Exploring

We seem to be getting out and about a bit more now that we have a car. There's a stretch of beach about 15 minutes from our house (or 30 minutes, depending on how many wrong turns we take on the way there), that we seem fascinated by for no reason.

It might be because the shop sells fairly decent ice cream or the place next door's over-priced chips are pretty good (note to self: bring own ketchup next time). Generally we just go there for an hour and walk up and down a bit.

The light is nice, and there's something very odd and transient about places like this. I want to visit it in the winter, in the snow, to see if it still exists.

And then, suddenly, we're home -- a few fields, some traffic, and there's Stanley wondering where we go and come back with different smells. I'd like to take him there, really, because I'd like him to know that there is such a thing as the sea.

I think it would really appeal to him. But of course, he might run off and get lost amongst the summerhouses -- though I can imagine him sitting there, on the beach just having a stare at little boats and far islands and thinking "WTF!" in his strange cat-like way.

Apocalyptic Danish Beach

Some photographs taken in the beach near Nymindegab on 2008-08-09. It was very windy, so I took some of the pictures low down to show the erosion shadows behind the pebbles.

Best Piece of Street Furniture Ever

I think it's supposed to be advertising a sausage vendor, but there wasn't actually one nearby.

Easter 08

It snowed, we went to Copenhagen with Martin and Louise, Fritz bit some snowballs.

http://picasaweb.google.dk/fraserlovatt/Easter08

Why I love Denmark:

I was walking to meet Sesame yesterday afternoon and saw this tree by the side of the road:



Is it art? Or was it because there just isn't enough housing for birds at this time of year? There was no explanation, it was just there - because someone thought it would be a good idea. Fantastic.

The Chums of Chance and the Search for the Dictionary

Say what you will about Thomas Pynchon ("Oh dear, here we go again...") but he does perform a valuable service with his propensity to rescue obscure words from, well, obscurity. It's not often I encounter an English word that I've never seen before*, but it only takes seven pages of Against the Day (You can see I'm positively racing through it) before the reader is confronted with the word "absquatulate" - which I'm assuming means something along the lines of abscond.

But I'm guessing here because it's in no dictionary I own.

* Though living in Denmark every day is a veritable fusillade of words that, not only have I not heard before, but I'm not even sure I even heard properly.

Silent Kolding

Sometimes it does feel as if I'm living in a video game (what with jumping on turtles and random treasure chests I find here and there), but Kolding was extra eerie on Saturday morning at 9am, normally when you'd expect some hustle if not bustle.

So this is when the zombie nurses appear, right?

Ah, the chemical spill team must be down there.

Is my radio crackling?

I just hope they left the shops unlocked before everyone fled town.