29.08.2025 99km

 ~o~

  Friday 29th 58F/14.4C [7.10] A promising day. Dry, with some sunshine and light SW winds. Going southerly then from the SE later. The threat of early mist seems to be lifting.

 Up at 6.30 after another quiet night. No coffee. Just a small apple juice with a sub-micro Corny, dark chocolate, nut and seed bar for dinner. I had eaten well at cooking class.

 A good day for a ride. Both batteries are fully charged. Always the same problem: Where to go? 

 7.30 A walk first. 

 8.15 Back from my walk. It was warm and sticky due to the high humidity. The rain had brought out the killer slugs. To die in their thousands on the asphalt. Aided and abetted by the verge slashing tractor. Which was busy lowering the wildlife corridors. No more safe haven for the wolves, brown bears and wild bores. I am joking of course. The wolves haven't reached Fyn yet.

 I was met with a container at the end of my drive. Four men had come to strip the thatch from the abandoned house. Wearing white suits and light industrial masks. 

  A huge harvester beside a gorgeous agricultural building. The rotor was twice the length of the visible half.

This once beautiful house has been empty for years. After being bought by a property investor. The foreman suggested they wanted to renovate the house. After all these years? They should have started five years ago! Before the rodents moved into the roof. Leaving gaping holes. 

 After overnight rain it was too wet to take my post-harvest route out on the fields. I satisfied myself with a tour up and down the neighbour's drives. Where a lady with face like a sour prune drove past. I wasn't wearing a hat. So I couldn't raise it to the local nobility. I no longer have a forelock to touch at my age. Though I was sorely tempted to pretend. Perhaps she was still mourning the small, bent and damaged tree I had felled. To open up the gap for the first time in 25 years. Have a nice day Dear! Count your blessings! 😏

 8.35 Time to prepare for a ride. It has become quite dark. I shall be cross if it rains. 

 15.40 Back from a 99km ride. About 60 miles. I went to Bogense via Søndersø. Returning by a more direct route. I had to do a battery change near Harndrup. The antique flea market I was going to visit had closed down. Standing outside were half a dozen display cabinets. With glass sides. Just like the one in the living room. Somebody was carrying one into their flat nearby. 

Before leaving I swapped saddles to my old Brooks B17 from the trike. Well broken in and the skirts tied with a lace. I began to notice the saddle at around 50km. Though it never became painful. I had applied the Assos chamois cream before setting off.  

Hypericum "Miracle Night."

 The workers on the thatched roof have made excellent progress. However, they have added another container in the drive. Which makes my exit in the car rather difficult. I have to go shopping as soon as I've finished a very late lunch. I added another dark leaved plant to my collection. A Hypericum. 

 I took a picture of a dark bronze Hortensia/hydrangea on the way home. Google Lens doesn't recognize it by name. Only displaying varieties. None of them with dark "oak leaves." The garden centre had some supposedly dark Hortensia but only in early spring. A variety called "Black Diamonds." Which turns green in summer apparently.  

 There are several very dark varieties with the flowers I like. Black Diamonds "Angle Red" is spectacular! The only Danish stockists are out of stock. "Teller after Midnight" is even more difficult to find. "Eclipse" is nice too. I have found one of those. Click and collect. A tour in the car is now planned for tomorrow. 

 17.00 I completed my shopping trip. One of the workers checked I wasn't going to damage the paintwork. As I squeezed between the huge containers.[Eng: rubbish skips.] They have now covered the stripped roof with tarpaulins.

 Dinner was a fry up of chicken, mushrooms and tweggs.

 

  ~o~

28.8.2025 How big is the gap really?

 ~o~

  Thursday 28th 55F/12.8C [6.45] Thin clouds. An easterly wind. The forecast is sunny but rain after 6pm.

  Up at 6.45 after a very quiet night. No afternoon nap. I was in town. Only a tiny apple juice after dinner. No coffee.

  My cooking class restarts this morning. I had better go in the car. Just to make the traveling time more realistic then the e-bike's. The e-bike route is more direct but consists of narrow lanes. With all the sharp corners, humps and hills. While I use the main roads and lawful cruising speeds in the car. 

 The gap in the trees continues to entertain me. The consensus is that the perspective provided by the human eye tends to match a 50mm lens on a full frame camera. Though some suggest a slightly wider [shorter focal length] lens. My 4/3 G9 sensor suggests I aim for a 25mm focal length. [2x crop factor] 

 The image shows the view using a 25mm focal length from inside the dining table window. You'll have to ignore the debris from the observatory and the carport roof. 

 The fact that I have to resize the resulting image for the blog further complicates matters. As does the complexity of the human eye/brain interface. I have no difficulty concentrating my vision on the nearly invisible, distant trees. Just to the left of the much nearer trees in the middle of the image. Similarly I can mentally "zoom in" on the gravel in the foreground. The "mind's eye" is full of such optical tricks. 

 The size of the image on the screen directly alters the perceived image scale. Depending on whether you are using a mobile phone, the camera focusing screen or a 32" PC screen as I do. Then you may "expand" the view on the screen. By whatever mechanism is provided by your own tech. 

 My own "naked eye" view is completely unlike the image above. The view appears much larger, wider and brighter to my [two] eyes. For example, to match the central tree size, on my camera screen, requires a 150mm focal length. With the 2x crop factor that becomes 300mm full frame equivalent! This, however, is image scale, not perspective. The field of view has shrunk to match the much longer focal length. 

 8.15.  I had better have my shower and stop waffling.

 13.30 Back from cooking class. Where I made a carrot salad with melon, raisins and lemon juice. This was to be added to a chicken and potato meal with gravy. 

 Dinner at cooking class. 

 Interestingly, we had a new face. To replace another chap who had given up the cooking class. This new gentleman, of similar age to the rest of us, had great difficulty understanding my spoken Danish. He would lift his hand to his ear and claim to be deaf. Whereas he had no difficulty hearing my spoken English. He, himself, could speak English. He showed no difficulty hearing spoken Danish from the rest of the group. I could detect no malicious intent in this slightly odd behaviour. 

 He was friendly and even chatty in English. Obviously reasonably intelligent and confident. Often leading conversations and telling jokes to the group. Which is quite unusual in a new boy. If I spoke in Danish he was deaf. In English he was not. 

 I have never come across this situation before. I talk for hours, in total, in Danish, to some people. They never show the slightest difficulty in understanding me. Despite my known, poor grammar and dodgy pronunciation. Those who struggle usually show limited intelligence. They cannot fill in the gaps and errors in my speech. These people are usually in the minority. 

 Many Danes enjoy speaking English. They take the chance to practice their school English on a living Englishman. Their spoken English is often shockingly good. Far, far better than many born in the UK. With a purity which denies the listener the ability. To define their geographic origin from any known accent. Or to detect their education and class from distinct speech behaviours. Sometimes an American, Canadian or Australian twang creeps in from their having worked abroad. 

 I always encourage them. Thanking them warmly for having made the effort. It usually saves me having to dredge up. Or even invent a whole new vocabulary to fit the situation. Which often crops up where I know the name of a tool or material in English. While having to resort to description. To discover its given name in Danish. Language uniquely defines us in so many ways. I am under no illusion that I started much too late. To learn to speak Danish well. 

 What I missed most was not listening to spoken Danish on TV. The Danish government made it it increasingly difficult to access Danish via the TV. Despite having paid for the license for nearly 30 years. At first were poorly placed to receive terrestrial transmissions. Then they changed the technology. Which again denied us the ability to enjoy spoken Danish. Our supposedly modern series of TVs did not have digital receivers. 

 Even now it is a rigmarole to register for Danish TV online. Long term exposure to a language is vital to absorbing pronunciation and figures of speech via osmosis. Ordinary, informal conversation contains many twists and turns. Which have absolutely no meaning in direct translation. I used to listen to Danish on the "serious" programmes on the radio. Via ear defenders while working in a noisy, workshop environment. That stopped when I no longer worked there. 

 No dinner tonight. I have already eaten well. 

 

 ~o~

27.08.2025 Normalcy.

 ~o~

  Wednesday 27th 61F/16C [7.40] A grey start with a chance of some sunshine later.

 Up at 7am after dozing away earlier attempts to start the day.

 I have a visitor from the Kommune [County Council] later. Just to prod me for signs of life. I must message her. To say that the car parking and turning facilities have been upgraded. So she can drive all the way here. Rather than parking in the main drive and walking. Now I have four hours to spring clean and tidy. Minus the duration of my walk of course. Fortunately the visible parts of Chez Hovel remain reasonably tidy. Following the recent stay of my sister. 

 8.15-40 Another walk on the harvested fields. Via the spray tracks. It was mild and rather breezy. I had to take my jacket off to avoid overheating. Then I had a chat with a pony. Complimenting him on the great job the pair were doing.  

 10.15 Vacuumed, mopped and vacuumed again. Two more laundry loads hung to dry or or put away. Bathroom and kitchen tidied.

 My visitor arrived on time and was truly astonished by the changes I have wrought. The gravel, the gap in the trees, my plants. I took her on a conducted tour of the kitchen, the greenhouse pond, the increasingly open and tidy living room. She is always so positive about my changes. My climb from the darkest depths of despair. To what passes for a balanced human being. Living quietly and in reasonable comfort in Chez Hovel. 

 16.30 Back from Assens. Sunny and warm but windy. I found the heavy duty wall lining paper. Not cheap but it is available in up to 130g/m^2 pre-painted white. Wide too. So it will cover two narrow plasterboards. I'll do more homework before investing time and money in repairing the ugly walls. I must thank my sister for her insight and suggestion. All my previous ideas were too overwhelming. I can do this.

 The gap in the trees is like a stage. Foolishly unreal and strangely posed. The light artificially bright against the dark, foreground trees. The static background seemingly painted. The foreground an unrealistic, backdrop cartoons of leaves. At least eight layers of superimposed scenery measuring the illusion of great distance. No, I am not using some illegal substance. The effect is still fresh, half imaginary and really rather magical. 

 As a child I found stages truly magical too. The made-up actors extraordinary creatures. The lighting unbelievably pretty and sharp. The gap in the trees recaptures some of that. The problem is that I can't see it from my computer chair. And if I could. Would the magic soon fade? Would familiarity cause it to tarnish? It cannot change like a sea view. Its transformations must be wrought by light, season, weather and the crop being grown. Currently golden stubble following the recent harvest. Soon to become bare earth.

 I got up to renew my memory and a tiny tractor took to the distant, middle stage. Running across like a radio controlled toy. Cutting the grass of a newly formed lawn. Only recently hewn from weed and bumpy waste.

 As if it gave birth to the need for a gap in the trees. Or the gap caused it to take form. On a once, badly unkempt field. No buildings are visible unless I go closer to the gap. Which greatly adds to the view. There is nothing solid to latch onto. The scene is restful and largely unchanging. I like that. 

 6.50 Dinner beckons. What is it to be? It could be cop-out toast. 

 How to make toast a non-cop-out? Make it a meal. Cheese on toast with boiled and poached eggs. I boiled them but they wouldn't peel. So I dropped the soggy boiled eggs back into boiling water for five minutes. When they were firm I could cut them [roughly] into slices.

 ~o~