I Am an Obsolete Child

Thirty-five short years ago

This is the first year in more years than I can even remember that I've been home on my birthday, and aside from a few minor details such as the fact that my mom now bakes with oddly named flours and strangely textured sugars, if she uses sugar at all, and the fact that the obligatory cake-holding pictures no longer have the long striped brown and tan curtains in the background, things were pretty much just as I remember, though I'm no longer the youngest one around. 

That said, I still feel remarkably juvenile for having been alive for half of seventy years, if quite forgetful, absent-minded, and generally crotchety. People are usually quite willing to forgive the aged these offenses, but being in your mid-thirties doesn't seem to garner the same sympathy as one twice your age when it comes such traits, which in my case happen to run in the family.

My dad, who for a week now has now been alive for the whole of seventy years, has been losing things, forgetting things, and grousing about things for years. As far as I know, he has been in a perpetual state of looking for his keys/phone/wallet/dark glasses, of entering a room and looking mildly surprised to find himself there, of leaving the house only to promptly return to retrieve a forgotten item (see above), or of stalking around while muttering incomprehensibly about some injustice or another since the mid-eighties. Already being dangerously skilled in this particular routine myself, one can only guess what my state will be in another thirty-five years.

A very considerate birthday gift to my dad helpfully pointed out that You're Only Old Once! and concluded with the parting thought 'you're in pretty good shape for the shape you are in.' If I can be in half as good of shape at seventy as my dad is, then I don't mind getting older. To another thirty-five years!

Hamburg, Copenhagen, Good Weather, and I Pass Another Test

Looking good at 31km

Viking Man recently tucked another marathon under his belt. We took a quick two day trip down to Hamburg at the end of April so he could run, and while we didn't have a lot of time to look around, it was still fun to leave the Monkey with the in-laws for the night and visit a new city--and country, for that matter, because we all know that airports don't count.

De Kongelige Repræsentationslokaler

Nyhavn

I also took a field trip to Copenhagen with Sprogcentret last week. Copenhagen is a nice city, so even though I had seen some of what was on the itinerary, I enjoyed the day's program, especially De Kongelige Repræsentationslokaler. We had to slog through rain for a good part of the day, but by the time we took our canal tour, the weather had cleared, and our parting photos at Nyhavn had us squinting into the setting sun. Home just past midnight, it was a long but good day.

I could complain more about the weather and temperature here, as I am wont to do, but instead I will make note of some very nice, albeit brisk, weather we had on Mother's Day. Our little street of seven houses voted to build a zip line in the forest opposite the houses, and Mother's Day was the work day for that project. VM's mother came and brought Monkey's cousin. Someone pulled a garden table and chairs into the street. There were cinnamon rolls and tea and coffee. At one point, a grill appeared. By the end of the day, the kids were zipping happily down the line. Monkey didn't hesitate for a second and surprised everyone by sailing fearlessly down the line by herself. 'Zip line' is now part of her vocabulary.

Speaking of vocabulary, I suppose my Danish is progressing. VM and I are taking our summer vacation early this year, and as a result, I will miss taking the next module test with the rest of my class. Not wanting to fall behind, I asked if I could take the test a month early, which I did just this past Wednesday.

There were four reading comprehension elements and two writing tasks. The reading comprehension was pretty straightforward. I either understood or I didn't. The writing felt more ambiguous. Did I write to a high enough standard? Was I too ambitious? Did I even make any sense whatsoever? Anyway, I passed, so now I have to look forward to the Module 4 test which comprises reading, writing, listening, and oral components. Three down, three to go.

We leave for the US on Tuesday. It's been two years, and I am really looking forward to seeing family, driving our Corvair, celebrating birthdays, camping, and hopefully some warm weather!

Blog Spring Cleaning: Dansk Progress, Monkey is Two, Fashion Fails, Irondad Prevails

TV/Midt-Vest visit

In January, my classmates and I passed the test to move to Module 3. Now in addition to our regular classes, we have a group project element in which we make presentations on a central theme. This is a combined effort with Module 4, and we have just begun our second project--Media in Holstebro. My team chose TV, so I arranged for us to visit TV/Midt-Vest, the regional TV station, last week. We were all pleasantly surprised by how enjoyable and interesting it was. We got a personal tour by the redaktionschef through the news rooms and studios, and she graciously sat with us for a short interview. We will give our presentations in a couple of weeks. 

In February, I took the first Dansk Prøve, a test which is required for those on 'Family Reunification' visas. There is only one testing location for the entire country, so it was a very convenient 3 1/2 hour drive for us. I'm still waiting for the results, but the test was easy. 

Monkey Baby turned two in March, so she's not really a baby anymore. But she's definitely still a monkey. She's funny and frustrating and totally charming. Her English and Danish are both developing quickly which is completely fascinating to me as one raised mono-lingually. Currently trending is 'ikke' (not) with everything: 

'Daddy henne?' (Where's Daddy?)

'Daddy's in the living room opening the curtains.'

'Nej, mama, ikke curtains.'

'Well, he is opening the curtains.'

'Ikke curtains!'

'Take it up with Daddy.'

'Time to get ready for bed, Monkey.' 

'Nej, ikke bed.' 

'Yes, and then we'll read some books.' 

'Nej, mama, ikke read books!' 

'But you love books!' 

(pause) 'Yaaaay books!'

So that's fun.

Påske is everywhere right now. Easter. There are familiar themes of eggs and chocolate bunnies, and the ad magazines are full of offers on legs of lamb and pickled herring. 

Easter dresses, c. 1987

This morning my choir sang for the Palm Sunday service out at Mejrup Kirke. Even though I've been to church here before--and to this church in particular--I still decided to wear high heels, dress slacks, and a dry-clean-only top. It must be something ingrained. Growing up, we always dressed up for church. But today, I felt a little out of place in a sea of sensible shoes and no-nonsense attire. 

This is not the first time I've felt inappropriately dressed at an event in Denmark, so I'm considering generating a chart which details occasions and clothing options that can be cross-referenced with times of day.

• Evening birthday in a garden tent: casual with sweater
• Afternoon birthday: nice casual, take along practical shoes for a forest/beach walk
• Confirmation with a nursing infant: squeeze into that one black dress and hope for the best
• Confirmation at a golf resort: GO SHOPPING
• Church: freely choose any of the frumpy clothes in your closet

It's a work in progress.

To finish my spring cleaning, I need to mention my dad. He pops up in my writing now and then, often in conjunction with athletic achievements, and his latest accomplishment is the Melbourne Ironman. 

As with his first Coeur d'Alene Ironman, there was a bit of drama. There was a trip to the ER to deal with recurring gut blockage caused by the radiation several years ago. There was morphine and an IV drip. There was a mad dash to the airport directly from the VA hospital. There was a recurrence of bronchitis. There was dehydration. Ultimately, there was an Ironman, and his name is Dwight Schuh. 

He finished sixth out of seven in the 70-74 age group, sticking it out to the end with fellow American Richard Weinbrandt who came in seventh with 1 1/2 lungs following a lung infection and surgery in December 2014. To quote my sister, 'Sounds like the old guy division isn't for wimps.' You can say that again.

Sorry you didn't get your Kona qualifier, dad. We still think you're alright.

I have holiday and the Potato Parents visit

During holiday time in Denmark, everything stops. There are no more organized play groups, no more swim classes, no school, no daycare, nothing. I haven't been to language school for six weeks. The Monkey and I have spent a lot of time in the sand box.

On a positive note, the weather for the past few weeks was stunning. It was hot and sunny, and I wore my Singapore clothes. Viking Man started to wilt. I started to feel like a normal person.

In 2006, I moved to Korea for one year. My mom said that if I ended up staying another year, she would visit. I stayed another year. And another. I got married. I moved. It took a baby in 2013 for me to get that visit from her. Then again, the Parents are hemmers and hawers by nature. After my dad's plan to come to Singapore with my mom was thwarted by the stem cell transplant, I wasn't sure they would ever be able to make another decision about visiting. But they did! And they both came! And it was so much fun to show them our life in Denmark. We went to Lønstrup and Skagen, Legoland, Spøttrup Borg, and did some general touring in Holstebro and the surrounding area.

Those two weeks raced by, then we had to say farvel. Monkey Baby looked for Grammy and Grumpa the morning they left, waved and said 'hej hej' when we went in the empty guest room. Boo.

Now the fantastic weather has reverted to normal Danish weather, which means I am cold and Viking Man is no longer in crisis. The Monkey is back in the sand box or on her scooter. Language school resumes on Monday.

I'd better dust off my books.

Photos Album Links:

• West Coast/Bremdal Strand
• Lønstrup/Skagen
• Legoland
• Spøttrup Borg

Borneo and Brain-eating Monkeys

It has been more than a year since I've written anything. I am pretty sure it is because Monkey Baby has eaten my brain. I had no idea that monkeys even liked brains, but the more I've checked around, the more it seems that brain is standard fare for the wily creatures.

Anyway, earlier today I found part of my brain in a corner of the dining room next to a dried broccoli floret. It appeared still to be usable, so I brushed it off and put it where Monkey Baby couldn't reach it. In order to protect its future usability, I have to use this remaining piece of brain sparingly. Hence, this will be short and make use of many pictures.

We went to Malaysian Borneo with Viking Man's parents in October 2011. The bit of rainforest that is left in Borneo is full of the most spectacular wildlife imaginable. From insects to elephants, Borneo has it all, including more than 1,000 species of ants. Ants! Large and lumbering, small and industrious, they were everywhere. We also saw proboscis and red leaf monkeys, a crocodile, regal birds of all kinds, deer, lizards, a marble cat, and a bunch of other things that I made note of somewhere.

My brain fragment is starting to overheat, so I will finish by making a list of recollections from this trip followed by a slideshow.

• I had to deal with Air Asia which is like being stabbed in the eye with a hot poker. 
• I really liked watching wildlife from a boat. 
• The orangutan sanctuary was good, but seeing a man of the forest in the wild gave me goosebumps.
• The drive to Borneo Rainforest Lodge was long and jarring and totally worth it. 
• One of our guides saw an animal he had only previously seen in a zoo. 
• Leech socks may have been overkill, but they kept out the leeches. 
• Getting up early to hear the rainforest wake up was also worth it (it almost killed me to just admit that). 
• Viking Man can totally pull off wearing a sarong. 

Dwight Schuh, Irondad and how I failed to become a runner

Harvest Classic, c. 1992

I've participated in a quite a few fun runs and race walks in my time. As a sophomore in high school, I even joined my sister on the cross country team for part of a season. It was, however, an ill-fated stint, and I was compelled to rid myself of that evil before it caused permanent damage. Suffice it to say that I was not an asset to the team.

Christmas run, 2009

Beijing Marathon, 2009

My most recent events have been the 2009 Beijing Marathon 4.2k 'mini marathon', and a 2009 Boise Christmas fun run in which I walked with my nephew and pushed my niece in a stroller. It was just a whole ball of fun.

Since then, I have been very content to leave the running to my husband and family and put my efforts into the part of sport I enjoy: spectating.

This summer, I had the opportunity to ultra-spectate at Bighorn, and then for the first time I got to Iron-spectate for my dad at Coeur d'Alene Ironman.

It was not dad's first Ironman, but I had previously only spectated at one of his sprint triathlons, and this was a completely different animal. Honestly, the sprint tri seemed almost pathetic when compared with the vast scale and difficulty of Ironman (I say this knowing that I myself could not complete a sprint tri). It was overwhelming just to be there, let alone compete.

As it turns out, we almost weren't there. Dad had been in 'let's wait and see' mode for more than six months and had only just made the decision. On Tuesday he was ready to scrap the whole thing and take the loss. On Wednesday he went to chemo and came away feeling great. On Friday morning we were driving to Coeur d'Alene.

There are so many stories at an Ironman--stories of extreme weight loss, triumph, perseverance--my dad himself has a story. It's impossible not to feel inspired by these everyday people who show up to take on the infamous swim, bike, run. But it comes down to this: Are you tough enough? Can you dig deep enough? Are you an Ironman? My dad is a grumpy, stubborn old dude who didn't want to waste his money and who wanted a finisher shirt, but evidently he was also tough enough, and he finished that race like the Ironman that he is. With twenty minutes to spare.

GO!!!!! 

Panic attack 

One lap down, one to go

Nose to the grindstone

Around mile 70 

Only 13 more miles!

'From Nampa, Idaho, 67 years old, Dwight Schuh, you are an Ironman!'

Shortly after Ironman, dad's middle brother and family came to visit. I hadn't seen them in years, so it was great that I happened to be around. We celebrated several birthdays and the 4th of July. 

Dad and his brother. 'Why didn't you tell
me to smooth out my shirt?' Dad said.

My Aunt's awesome apple pie

Cousins!

It's not summer in the US without the Corvair

I finished my time in the US with a camping trip in McCall with my sister and the kiddos. Of course it wasn't just camping. Things with my family aren't ever just one thing. It was camping 'and by the way, we're manning an aid station for the McCall Trail Running Classic'. But never mind, I picked up a cowbell and did my part for ultra running. We also sneaked in a hike and a canoe ride on the reservoir.

Next: Borneo, possibly? I think it's about time.

Inspiration at Bighorn Mountain Wild and Scenic Trail Run 2012 and Borneo on hold

It was my intention for this post to be on Borneo, but as I am now in the US for several weeks without the computer that has all the pictures, it will be on hold for awhile because Borneo needs pictures, obviously.

Note for this post: 100 = 100 miles. 

I came to the US at this same time last year, and as I also did last year, I accompanied my sister and some other local Idaho runners to the Bighorn Mountain Wild and Scenic Trail Run shortly after I arrived. I'm not kidding about the 'shortly' either. Due to a flight delay and the consequent domino effect, I arrived in Idaho a full hour before Sister Em picked me up for a fourteen hour road trip to Wyoming.

Last year's Bighorn run was epic in several ways. It was my first time ultra spectating/crewing, and it was Sister Em's first Bighorn 100. The nearly thirty-five hour haul ended with a furious five mile bike ride on my part, ten minutes to spare on Sister's part, and nail-biting by all.

Bighorn 2012: all smiles before the race

This year was also epic, but for very different reasons, listed following:

Sister Em had her first 100 DNF. That means Did Not Finish. Not finishing an ultra run is nothing to be embarrassed about, however. Ultra runners wear their DNFs with pride. Stories of DNFing are told with just as much passion as stories of crossing the finish line. DNFs are full of pain and struggle and usually incredible fortitude. Sister stubbornly completed sixty-six miles before she conceded that this race was not hers to finish.

Mile 13; Sister ran for 12 more hours
before throwing in the towel

Amy King took on the Bighorn 100 and ran like a mad dog not only to attempt her first 100, but to finish it in style. You rock, Amy King.

Amy 'Mad Dog' King powering into mile 82

Sam Collier, aged 59 3/4, brought out his alter ego Gregory to properly spank the Bighorn 100 in the behind on his first Bighorn 100 attempt.

Sam the Man at mile 13

My dad, who wished he could have been running himself, crewed with me and continued to inspire everyone around him by pacing Sam and Amy for a total of ten miles in spite of considerable pain. He is a mountain goat and all around rock star.

Dad and Sam heading out of mile 82

Other local runners Dennis Ahern, Lynette McDougal, and Christie Ebenroth respectively knocked out a 10th 100 like it was a walk in the park, put away the 100 with shredded feet, and had the courage to try again.

Zen Dennis

Lynette happy to be finished

Christie refuses a ride into Dry Fork

And as if all that wasn't epic enough, I once again got to spend several nights with my dear grandparents who always inspire with their quiet strength.

More good times in the US to come.

1969 Corvair Monza: The Testing of the Patience

MHH bonds with the Yellow Bomb

At nearly midnight in the parking lot of the Boise Airport, after more than ten hours of delays in Singapore, Hong Kong, and San Francisco, MHH finally got his first look at the Corvair. He circled it excitedly, poked around inside, and exclaimed repeatedly how fantastisk it was. 

Now, driving an old car draws a lot of attention, a reality that had never crossed my mind. Around the time of the Orchard incident, I entered a parking lot which had two sets of very stiff speed bumps over which I crept at a snail’s pace, causing a pileup of cars behind me. I cleared the bumps, parked in a remote and deserted section of the lot, and then looked over to see the mini van from behind me on the speed bumps pull up right next to me. I tensed as the window slowly slid down. Was I going to get yelled at? Or shot? ‘What year is your Corvair?’ The sweet voice of a middle aged woman drifted from the van. I started laughing.

So when a guy in a large truck paused next to us in the airport car park, I didn’t panic. ‘’68 or ’69?’ He yelled.

‘’69,’ I called back.

‘Ha! I told you!’ He slapped his buddy on the shoulder, pleased to have won their little bet.

Posing at Lake Abert

Thirty-two hours later, we were cruising across arid eastern Oregon on Hwy 20. Coming from the tropical confines of Singapore, the dry, open desert and rock formations of the West seemed gloriously vast and foreign even though I had driven this route many times.  

I introduced MHH to my favorite places from family road trips of the past such as the Burns Safeway; the Hwy 20-395 junction at Riley; Wagontire, where Oma had spent nights on her way to visit us; and Lake Abert, a large and bleakly beautiful alkali lake I only recently learned was called Lake Abert.

After lunch at Tall Town Burger and Bakery in Lakeview, the Corvair refused to start. You’ve got to be kidding.

‘You know, MHH, even though it’s an automatic, I read something in the manual about being able to push-start if you can get it going 20-25 mph…’

‘You read the manual?’

‘Why, yes, I did.’

‘You really are strange sometimes, Potato Woman. Well, don't just stand there, start pushing.’

If you happened to be driving out of Lakeview on Hwy 140 in the early afternoon of July 3^rd, you just might have seen us attempting and failing enormously at this exercise. Sigh.

MHH then peered into the engine cavity, decided that the battery cable connectors should be replaced as they were very old and corroded, and set off on foot to check the nearby Chevron for some tools.

If you drove past at this time, you might have seen a forlorn girl baking in the sun next to a Corvair with a raised hood. You might have even waved. At what point do you decide to wave at someone having car trouble? I wondered. The rear engine must be confusing.

MHH trudged back 45 minutes later armed with a pile of tools and parts from True Value, and in a showing of skills I didn’t know he possessed, changed out the cable connectors. We crossed our fingers—

The car still wouldn’t start. ‘Let’s ask for a jump,’ I said, just wanting to get out of there, to be anywhere but that spot on the road in Lakeview where people continued to wave at us as if we had simply been gazing into our trunk and digging through our luggage for over an hour.

We flagged down a likely fella driving an old rig that looked bound to contain jumper cables. Sure enough, he had cables and was willing to give us a jump. A good ol’ boy of few words, he smiled in quiet amusement as he set the cables, then motioned for MHH to start the Corvair. It turned over, and over, and over, and over—and finally, like a child being forced to wake from a deep sleep, came to life with great resistance.

Elated, we thanked the quiet man and quickly put Lakeview in the rearview mirror, driving straight through to Klamath Falls, which is where I was born and where both of my parents are from. 

Visiting Oma

I wanted to visit our old house as well as my Oma’s old house, but as our 5pm deadline to reach Jacksonville had been tightened by the Lakeview incident, I settled for a drive-by of Oma’s house. If you saw two people with a yellow Corvair skulking around outside your house in the late afternoon of July 3^rd, it was only MHH and I, and I lived in your house in 1985. You’ve kept it up nicely, and your 4^th of July decorations looked great.

We arrived in Jacksonville with no further incidents. Though we were already late for the 5pm family reunion dinner, a change of clothes was essential after eight hours without air-con in vinyl seats. My mom, dad, and sister, who were all sitting in the same room together, kept calling and texting me independently of each other, wondering where we were, if we were coming, and how long we would be. And now how long? How about now?

Feeling refreshed but slightly harried, we hopped back into the car, pulled onto the main drag, and promptly died. You've got to be kidding.

My patience for the Yellow Bomb was very slim at this point, so I walked to the restaurant and let MHH sort out the car. The dinner with my mom’s whole family was very nice, and MHH showed up shortly, having stashed the car somewhere off the road.

Everyone smiling and looking at the camera with eyes open--amazing!

MHH and John retrieved the car after dinner. More peering into the engine compartment revealed some loose pipes that MHH secured with a zip-tie so they would stop interfering with this other thing that needed to move. That may or may not have been a problem, but the car started, so I was happy though still somewhat distrustful. 

We didn’t have to drive much the next two days, so we were able to concentrate on having a good time hanging out with the fam.

Later, MHH and I talked about how driving a car like ours is really driving. You have to have your foot on the gas and both hands on the wheel. You don't drive to adventure, you drive for adventure. You really get to know a car like ours.

Yes, we were getting to know the Yellow Bomb, but it was not without the testing of the patience. 

June Milestones, plus a little May and July

June is a month of weddings. My grandparents, parents, and sister all got married in June. I, of course, had to be different and got married in May.  

My grandparents were married 63 years ago on June 13, 1948. They are still just as cute as they were on their wedding day.

Bighorn Mountain Wild and Scenic Trail Run, June 15-19

Man, it’s good to be in an Idaho summer!  I had almost forgotten what it feels like to be warm without being sticky. It’s just past nine in the evening right now.  The sun is low in the wide blue sky, the air is warm and still and sweet with the scent of farmland, and I have the house to myself for the night as my parents have gone away to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary.

A dear friend of my from Singers (you know who you are!) suggested I make blog updates about my summer in the US, and since she is wise and full of good ideas and advice, I’m going to do just that.  Here is my first story:

I arrived in the US on the evening of June 13th.  Early the morning of the 15th, my sister Emily, her husband John, and I tucked ourselves into their Xterra along with a mountain of camping and running gear and zipped across Idaho (highway 20 across Idaho is fantastic!), cut through Montana, and touched down 13 hours later in Dayton, Wyoming.

She Beat the Bear

The secret satisfied smile of one who has completed something more monumental than most of us dare dream.

The Bear 100
36:49

Idaho August 2008

I'm desperately trying to catch up with my photos before I find myself in 2009!

Christmas in Idaho, December 2007

Morten and I went our separate ways for Christmas this last year. While he headed off to Denmark, I boarded a plane for Idaho. It was a very short ten days, but it was great to see the fam. I did some whirlwind shopping, Emily and John helped me clean out 'the dreaded storage unit', mom slipped on the ice and broke her wrist, and overall it was just a good old Schuh family Christmas.

Denmark, July 27-August 27

Please take your time browsing though the pictures from our vacation to Denmark. Each album and sub-album is linked below so you can look at as many or as few as you'd like. Enjoy.

Main Album Title: Denmark 2007

Sub-albums:

•Holstebro
We spent our first couple of days in Denmark recovering from jetlag and taking walks and bike rides around Morten’s hometown of Holstebro. The town is completely bike-friendly and also has many walking paths and green areas. During our four weeks in Denmark, I spent lots of time reading in Morten’s cute little house, sitting outside in the sun when the weather permitted. One day we went out to the golf course for a round of pay-and-play golf--my first round ever of regular-sized golf. After some driving practice, we hit the course for what turned out to be nine wild holes. I, however, kept the promise I made to Morten to finish with the same ball I started with. Another day we drove to a campground on the fjord whose website promised we could rent a small sailboat. We arrived to find the sailboat out of commission and rented a small motorboat instead. While Morten was slightly disappointed, we still had a great time puttering across the fjord. We ate sandwiches on the opposite side then dropped anchor just offshore on our way back for a chilly swim. I also tried my skills ‘behind the wheel’ where I proved to be a bit erratic.
1. Morten’s house
2. Boating
3. Golfing
4. Around town

•Skagen
After a couple days of jetlag recovery, we borrowed an old Volkswagen from a friend of Morten’s stationed in the States and drove to the very tip of Denmark to meet Morten’s parents, sister and niece where they were camping. We were able to borrow their bikes and have some nice tours of the area. We saw a church that’s slowly sinking into the sand, Skagen Museum, the harbour and town, a beautiful sunset, Old Skagen and the tip of Denmark where the two seas meet visibly in a crash of waves.
1. Camp
2. Sunset
3. Sightseeing
a. Harbor
b. Museum and town
c. Old Skagen
d. Sinking church
e. The strand

•Church, migrating sand dune and Lønstrup
On our way back from Skagen, we drove a different route in order to see a few more sights of interest. The first was a church and graveyard that is falling little by little into the sea as the cliff is eaten away by the water and wind. Many of the graves have already been taken, and the edge of the cliff is creeping closer and closer to the church. Just south of the church is a migrating sand dune which is where we stopped next. It is moving inland from the sea and has partially buried a lighthouse. Lastly, we stopped in Lønstrup, a small arts and crafts town full of galleries and boutiques. We looked into a few of them and saw some beautiful glasswork and pottery.
1. Church
2. Migrating sand dune

•Fyn
Since we both love boats and water, Morten has been researching the purchase of a sailboat for awhile now. He located one of interest on the island of Fyn, so we took a day trip down to check it out. It ended up not being the right boat for us, but the drive was incredibly beautiful, and we had a nice walk around downtown Fåborg.

•Copenhagen
My first visit to Denmark wouldn’t have been complete without a visit to the capital city. We saw a lot in only a couple of days and did a little shopping as well. Since Morten served two years military service with the Royal Guard, he was able to tell me alot of interesting things about them when we watched the changing of the guard. We saw a couple of the places Hans Christian Andersen lived in Nyhavn as well as the famous, though underwhelmingly small, Little Mermaid statue. We saw the crown jewels in the treasury at Rosenborg, but of course no pictures were allowed. Tivoli is an unexpectedly well-rounded amusement park for being in the center of a large city, and I had an unexpectedly good time. We started with a delicious bbq buffet and then walked around looking at the attractions and rides. We were not planning on riding any rides, but my enthusiasm for roller coasters overpowered Morten's lack there-of, and we bought single tickets for one ride. The post-ride photo at the photo booth was hilarious as I was beaming with thrill and Morten looked bored out of his mind. After a few more minutes of walking around and eyeing this specific ride, Morten decided we should go for just one more. It was basically a 65 meter free-fall. The car strapped us in, leaving our legs swinging in the breeze. It rose slowly to the top of the tower, hung suspensefully for a moment, then plunged to the ground, leaving our hearts and stomachs to chase us to the ground. I screamed and started laughing uncontrollably while Morten mumbled who knows what in Danish. It was our last ride of the night. There were fireworks just before the park closed, a lovely ending to a fun night.
1. Church, Amalienborg and changing of the Royal Guard
2. Harbor Cruise
3. Nyhavn
4. Rosenborg and King’s Garden
5. Round Tower
6. Thorvaldsen Museum
7. Tivoli

•Århus and Løgstør
During our last week, we drove over to the east coast of Jutland to visit Morten’s 90 year old great aunt in Århus. She made us a nice little lunch, and we had a good visit even though she and I couldn’t speak directly to each other. Then we drove to Løgstør where Morten’s sister lives. We visited the house she was in the process of purchasing, stopped by the harbour and ate dinner at her apartment.

Roadtrip/Napa Valley, April 2007

With alot to do still, I left Oregon and resumed zipping south, this time landing at Aunt Kathy and Uncle Bob's place in Napa, CA. I had not previously visited them at this location, and considering that they've lived there for many years, this was a noteworthy visit. My cousin Loren also just happened to be home from Stanford on spring break, and it was great to see him.

Since the wind wasn't right for hang-gliding, we decided to tour the Napa Valley--not a bad second choice. First we went to a beautiful art gallery with a large collection of famous pieces, then we took a drive out through the vineyards and wineries, stopping to visit Clos Pegase and Artesa. We stopped for a snack in St. Helena and took a nice walk out on Henry Road (I hope I'm getting all these names right!). We finished the day with home-grilled steaks. I had a great time! I think I'll have to go back so I can get in on the hang-gliding.

Roadtrip/Oregon, March 2007

When I'd had enough of the rain in Seattle, I packed up my little rental car and headed south for Jacksonville, OR, where I arrived in time to catch an afternoon of classes at Aunt Deb and Uncle Tom's elementary school. It was really cool to see real teachers at work. Later that night, Aunt Deb took me on a girls' night out. We, along with a few other school related women, had a great time partaking in appetizers, main courses, and desserts, all at different restaurants. We took these pictures at the dessert restaurant, a cute little place in historic Jacksonville.

By the way, thanks to a photoshop tutorial by Emily, I have fixed some of the red-eye in the previous albums.

Wyoming visit, March 2007

After spending a week in Idaho, my mom and I hopped on a plane and headed for Sheridan, Wyoming to visit my grandparents and help my grandma celebrate her 80th birthday. We took some lovely walks in the surprisingly mild March weather, had some lovely meals together, and ate lots of amazing chocolate birthday cake engineered to perfection by grandpa himself. We had a great time, and I'm very glad I had the chance to make the trip.

Family pics from March visit to the States

So I'm back. Finally.

In an effort to catch up on the past few months that are missing from my blog, I am going to post photo albums from a third party site rather than bog down my blog with hundreds of pictures. They should be easy to access, but please let me know if you have any problems. Just a note on this particular album--due to my inexperience, the pictures are in reverse chronological order. As the title says, these are family pictures from my visit to the States in March. Enjoy, and look for more posts soon!

P.S. All you have to do is click on the picture.

GO, SCHUHS!!!

In eight hours, my 63 year old dad will be running the Los Angeles Marathon. He will be running with his older brother, my uncle, who is a veteran marathoner. As I am an avid non-runner, the thought of two men more than twice my age running many, many miles both horrifies and fascinates me. To them both, I wish strong legs, lungs, minds and spirits. GO SCHUHS!!!

Laughing

I think my sister and I both possess the exact same rare 'ridiculous Schuh sister sense of humor' gene. For those of you who have ever been around the two of us for any length of time, you know that we have the ability to crack each other up over the stupidest things. True, it's not very hard to make me laugh, but nothing gets me going quite like the ridiculous Schuh sister sense of humor.

I'm sure some of you smile and even chuckle at my blog, but I wonder if anyone else sits at his or her computer and nearly busts a gut laughing like I know Em does.

I bring this up because Emily recently wrote her own blog that had ME rolling. No one else will probably understand why I think it's so funny, but I just have to link it anyway. Warning: it's not for the weak of stomach.