40
So, yesterday I was 40. You kind of forget, in the angst of it, that your mother was probably having a bit of a day of it too. In fact, I'm almost certain my mother remembers more of it than I do, but I forgot to ask.
Ses and I saw the morning run away from us until we were out in the midday meat trucks of Jutland, heading to the grey coast.
We saw some 2000 year old guy, better preserved than me; how would this man have felt, with no concept of foreign nations or money, if he'd known that he would have a museum constructed around him.
And then afterwards we take a low-risk walk around ancient woods and then home via the beach and an improbably good Mexican restaurant in Vejle. It would seem I have eaten
This was all via a very long detour to an amusingly-named town just because we thought we were hilarious.
And then home -- phonecalls and emails, Champagne and some DVDs, Stanley wondering if this good cheer would mean tuna. Which of course it did.
Labels: Blogging, Photographs

