18-10-2005

Got a terrible cold from moving too far into the autumn. Plugged my ears and nose completely. This after days of the young one coughing, so that’s probably the reason. Bought hot chocolate on the train. Did me good. Preperations for filming on the fifth and sixth are the main priority, there’s work here for a few days. Am hoping to make good on some of that responsibility as we move up state for a few days, revisiting Bo Hedemark’s house in Aarhus. From the nineteenth to the twentysecond, beyond which will pick up Dennis at his parents’ house in Randers, bring him back with us and see to it he fulfills his editorial commitment in the lure of my basement. ~~~ Moving in on the morning commute. Late, as damn near always these days. At half nine the sun’s just coming up – what happened to the Summer-time? V started her new job this other weekend. Saw and responded to an add on the internet, of a stately handicapped woman, respirator-clad, who was in need of aide. Now she’s booked, V, weekends in advance, as well as some mid-week dates. It’s basically doing everything this woman cannot, which is probably a lot. Seems to be a strong-willed, even ego-centric old hag, but by V’s account she’s not giving an unberable hard time and she’s so forgiving, my dear girlfriend. I can grasp her reasoning behind it, V, when she – given her experience in the field – claims to have met several likeminded handicapped people. They become understandably overtly concerned with maintaining a strong front, it’s their dignity at stake. On the practical side of it, I’m happy she’s in a job again, though only part-time it’ll keep her creditors at bay. And it’s good for her selfconscience as well. She seems, by and by, to be doing good. Her self-inflicted therapy – the book she’s writing – offers a further confidence (even new-found, I sometimes can’t help but think). I’m urged to keep track of her efforts, and I must admit to being impressed with it. It’s a very personal tale, wonderfully wrought between two women of their respective issues. A realistic yet adventurous plot offers the kind of change and excitement which keeps yours faithfully reading on. ~~~ The little one acts up, these days, just a bit I’m afraid. She’s dependent on both of us, not likely to see one of us leave without responding in her own fashion. Attempts to distract her uVsually fall out succesful, but at certain trying times there’s no end to the tears and frustration. I harbor the notion she just needs a good cry at intervals, to get rid of pent-up frustration and anger of us not understanding her, despite the progress (grand) she’s making these days. V is not late in letting me in on her sentiments towards said theory. So we differ in opinion, and I’m probably the one in the wrong time time around. Still I have my way, in as much as I’m not the best at redirecting interest with the young one, especially when she’s in hysteria, and that I’ll soon be spending, due to V’s new job, a whole lot of time with her. Which is nice, given no external pressures (filming, i.e.). As Vibeke will work Friday morning to Sunday evening, I’m offered the chance – which I’ll take – at momentarily relocating to the north, where Mum and Dad will await our arrival eagerly. Well, he will, at the least (And her – only just not as spelled out). The progress… She impresses me on a daily basis, never more so than in the linguistic area, sporting new-found words. Her understanding of her World and the mechanisms of it increase with every hour she breathes it in, and I can only hope her appreciation follows suit. The picking-up arrangement works fine, by the way, it’s a treat coming to get her at the day-care center. Fine rapport with those people, incidentally, I guess putting that tree-house in the ground for them deposited well into our good-will account there. ~~~ Cat comes and goes as it pleases. It seems to be spending an increasing amount of time with us, no doubt due to the fact that we’ve begun purchasing cans of designated cat-food in its honor. The blame’s on me, I picked up the first can from the supermarked and that was it. Nowadays it gracefully enters, then it’s chow-time, then not-so-cracefully it’ll jump in the couch or on our bed and, blisfully happy I imagine, sleep for the next twelve hours damn near straight. Then at five in the mornings let out of comlaints of needing to be let out. I tracked it down one nearby morning, after I’d let it out; it proceeded to immediately take a humongous dump on my front lawn. I could be a cat in my next life. ~~~ Days of waiting, anticipating. I want to get this filming over with. I want to have more time to do what I need to do, with the project, the house, all of those books I’ve stored away, the music I’ve never ever listened to. The movies, God the movies. But – first things first. Such is life. Thankfully so. Am hoping for a quiet day.

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