The Bookcase

She ran her fingers along the books in my bookcase, as if she were trying to read my life.

Some of the bindings were torn, faded, or just missing parts. The titles not especially clear, some hard to read, some not making any sense at all.

Some of the books were missing. Parts of my life which had gone lost, somewhere along the way. The years before I knew her. Uninteresting, to say the least.

When she came to our life together, she took a deep breath, before finding a seat nearby, taking a stack of the most important years, trying to read my life with hers.

I would have liked to share the moments with her. Seeing her face light up, when she read the important parts. The minutes spent. Not anything more important in this life for the both of us. She laughed, then she cried. Her face reflected the light of the sunset creating long shadows on the walls of my books, the oranges burning brightly through the later years of my life.

Her fingers hesitated for a moment. She started putting the books back in place, making sure the edges were immaculately placed with just enough space for a bit of dust to share the memories, the pages of my life.

One book remained open. The table, the room now existing as a memory, where we walked the fields and the streets of my life, hand in hand, closer to the touch.

The final pages were left blank, until her fingers found the strength to finish the story. The story of our lives together, when the edges, the bindings were new, and we had the whole story in front of us.




The day leaves

drops and splashes

on my glasses,

clouding my views,

My jacket, being my shield

defends not my hands, cold as

My dog wonders

why we’ve stopped

shakes himself off

then continues

as if the day were dry


Living Up to Linda

No one can do so

be the same,

as Linda,

Who was she,

some might ask?

the ideal, the less than real,

The one to strive to be,

The woman

in my past,

brought alive, like never before

It’s not easy, you see

living up to what,

Linda might be….

It All Started on Christmas Eve, 2015

That is when I started being jealous. It is not a pretty thing, but hey! It happened.

I wanted you to be single. Just a single girl out there alone in the world. Boy, how wrong I could be!

No matter. You were still single on New Year’s Eve, with only your brother and parents celebrating this event. I forgive you for that, but…

Then you showed up sitting next to your boyfriend! Some people’s kids. I did read one mention of “we” but it might just have been a slip of the keyboard, and not the revelation of you being unfaithful!

On February 9th 2015 your secret was revealed! Try as you may to disguise the fact, you really did have someone else, and that made my jealousy increase beyond the first gentle suspicions of your infidelity…

February 11. The day that will live in infamy. The day that revealed to me that you indeed have a boyfriend. You were sitting by his side, and this and that. Later on you were visiting New York City with unnamed companions, not caring how it affected me. You were trying on wedding dresses, and courting French lovers. It seems that whatever and whenever you wrote a blog, there were more men that were involved with you…..

Jealousy….Not a pretty word, no matter how you look at it! But the the plot thickened.

You wondered yourself, how I could be here, where I am, without having a significant other to share my life with. And yes, the answer was that I too would be in the arms of someone, who wasn’t you, and would be flaunting that truth, without knowing it myself!

Then you also wondered where the jealous side of me had gone, as I didn’t seem to mention it anymore in my writings, and communication with you, which told you that I had overcome my jealousy, making our lives less exciting than they were before!

But if all of this was just a collection of words on this piece of imaginary paper, would it change the feelings that you had for me, or those that I had for you, if of course our imaginary spouses did not exist, even in our memories, and definitely not in the way that would make our jealousy pale in their morning light?

You see now that being jealous is not something that should be considered due to its uncertainties and misunderstandings of you, me and them. If, we could be together, then I wonder how long it would be that we would become jealous all over again, as it was the defining high point of our non-relationship with each other? We could beat everyone to the punch, and start by imagining ourselves with someone else, other than who we currently are with, but not necessarily each other, then we could be jealous, without having to cause each other pain by doing so.

I hope to receive your reply, unless of course this blog causes you distress? If so, then I would rip it into tiny shreds of virtual paper, and complain to your mother that your non-relationship with that lousy, no good, imaginary lover did to you exactly what she had told you would happen, if of course, he had been real in the first place.

Then we won’t be jealous of each other anymore…..

My First Trip to Denmark – Day 1

My first trip to Denmark was in 1988, and actually started in Washington D.C.

Well, if we go back to the real point of departure, it was Sacramento, Ca.

My now mother in-law would be turning 50, and her daughter, now my wife, wanted to surprise her by traveling from the States to Denmark, and arriving on her doorstep without her prior knowledge.

I too would be making that journey, but that wasn’t until a few days before the actual event, with my last point of departure from the USA being Washington DC.

My sister lived in Fairfax Virginia at the time, so while my luggage was out sightseeing due to an airport mix-up, I decided to take the subway to our nation’s Capital.


All Screen Shots courtesy of Google Maps.

My main concern on that trip was to take the elevator to the top of the Washington Monument ( in order to get a bird’s eye view of the city at hand.

You won’t find any skyscrapers here:

Height restriction

Unlike other large cities in the U.S., Washington’s downtown has a low skyline. With the advent of the skyscraper and the construction of the Cairo Hotel, residents were concerned that the city’s European feel might be dwarfed by high-rise buildings. Congress therefore passed the Heights of Buildings Act in 1899, limiting any new building in Washington to a height of 110 feet (34 m). The act was amended in 1910 to allow buildings 20 feet (6.1 m) higher than the width of the adjacent street.[18]

Source: Wikipedia

Here are some photos from the Monument


The White House taken in 1991. President Ronald Reagan, Commander In Chief.



The Ellipse and the White House.



The US Capitol seen to the East of the Washington Monument.


Some office buildings.



Lincoln Memorial and Reflecting Pool


Looking towards Virginia Avenue NW.

The next blog takes us to the ground once again, seeing Washington DC from another angle.

Day 1 continued – Washington DC



Would You Fight to Keep Her?

She is yours,

of that there is no doubt,

but is that to continue,

the way you treat



Would you fight to keep her? From those that

would and could do more,

To let her choose the greater of the two


the lesser of these being

the one you both follow, but-


Would you ask her to stay, and become one again,

how it all started out

The quest that you both were committed to

before your ways started to part,


Would you accept her, the way she is

and not,

the way you want her to be?

The free spirit that exists, the will to do

the want for change and….


Would you love her, the way

that she wants, and needs to be loved,

the way that many dream about, strive after,

wait for, and finally….


Would you fight to keep her?

I wonder if you ever, could appreciate the way

that she is?

-and listen to what her dreams contain

-and fight off all attackers, who would want

to give her what she really needs


I wonder…


A Little Something for You, Today

Here is a little heart

for those of you who think that

this day

is special,


It might be a cake,  with sugar and such

which you  didn’t want anyway? Or, perhaps a flower

which only spoke the language, Room Temperature…


Empty calories or flowers that died on the way home

in the freezing winter wind,

Such  a choice for a Valentine

to have,


I should have chosen something,  that could withstand the cold

and what wasn’t guilty, when the chocolate box was empty


Perhaps next year, it’ll be a cabbage?

The prelude to a nice soup, the mother of all vegetables,

and much more sturdy than kale!


Don’t be sad

Valentine’s Day will come again,

just whisper sweet vegetable intentions in my ear,

and seduce me with your cooking pans,


Happy You-Know-What…….


Promises, Keeping Promises

I am cautious

about making promises

because making breeds keeping

and keeping



I do not use the word love

that often,

Love is a troublesome thing

causing and promising,

more than I can hope,

to deliver,


As much as I want to promise

-and as much as I want to love

-and as much as it all seems so



I end up writing prose

about it anyway,

as if it would help me


what it is all about….