October 12th, 2015.

Something about the morning commute – probably the scenic morning dawn – reminded me of that scanning-job I did in Aalborg, with Mads, scanning a buttload of archives for the university there. One of things you know you’ll never forget, but kind of hope you will. Glad that one’s over. Glad the scanning company is over.

Hard to get up – woke up late, didn’t go back to sleep right away. Read some survey that claimed 20% of us have trouble sleeping 2 or more nights a week. For me it’s in certain periods, but keeping myself active sure helps a lot. Was, I felt, active during the weekend, so that’s probably why my body felt I needed more sleep than I was able to allow it. Prepared the scene for the electrician who’ll arrive tuesday and move the power-box. So, some hard concrete drilling was called for.

Should mention my fine Saturday with Nicolas. As V took K to the movies we had some hours to kill – played LEGOs, played the Xbox, did some art-work, baked cookies, jumped on the trampoline. Good times.

Thor stopped by – good, great even, to see him again. He’s still in a relationship with this girl, and in some ways I think he finds it terribly difficult. Giving more of his money away to the relationship than he’d like, for one thing. Living in another one’s mess, for another. Sounds like he’s managed to integrate himself well enough. In due time his ‘singles concerns’ will fade. I know mine did. Boy, did they ever.

I remember when as a child I was roaming dad’s work shop with my big sister. As we were moving to the stables area, the door swinging forth struck a heavy board behind it, and thus when the door closed that board came down on us. I quickly realized what was going on, and jumped in before the angle of the falling board became too steep to control, and was able to get it back upright. Remember it vividly, even, so must’ve been quite a scare. And a defining moment, also.

I liked that work shop. All that space, and more space. A place for everything. Even the junk I took apart. I wouldn’t be able to do with my hands what I can today if he hadn’t had that space, and if he hadn’t shown me how (in later years). I remember the work table he’d welded himself, and the great big tank he never got around to using for which ever project he’d had in mind. And the stables, with grandmom and granddad’s old huge beds stowed away. The attic, also, where I build a hide-away and on one occasion hid from mum when she came calling; lying perfectly still so she wouldn’t hear me, ’twas such a creacky place.

Here, in the house of our own, there isn’t such vastness of space. So the kids are always close, and calling out for me. Don’t know if that’s the reason, probably not. It’ll help define them, though. I hope they’ll find it to travel some, both of them.


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