Sophie came to visit us last weekend from Cambridge, and we pulled out all the stops for her. We even ordered up a li'l Americana to tug at her heartstrings.
It still mystifies me how monstrously popular LINE DANCING is here in southern Denmark. Like, crazyhuge. This group was the first of many to shake it in one of the public squares that night; there were loads of off-duty line-dancers strutting around in chaps, black ten-gallon (2.64-liter?) hats and cowboy boots, thumbs hooked into beltloops accordingly. I guess it is actually just like how in the states we wear aprons and braids and go clogging to alphorn music, right?
(How many of you got that this picture is DUTCH, and not DANISH? People commonly ask me how my Dutch is coming along. In a word, terribly.)