Journal Entries
WhoamI?
Posted Dec 26, 2007
Both my daughters are on Facebook - as am I, although I don't know what I can actually do there.
The youngest, 21, has added photos she took because we needed photos for promoting the musical stuff we do together. I don't think we can use them for that - but otherwise they are quite good.
A nice elderly couple, married for many years, at the harbour in Randers, Denmark.
I'm not sure how Facebook works, or whether you are allowed to see the album - but here is a link, if you are curious. 
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=23888&id=627790078
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Latest reply: Dec 26, 2007
A sharp corner
Posted Oct 17, 2007
At exactly 00:00 a birthday e-card entered my e-mail.
Hati and Hapi 
Some years ago I decided that 55 was a nice looking birthday to throw a party. But I forgot untill a couple of days ago. Now I have to wait till 77.
(And I'm not allowed to fiddle with this mysterious parcel from Estonia before this evening when Sig. S. returns from work (early morning shift) and daughter #2 arrives.
I have some deadlines to attend to, so help yourselves.
Have to 
to catch a 
Discuss this Journal entry [33]
Latest reply: Oct 17, 2007
Beautiful September
Posted Sep 4, 2007
I'm sitting here i Århus, the second largest city in Denmark. Having the use of a colleague's flat with an internet connection. W*rking desperately to accomodate a paper's deadline.
My colleague is in Copenhagen, and luckily his daughter, the guardian of the second set of keys, lives not too far away from the main station.
Not that I really care about the articles. The content is important enough - in my eyes - but it doesn't matter whether it is written now or next week.
But because my articles are needed to fill up the paper, I sit here in an unknown appartment in the middle of the city listening to seagulls scream, kids talk and the cultural festival week go by.
For the information of the people who don't know, I'm an abuser of alcohol, an alcoholic if you like that better. In my mind there is a distinction - but I fear that in my family's mind the distinction is of no importance.
I'm in a foul mood. I like to think that I drink to become happier. And I do - for a while - and then, like all alcoholics, I cry. I guess each of us have a special item/subject to cry about.
All my journals have been written when I've been drinking, and when I thought I had something to give or ask for.
Most of the time I don't drink. I'm too old, I hurt my family, nothing good comes out of drinking - well except a smile sometimes.
I love life. I think it is a duty to be happy and contribute - without getting repaid - or whatever it is called.
Most males in my life - husband, son, late dad and some friends - are very eager to point out to me that life is a misery (my interpretation ) and 'a pessimist is a well-informed optimist'.
I refuse to agree. I love sunshine, bird's song, tall grass, imagerian language, good books, intriguing paintings, difficult music - and sentimentality. Since I've grown old I'm really a sucker for a good cry.
Don't tell the women in my 'liberation group', or the people in the socialistic societies.
I'm as firm and steadfast in my gender-related and political views as I've always been.
Hopefully I have not robbed anybody of their beliefs.
Thanks for listening.
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Latest reply: Sep 4, 2007
Self made ?
Posted May 28, 2007
For a long time I've been an employee although I haven't had an employer since midsummer 1993.
No employer means no certain income, no holidays to speak of, no set w*rking hours = no days off.
Our country's system means that I can actually supplement my freelancing jobs with dole for the 'not registered w*rking hours'.
My family insists I'm w*rking all the time - day and night - during weekends and whatever holidays employed w*rker regularily have.
And, yes. I seem to attend more to my pc than to anybody else. I even have rented an office in a nearby town.
The key word is 'seem'. Because allthough I sit in my 'home office' or stand in my 'town office', I always have time for husband, kids, grandchildren, colleagues and friends. The hours I've put in for driving to football matches, collecting bicycles at places from where my daugther has hitchhiked, picking up my husband from w*rk, talking to people who needed a sympathetic ear, working around everybody else's plans are innumerable.
I'm not complaining. I like being indispensable. .
I just want to have longer hours and a better condition, because I'm too old to meet the exspectations I promise to meet.
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Latest reply: May 28, 2007
A motherless child
Posted Dec 22, 2006
The first time I heard "Sometimes, I feel like a motherless child", I felt 
. Isn't it the ultimate sensation of being a grown human? Being all alone and nobody loves you unconditionally?
I interpret now that this is the basic human feeling: I'm all alone and - 'nobody knows the trouble I've seen' - etc. Some people's trouble are indeed very hard to endure. Not mine, I hasten to say.
But a motherless child, yes. More so, because my mother is rapidly going off her mind. Is getting demented. And I find myself both coping and getting exasperated when she calls me the umpteenth time to ask and talk about the same thing we did yesterday.
No problem, I can take care of my mother - and all my kids - and my husband, the oldest child in af Slovenian/Italian family, finds it quite natural to offer my mother a home in our house.
Actually, it is not done in Denmark in these times - but maybe we'll do it anyway. The house is big enough.
And here I was, hoping, that when all my kids have grown up, there would be some kind of me-time.
Two years ago my mother sent me a cartoon picturing a grandchild and a grandmother in a twin push chair - the child in one side, the grandma in another, and the middle aged woman pushing, thats me.
I've ensured that my youngest son (17) will take over when I collapse. He said 'yes' while sms'ing, watching Simson's, writing a biology report, listening to music, praticing scales on the guitar and corresponding on messenger.
And now - 
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Latest reply: Dec 22, 2006
tartaronne
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