We resume on the date of our big excursion to Helsingør, the northeastern port city that is home to Kronborg Slot, better known to the world as Hamlet’s castle, and from whose port there run constant ferries to and from the armpit of Scandinavia (Sweden).
We began our trip with a visit to Kronborg, which the Lees hadn’t seen in seven years. We no sooner entered its ramparts than the girls took on a defiant tone.
Here’s Molli Malou unwittingly paying homage to the famous Tiananmen Square icon:
We opted to skip the guided tour of the interior and content ourselves instead with a tour around the castle.
In full size, the following is actually a fun photo because you have the cuteness and frivolity of this little blonde in a summer dress and big red bow in her hair juxtaposed to the grim facade of a military castle beneath a gloomy, lowering sky. Shrunk down like this it’s not so hot.
Ditto here.
For reasons unfathomable to your faithful scrivener, the Lees were hellbent on visiting Sweden. All my protestations and arguments were in vain: a mere twenty-minute ferry ride from foreign soil was more temptation than they could bear. Before you knew it, we were on our way across the sound.
And behold! Storefront windows full of such novelty items as… back-to-school backpacks.
And let us not forget the exquisite Swedish cuisine!
(Yes, those are Happy Meals.)
Behold Helsingborg:
Beyond the novelty of being in a lesser country, the girls seemed appropriately unimpressed by Sweden. Their apathy did not extend, alas, to Swedish boys on skateboards.
After some ice-cream at the Swedish Glass Factory (inside joke), we boarded our return ferry satisfied that we had gotten all we could out of Sweden. The return trip offered not only the glorious sight of Sweden receding behind us, but the edifying vision of Kronborg from afar.
Back at the house, what else? Nintendo galore.
And some cousin-to-cousin gyng-gang.
And a late-night poker session in which Sophie took us all to school on what loose-aggressive poker playing really looks like.
The last weekend of the visit, the rain that we had avoided for most of the visit finally caught up with us. It was wet and dismal outside and the Lees had to start preparing for their departure to Paris, so we spent most of our time indoors.
Although we did enjoy some outside time when the weather cleared.
We also got to have a belated happy-birthday Skype call to Nana.
And we began having more fun with our photo ops.
Before we knew it, it was Monday morning. We had pancakes for breakfast then a late-morning snack of nachos, and suddenly it was time to say goodbye.
And that was the end of the visit.
Molli Malou has already astounded me on multiple occassions with her new vocabulary… she didn’t want to browse her pictorial animal dictionary tonight, for example, “because the flying mouse kinda freaks me out.” Needless to say, two weeks ago nothing kinda freaked her out. I was also told today that a girl at fritidshjemme was at one point “totally like, ohmygod.”
But today wasn’t really about reminiscences of days gone by, because before the Lees’ plane even took off for Paris Trine and Molli Malou had already rushed down to pick up the two newest additions to our household: the kitten siblings Emma and Charlee.
They’re both girls. Emma got her name from the big M stamped on her forehead; by Molli Malou’s own recollection, Charlee got her name “because Sophie said it would be a good name and I said I liked it, and it was my cat so I got to decide and that’s what I decided.” We went with the Charlee spelling not as another jibe at the Danish naming authorities (who have no jurisdiction over pet names, though I suppose that’s only a matter of time), but as a tribute to the part of our family that helped name her. And here is the first photograph ever taken of her in her new home:
Maddie was mesmerized and spent most of Monday afternoon and evening chasing them around the house.
Where’s Charlee, Maddie?
Molli Malou was beside herself with excitement and pride. She is totally in love with both cats.
Fresh from her own vacation in Italy, Mille came by and joined the fun.
Note: that big cat plaything, that looks like something Frank Lloyd Wright might have designed in cooperation with Dr Seuss, is not going to remain in the middle of our living room forever: we just wanted to place it somewhere obvious where the cats could learn to enjoy it before setting it aside somewhere out of the way.
The cats adapted to us magnificently. They prowled around the house for the first couple of hours, getting a sense of the place, and were affectionate from the very start. They are unintimidated by either of our own little girls, and Trine and I awoke this morning — repeatedly — to cats bounding up on our bed and leaping over and around us. Strange as it is for a dog guy to admit, I actually enjoyed it. We’ve missed having animals in our midst, and Charlee and Emma are wonderful creatures: playful, curious, energetic, enthusiastic, affectionate, and really really dumb. It already feels like we’ve had them for ever.
By Tuesday afternoon we were ready to let the cats have their first taste of the Værløse outdoors. here’s Molli Malou trying to coax them out.
Charlee is intrigued but skeptical.
Morfar calls at about this point and Trine tries to introduce him to the cats.
And next thing you know… outdoor cats!
We’re now all caught up on photos to the present. As the week progresses I plan to spend some time making movies out of all the videos of the Lee visit and feline invasion… but this is my week to relax and gather my strength for what promises to be a busy and challenging autumn, and Molli Malou’s first day of school is on Thursday, so don’t hold me to any deadlines!
Lovely, lovely. Thanks.