Very fruity

I grew up in a house with a nice garden by a lake. When I say by a lake, it's mean in that real estate agent kind of way. Because the lake was 3 rows of houses down, and past a fairly busy road. Yet we had a nice view of the lake as the house was on a (very) small hill. I didn't really appreciate the view back then, as I was either in my room colouring, playing Civilization (or Giana Sisters or Oil Imperium) or perhaps sitting outside on the balcony steps playing with our dog.

My parents did all they could, but I did find the entire collection of Abba on vinyl that they had hidden away along with Cliff Richard. Cliff wasn't really my thing though (except for that one Christmas song..)



We didn't just have fruity things in the house. Our garden was filled with black currant, redcurrant, strawberries, raspberries, apples, pears and gooseberries.



There were also melons, although they weren't for eating.



We haven't scaled down on the fruit since, as you can well imagine. I like fruit, I eat way too little of it, and I believe it's way too expensive. That is, if you want fresh fruit. You know, proper fresh fruit. The kind that looks great and doesn't taste waxy and artificial.

So today, as I was all out of ice cream and it was too hot to go anywhere or do anything, I pondered if I should go for ice cream. It was quite the debate in my head really. Yet, I ended up getting dressed properly, and ventured out into the sweltering heat. Sun baking us all, and it was quite a journey. The shop was nice and cool, and of course they'd been practically sold out on ice cream. I also managed to look in the fruit section if they had anything worth buying.

The raspberries looked great, so I stood there inspecting every pack of them. Obviously. As I did so, a woman and her daughter (I can only assume (I know, some stupid American phrase, something about a donkey)) came up to me looking at mangos. The daughter stood there staring, rather rudely I daresay, at me and then turns to her mother asking why I was inspecting the raspberries. Of course, I could have just answered myself, but the mother told her rather flat out "so the gentleman can get the packet with the least worms and rotting berries". Right. She was correct of course, but it almost put me off buying them if it wasn't because the packet I was holding hadn't looked so perfect.

When I got home I checked the packet again and the raspberries were perfect. They also tasted like every bit of summery goodness that I remember. Still, you don't get much eh? Why must the good fruits and berries cost so much?



Now, how about a raspberry margarita?

Word is out

When I was about 12 I had very few friends, so my days after school would be mostly doing my homework, playing in my room or taking our dog for walks around the neighbourhood. OK, so I walked the dog every day after school and again on weekends. I, mostly, did what I was told. Emptied the dishwasher and such when I was told to, but walking the dog wasn't my task.

The thing is, I grew up close to a lake with a big forest around it. It was very idyllic.

Dividing the lake and the area where I grew up was a big road. Connected to the big road was a little truckstop which had one of those disgusting public restrooms and a little area with hedges and tables. On weekends in the summer it would be packed with families who had driven to the lake to swim and spend the day at the two beaches. At any other time of the year the truckstop would be almost abandoned.

I remember one time when I was around 8 or 9 years old and I had gone with our neighbours daughter to the lake to catch fish for their pond. As I'd had a massive arguement with my mother just minutes before, I'd gone against her will. Well, we went to the lake and started catching some zebra striped fish and suddenly the high heavens opened up, and within seconds we were drenched. As the thunder and lightning began, we retreated to the disgusting restroom at the truckstop. The girl told me stories of how these truckers would come and look for 'company' there whenever they drove by. I was shocked. I had never heard of anything like that before. A few years later it was confirmed when my evil brother told me the same thing.

I was intrigued and that's when I started walking the family dog. What my parents didn't know was that I never made it to the forest. I'd go to the truckstop and I'd tie up the dog to a tree and go into the disgusting restroom. Inside there were scribbles on the walls of the stalls and sometimes the light bulb would be broken. It was a strange feeling I'd get when I was in there.

Over the next couple of years, I'd go there at different times. In the evening, at night, at noon, and in the afternoon, but I never ever saw anyone in there. Ever. To be honest, I don't know what I would have done if there would have been someone there because I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for. Yet I wanted whatever it was.

The disappointment was devastating but now, looking back I'm happy that nobody ever came. Those things can really screw up a boys life, and my life was, and is screwed up enough already. But back then I..... I guess I was just looking for company and validation, something I wasn't getting anywhere else and I ended up settling for myself. So I started using my permanent markers writing something else on paper rather than stall doors.

Christmas at the Cranks

In Denmark we celebrate Christmas on the 24th, on Christmas Eve and they have duck, pork loin with crackling, goose or turkey. We count down from Dec. 1st until the 24th. The 24th and the following two days are all national holidays. Not everything is closed though. It used to be that way but money talks and some people don't mind working at Christmas.

Our family has a very specific tradition when it comes to all things Christmas. The first weekend before December 1st my mother will decorate the house. The trees arrive and are decorated. We used to have a tree in the hall with lights and everything - the kids tree. My brother and I were in charge of decorating that one. The adults tree was decorated with lights and placed outside until December 23rd. My brothers also made Christmas hearts in colourful paper and these were collected and hung on a silver string over the massive windows in the living room. Everything had its place. The embroided advent calendar my mother made when she was expecting my oldest brother was hung by the fireplace. It has Disney characters on it.

On the advent calendar my mother hung 24 individual bags for my brother and I. The ones for Sundays were larger than the rest but the 24th was the biggest. We would look at those from day 1 until Christmas but we never touched them until the day. My mother always said she'd be able to tell if we did and would take the calendar away. In each bag was a little something, a tiny plastic toy or some kind of candy. It was such a lovely tradition.

The 23rd was special. My dad would arrive home late from work because he had to close down the bank branch and they were open late. So my mother would make a sort of rice porridge for dinner and we'd have sweet light Christmas beer for it. On top of the porrige we'd put a small lump of butter and put sugar and cinnamon on it too. In it would also be an almond and the one who got the almond got a small present. It could be anything from a bit of chocolate or a game that we'd play after dinner.

Before us kids went to bed, we put out rice porridge and Christmas beer for Santa (Julemanden in Danish). Then after we've gone off to bed my parents would decorate the adults tree with all these gorgeous Christmas decorations from my mothers mother and her mothers. We weren't allowed to see it until the morning of the 24th. After they were done they'd have smoked salmon before going to bed.

On the morning of the 24th I remember waking up before 9 and running into the living room to see the tree. Then getting the last bag of the advent calendar and check the fireplace to see if Santa had left something for me. Of course he had, and he'd also eaten a bit of the stale porridge. Bless. After checking the presents I would turn on the TV and watch a Christmas show called "While we wait" (Imens vi venter) which consisted of small Christmas cartoons and studio stuff with Christmas stuff galore.

Then my parents would get up and we'd sit down for breakfast until us kids were told to go tidy up our rooms. Then my mother would start preparing dinner as my father would start hoovering and cleaning the guest bathroom. After we were done with our chores, I'd sit down and watch the Christmas show again and my father would be sent out to get more cream. Why we never had cream on Christmas Eve I'll never know. Maybe my mother just wanted him out of the house so she could sneak a glass of wine.

At 4pm on the dot my drunken aunt would arrive and that was the time as the Disney Christmas show would start. We'd all (excluding my mother who was now having a meltdown in the kitchen) sit down and watch the Disney show. When that was done we (all except my drunken aunt and my brother) would rush off to church but would always end up standing up in the back of the packed church. At 6pm we'd sneak out and go finish preparing dinner.

At 7pm on the dot, dinner would be on the table. Dinner was always pork loin with crackling, roasted duck, red cabbage, potatoes, sauce, potatoes coated in caramel and crisps. For dessert we'd have rice porridge but this time with whipped cream and chopped almonds in it. There would also be one whole almond in it and the one who gets it wins a present. The present was always brought by my drunken aunt.

After dinner we would lay all the presents under the tree and leave the room. My mother would then light the candles on the tree. Then we'd all go back into the living room and oooh and aaah at how pretty it was. The humiliating part was next, and we would walk around the tree singing Christmas carols.

Five minutes later everyone was sick and tired of that and we would sit down and one of us would find presents for the other and we'd open them. After the presents were opened and everyone had thanked each other we would have coffee (some of them irish), hot chocolate, chocolates and biscuits. Then my aunt would leave and we'd all go to sleep.

On the 25th we had the family over for lunch and the same on the 26th. So much food and drinks. The kids playing with their presents or out in the snow in the garden.

This year is very different. As I type this my parents are on their way over to my place to celebrate Christmas. The first time in more than 40 years where my mother hasn't hosted. I have been baking, cleaning and shopping like a maniac and I've also been decorating for Christmas. It's been very busy at Sayhey and the next few days I probably won't be around so much.

All the traditions are out, and I'm starting new ones. I have been scaring my mother by telling her this is going to be a theme Christmas. Christmas under the palmes. Lots of coconut, seafood, colourful twinkle lights and Malibu rum. Still she hasn't cancelled. Bless. Then again she'll just have more ammunition to use against me some other time. Or this time.

Merry Christmas!

I'll show you mine, if you show me yours

I have always been facinated by movies and television. When I was a mere kitten playing around in the rejects of my mothers wardrobes she took me to watch Disney Classics at the movies. It started when I was very young so I suppose I must have been one of those brats I hate so much today. When I started making money of my own I also started going to the movies with friends and subsequently met a guy who is my best friend today. He was also very much into movies and that's when I started buying them when they came out. Back then it was VHS tapes, shoddy quality, almost as bad as when you record a movie from TV today IDV.

As time goes by, things become outdated and you must move on unless you want to live in the past. So I started buying DVDs and when one I had on VHS was heaviely discounted I would buy it and give the VHS tape to someone who would appreciate it. I still have a few VHS tapes that I haven't been able to find on DVD but they are packed away in a box somewhere back home at my parents house.

Well, enough back story. I harassed IDV about showing the contents of his DVD racks and he did. Since we all know the saying "I'll show you mine if you show me yours" I've decided to show you mine too. So I give you, the contents of my DVD racks.



And now we zoom in for a closer look




Well you may not recognise a lot of them as they have a tendency to translate the titles into Danish here. Some of the Danish titles don't even make sense. I have about 5 Danish movies, the rest are in fact foreign.

Now it's your turn to do it.