiously snotty nose doesn't trouble him in the slightest and he's been padding about the apartment causing mayhem as usual. As you can see, he now stands short and proud and is capable of walking short distances. He has begun to respond to words also, and last night, after two hours of frustrated singing, crooning and cajoling, he finally went to sleep after I'd simply told him to.

Today was also Fastelavn at Freja's kindergarten so she wore a princess costume that Mette had made for her (it was specifically tailored to fit over Freja's out door clothing).

One year later

On Monday Magne will be one year old and its hard to believe that its only been a year. It seems like he was with us forever. When I look back over this blog, I am amazed at all the things we did in recent times before he was born. A year is such a short time now, but for him, its everything he has ever known. Such is life. Today I bought new socks, tonight I ponder upon existentialism (I say tonight, its actually 2:30 in the morning and I'm wide awake).

A year ago there was no Magne, except that there was.

Every day is a treasure. Every time you open your eyes, you look upon vast beauty. Every grey sky is a cornucopia of pleasures if only you care to see them. To look however, is not to see. Seeing is the hardest thing of all, the prime skill of a good artist. Sometimes I can see, but most of the time I'm distracted, I guess I'll never be a good artist, just an illustrator. That's okay, so few really are.

Every day I go to work now, each time I move amongst people who have worked for years, and I see them in a different way. Not because working by itself has brought on some kind of clarity, but because as familiarity breeds contempt, it also breeds comprehension. Growing old is invisible, except when you see it on the people around you. Standing in a line in a posh super market (buying expensive meats and cheese for the people we expect to visit to celebrate Magne's birthday) I saw a woman, maybe five years older than me, buying two bottles of red wine. She was worn, even haggard, under make up and fur; damaged by life and alcohol. I've started to notice a lot of people like her, people close in age to myself, yet seemingly far older. I feel so much younger, then maybe that's because we had our children later in life, though it never seemed so late when I was 35, even though I knew it was.

Now, I wake up in the morning and realise, in ten years I'll be fifty! As if ten years is but the blink of an eye, but which it is, when your at the aft end of a decade. Its like it hardly happened. A year of paradise passes you by like an urban bus, gritty and grey and plastered with futile advertisements (I really hate advertising; so ultimately futile). Don't let life pass you by they say. Savour every day. That's not always easy, especially if your not used to actually seeing what your looking at.

Halloween, 2009

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!

Halloween isn't really a big deal in my experience, but this year, with Freja's kindergarten celebrating it, we bought a couple of pumpkins on the way out to my Dad's and I cut my first Jack-o-lantern. We met up with (my youngest brother) Philip, who gave me his old digital camera, having acquired a shiny new one with additional bells and whistles, and together we spent a reasonably enjoyable day, inspecting my Fathers fairly successful attempts at setting the old house into order, moving a mechanical piano and engaging in arguments.

The Goon Squad

In my family, any occiasion has traditionally meant a debate, bordering on an argument, and once in a while, objects being tossed about. Its not so much physical violence, as too much testosterone, with my Dad doing his best Uncle Joe routine when ever more than one of his sons is present and needing to be put in place. Naturally none of these dog fights are about anything remotely important but this doesn't prevent every one giving their all, whilst any female members of the family who happen to be in the blast radius shake their heads in resignation and contemplate cheap flights to warmer climates.

Though I say it myself, I think my pumpkin came out rather well.
Mette took the pictures which is why there several of me and none of her.

Magnezilla & Flicka, hair not included

Its life Jim, but not as we know it!

Freja and Magne were not too happy about the day. Both of them got really cranky, especially Magne who's been ill and 'distempered' of late, but Freja did enjoy the pumpkins, which is weird as to me they are still an American cultural oddity. Actually Jack-o-lanterns appear to have originated from Ireland so there's my cultural ignorance and preconceptions showing me up.

Currently I am well and truly p'd off though so I will beg leave to be slightly grumpy. Most of my life is going really well, but since I started making some fairly decent money, I've had nothing but huge bills from social services demanding I repay obscene amounts of moneys received over the course of the last year. Perusing these letters reveals some unusual numbers to say the least. Some one some where is operating under the false pretence that I have made about three times as much as I have, which wouldn't be much of a problem, if it wasn't for the fact that the Danish social servies are entrenched by miles of telephone answering machines, vacant offices (he's on a course and won't be back for three weeks) and just plain old fashioned misdirection. In the mean time I have eight days to lodge a complaint or the matter will be considered closed. Four days have now passed and all attempts to lodge such a complain have been met with better defences than the 8th airforce faced over Berlin. Tomorrow and Friday are my last chance to avoid paying back as much money as I've received in my wages for the next two months as no way will any one be in an official office over the week end. In fact even friday is highly dubious. If I have to, I'm going to start lobing bricks through windows tomorrow so if I suddenly stop blogging in the next few weeks, its probably because I've been arrested for stating an opinion.
Rant over.
Happy thoughts.
I get paid on friday again and I intend to buy some more figures, though the last lot, ordered a month ago from BTD still haven't materialised yet...


...in the mean time, I am prepping RM6 (warning, its all wargaming babble from here), but I still have a lot of painting and assembly to do. Ever since Trace decided to rejoin Rocketman, I've been juggling my initial set up trying to make it all work. Previously the game was structured around a 3 vs 2 imbalance, with Goeg and Rasmus playing support units to Oleg's heavy tank main Bolshevik force. Facing them would be Palle and I with our Vickers Mk II's and Mk VI's and British infantry support.

Changing the games to 3 v 3 without additional armour is difficult, so now, Palle and I will be playing reduced forces (we both give an armoured Rolls Royce to Goeg who plays Rocketman and Afghan allies). This is a bit risky as Goeg is still a noob, but I can't see how else the game would work. Tracey can take Goeg's oroginal group (Olga and her Uigher bandits) and what we end up with is an equilibrium of sorts

Palle = Lt Col Sir John Napier, 1st Tank Company & British Inf Company. (2 Vickers Mk II medium tank's & 1 Mk VI light tank)
Jan = 2nd Lt Algernon ’Lefty’ Leftbridge , 2nd tank company & Sikh Rifle Company. (2 Vickers Mk II medium tank's & 1 Mk VI light tank)
Goeg = Rocketman and ’Afghan contingent’ (2 Rolls Royce armoured cars and one Vickers Mk VI light tank)

Oleg = Main Black Guard command with heavy tanks and infantry support
Rasmus = Uzbeck Bolshevik support group with light armour, anti armour guns and infantry support.
Tracey = Olga & Uigur bandits with 'technical'

I anticipate mass slaughter

Since I now have a working digital camera again, I'll be posting some more posts regarding models and figures soon.

Any way, time for some atmospheric gaming music...

The Snoos and the Spud

Both the kids are coming along in leaps and bounds. Magne is able to crawl, though mostly he drags himself along, and he is able to sit up by himself too, though he often falls over backwards and knocks his head. He also pukes, a lot, and often on me. I've never seen any one puke as much as he does but I'm assured its nothing to worry about...

Freja has not had an easy time coping with a younger sibling, but she treats Magne well and will often try to comfort him when he cries.

Below is the Snoos's current favourite song. She loves to whisper the first bit with her hands over her ears. I have to say, it suits her 'zerstören personality' quite well too. People tell me little boys are more boisterous than little girls, if thats true in this case, then I'm in for a rough ride! Freja breaks everything she comes into contact with. I've had to use my phone to take these pictures as Freja did destroy the camera after all. I thought maybe I could fix it again, but alas not.

At least her hair has grown back

The Rainforest...

Deep in the primordial forests of the mind

...where ancient civilisations lie forgotten...

...and the dragons wait to devour young adventurers

Randers is a small Danish city about half an hours drive to the north of Aarhus. Its a bit of a dump, but it does have one redeeming feature; it is the home of Randers Regnskov, and on Wednesday, we packed the kids into my Dad's car and we all drove north. I have never been to the 'Rainforest' before, so the first surprise was the size. It was much bigger than I had imagined. I'd seen it from the train when travelling to and from Aalborg (a city in the north where Mette's parents reside) and it had always seemed some what cramped. When we arrived however, and saw the domes up close (there is a third dome now, even bigger than the two originals which I knew of) I realised that the whole place was significantly bigger than I'd imagined.

The second surprise was that it was significantly more expensive than I'd imagined, though to be fair, it does have a lot to offer and had I been aware of it I could have had the tickets stamped and laminated which would have made them good for the rest of the year.

I may go back alone with a sketch book one day when the holiday season thins out the mob.

20kr for a 500ml bottle of water though is day light robbery.

The third suprise was the lay-out. I'd expected something less labyrinthine, and more zoo like, and whilst some of the animal enclosures were a tad small for my liking, lethargic animals compounding the impression, for the most part it seemed almost authentic, in a staged, Indiana Jones film-set sort of way. Having never been in a real rainforest (Italy is the closest I've been to that kind of climate and Italy is nothing like tropical, or even sub tropical) the humidity also seemed appropriate. I was certainly sweating like a sick dog within ten minutes of entering the South American dome.

Look at the size of that crocodile!

Freja was like a pinball on acid, bouncing about like crazy, constantly running off and completely disinterested in staying close by the rest of us. I spent about two thirds of my time pushing my way through hordes of shuffling families, like Bruce Cambell in a crowd of zombies trying to find her.

Part of the problem was, Freja has been quite ill of late. Early on Tuesday morning, her throat swelled up during the night and she awoke just after midnight coughing with a noise like a rutting seal. Some what alarmed, Mette and I watched in consternation as, within the sapce of two minues, Freja went from coughing, to choking, to unable to breath. Thankfully we live in a city with an excellent emergency service and within five minutes there was a doctor and three medics in the room, Freja had a face mask on and was inhaling some form of gas that counteracted the swelling. After this, Freja and I spent the rest of the night in Skejby hospital, in the childrens ward whilst she was under observation. She was released the next day and Mette and Magne came to take her home. Having not slept much during the night, I then passed out and spent the rest of Tuesday getting over the shock.

A some what appropriate sign

By Wednesday Freja was better, but still cranky. She lasted until about two thirds of the way through the Rainforest, but when we reached the Asian dome, she'd had enough and started kicking up a fuss, collapsing on the floor and whining mightily. I picked her up and sat her on my shoulders (no mean feat as now she weighs twenty kilo's and I'm not very strong any more). The Snoos rewarded my generosity by slapping off my glasses and breaking both lenses.

Thankfully I am insured against just such an eventuality

Leaf cutter ants, busy cutting leaves

The Rainforest is a great place, and we shall visit it again when Magne is old enough to actually participate in the adventures. Next time however, we shall visit during a week day, and not in the industrial holiday season. The place was packed. According to local internet news, the Rainforest is due to be enlarged again with a fourth, super dome making it the largest indoor zoological garden in the world.

There were many interesting animals, but most of the time, they were either hiding, alseep, or obscured by the mob. We saw, a manatee, lots of huge fish, some small sharks, sea snakes, piranha's, catfish, several varieties of ape, flying dogs, wild dogs, wild pigs, some crocodiles, one of which was quite big (circa 1½m), lots of colourful birds, including a macaw and something that resembled a big brown peacock with attitude. There were hundreds of moths, butterflies, spiders and millions of ants, in several sizes and shades. We also saw snakes, giant snails, some kind of giant rat that gave me the evil eye, a family of porcupines, a tribe of large tortoises, a curiously flat turtle and lots of iguana's lazing about the place.

A handsome, dynamic young fellow, and his son

Afterwards we drove back to my Dad's place to pick berries from his garden, and inspect the renovations he is doing on his house. Its odd to see the place looking so empty and sparse, and sad in a way. When my Mother was alive they were always talking about renovating the house, and it seems strange that this is only happening now Understandable though given my Mothers propensity for hording things. I'm looking forward to seeing how the rebuilding eventually turns out.

Inside the South American dome.

No sign of any revolutionaries, just tossers with Che T shirts