Podcasts about Scandinavian

Jon Henriksson is a Stockholm-based double bassist and composer who has become one of the leading voices in the contemporary Scandinavian jazz scene. Born in 1996 in Gothenburg, his path to the bass started when a high school big band director gave him just two months to learn the instrument for a Christmas concert. His 2023 debut album Harmonia placed second in Orkesterjournalen's Golden Album readers' poll, and his new album Shapeshifter drops March 20th, 2026, featuring a quartet with pianist Rasmus Sørensen, drummer Jonas Bäckman, and saxophonist Karl-Martin Almqvist. In this conversation, Jon talks about discovering bird watching and nature photography during the pandemic as a counterbalance to musical life. He shares his compositional process of improvising at the piano and layering ideas on his phone, the Swedish folk high school system that's created a vibrant jazz pipeline to Stockholm, and the jam sessions he hosts twice weekly at Stompin in Old Town. Jon explains how he writes music drawing from Brazilian influences, folk, and pop alongside jazz traditions, and why he wanted Shapeshifter to give space for his favorite musicians to express their personalities. Connect with Jon on Instagram, and listen to his music on Spotify, Apple Music, and YouTube. Connect with DBHQ Join Our Newsletter Double Bass Resources Double Bass Sheet Music Double Bass Merch Gear used to record this podcast Zoom H6 studio 8-Track 32-Bit Float Handy Recorder Rode Podmic Sony Alpha 7 IV Full-frame Mirrorless Interchangeable Lens Camera Sony FE 16-35mm F2.8 GM Lens Sony FE 24-70mm F2.8 GM Lens   When you buy a product using a link on this page, we may receive a commission at no additional cost to you. Thank you for supporting DBHQ.   Theme music by Eric Hochberg

Mads Buchardt founded Buchardt Audio with a vision of offering high-end sound and Scandinavian design at the best possible price. Known for “big sound in compact designs,” many of Buchardt's speakers are handcrafted in their woodshop in Denmark using the finest Danish oak, and their loudspeakers exemplify the minimalist aesthetic that is a hallmark of Scandinavian design.Simon talks with Mads about how Buchardt Audio is delivering on its vision by offering speakers that sound incredible, are visually stunning, and a great value.We Want to Hear from You!Have a topic, craft category, or craft company you'd like to see us cover? Email us here to share those or any other thoughts you have about CRAFTED.RELATED LINKS:Blister Craft CollectiveBecome a BLISTER+ MemberHeaven 11Floreo Coffee CoBuchardt AudioTOPICS & TIMES:Growing up with Music (6:03)Getting into Hi-Fi (8:04)Founding Buchardt Audio (9:42)Mads' First Speakers (12:08)What are Passive Radiators? (12:55)Staying Small & Running Lean (16:53)Early Challenges (18:53)Big Sound in a Compact Design (22:22)Manufacturing in Silkeborg (25:30)Buchardt's Masterpiece: the E50 (27:14)Active Speakers (43:57)What's Next for Buchardt Audio (55:36)SEE OUR OTHER PODCASTS:Blister CinematicBikes & Big IdeasGEAR:30Blister PodcastBLISTER NEWSLETTER:Get It & Our Weekly Gear Giveaways Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

A long, quiet, deeply unsettling journey through Year Walk, a folklore‑rooted mystery that feels part ghost story, part documentary, part “did this really happen?” Blair Witch energy. This playthrough ended up spanning almost four hours because we deep dive into and read everything - including the Journal at the end and all of its entries. I'll be thinking about this game for a long time. The folklore, the symbols, the creatures, the journal entries… everything feels like it's pointing to something older, sadder, and more human than a typical horror story. And when you reach the researcher's notes at the end, the whole narrative reframes itself in a way that's genuinely tragic, shocking, and leads you into a rabbit-hole of wonder. If you like slow, atmospheric mysteries, Scandinavian folklore, or stories that blur the line between myth and memory, I think you'll enjoy settling into this one with me. Thank you for walking with me through this strange, beautiful, heartbreaking little world ❤️ Developer: ⁠ ⁨@simogogames⁩ ⁠ simogo year walk, year walk gameplay, year walk full playthrough, year walk lore, year walk ending explained, year walk journal, year walk story, year walk analysis, year walk walkthrough, atmospheric horror game, folklore horror game, swedish folklore, indie horror game, cozy horror, quiet horror, narrative horror game, blair witch vibes, unsettling games, eerie games, mythic horror, atmospheric lets play, longplay, long playthrough, cozy narration, slow gaming, immersive storytelling, indie game playthrough

On this episode of Hyperion to a Satyr, Siskoid and his guest Ryan Blake discuss the 1987 Finnish film Hamlet Goes Business, a modern Noir adaptation by director Aki Kaurismäki set in the Scandinavian rubber duck industry. Listen to the episode below or subscribe to Hyperion to a Satyr on Apple Podcasts or Spotify! This podcast is a proud member of the FIRE AND WATER PODCAST NETWORK: Visit the Fire & Water WEBSITE: https://fireandwaterpodcast.com Like our Fire & Water FACEBOOK page – https://www.facebook.com/FWPodcastNetwork Support The Fire & Water Podcast Network on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/fwpodcasts Use our HASHTAG online: #FWPodcasts Credits: Theme: "Fanfare" from 1996 Hamlet, by Patrick Doyle, with clips from that film, starring Ray Fearon; the 2000 Hamlet, starring Ethan Hawke; and the 1990 Hamlet, starring Mel Gibson. Bonus clips: Star Trek's "Amok Time", starring Leonard Nimoy. Leave a comment, I love to read!

It is a privilege to welcome actor, model, and producer Jake Jensen to The Jake's Take with Jacob Elyachar Podcast.  Jake is a former professional tennis player turned actor, producer, sports psychologist, and mental health performance coach. He brings a rare blend of grit, intellect, and emotional depth to every role he inhabits – on screen and in life. His portrayal of Finn Larsen in Challengers is a profound statement of his ability to channel lived experience into cinematic authenticity. As a trash-talking Scandinavian tennis pro, Jensen's character embodies the psychological warfare and raw ambition that define the sport's most competitive tiers.  Yet Jake's story doesn't begin—or end—on the court. He holds a PhD in Sport & Performance Psychology and serves as a tenured professor at California State University, Northridge. His work with elite athletes, actors, and creatives focuses on optimizing mental performance through mindfulness, emotional regulation, and strategic mindset training. Whether coaching one-on-one or lecturing in the classroom, Jake's approach is grounded, intuitive, and transformative.  As a producer and creative collaborator, Jake is currently leading the romantic fantasy drama Believe, where he stars as a war veteran entangled in a mysterious love story with Eve from the Bible. He's also a gifted pianist and composer, scoring original work while developing new scripts that fuse psychological insight with artistic storytelling.   On this episode of The Jake's Take with Jacob Elyachar Podcast, Jake Jensen spoke about the lessons that he learned from the Challengers and King Richard sets, previewed Believe and Power 98.5's In the Actors and Athletes Studio, where he co-hosts with Steven Cuoco. Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/jake-s-take-with-jacob-elyachar--4112003/support.

Ida Victoria is a Norwegian independent sewing‑pattern designer known for creating modern, easy‑to‑follow patterns for makers of all skill levels. She's one of Norway's best designers and online retailers. Based in Jessheim, Ida designs garments for children and adults, focusing on comfort, practicality and clean Scandinavian style. Her patterns are available as both PDF and printed formats, with many translated into English for an international audience. Under IdaVictoria.no she also offers courses, sewing supplies and curated fabrics. She has built a strong creative community by sharing tutorials, inspiration and behind‑the‑scenes content, making her a well‑loved figure in Norway's growing sewing and DIY culture. You can buy Ida Victoria's sewing patterns from several official sources: 1. Her official website She offers information and links to both English and Norwegian patterns on her site.  idavictoria.com  2. Her Etsy shop (English PDF patterns) This is the main place to buy her digital patterns in English.  Etsy UK shop: idavictoria Etsy global shop: idavictoria 3. Norwegian site for Norwegian-language patterns For paper and PDF patterns in Norwegian, visit:  idavictoria.no/english  If you are able, consider supporting this podcast through our patreon account. There are 3 new tiers to choose from to support SewOver50's only podcast. Every podcast is free and the archive is gradually being uploaded on to the podcast YouTube channel. Sound with permission by Kaneef on YouTube. SewOver50 intersects with all communities. SewOver50 where we are so over ageism.  Our focus is the sewing talent each person shares on social media and providing recognition of their willingness to share their skills whether a beginner or experienced sewist. Make sure you listen to your SewOver50 friends in our SewOver50 podcast archive.  

MMM is sponsored by 321 - a new online introduction to Christianity, presented by former MMM guest Glen Scrivener. Check it out for free at 321course.com/MMM. Just enter your email, choose a password and you're in — there's no spam and no fees. Give the gift of everyday luxury and make every moment comfortable. Head to cozyearth.com and use my code COZYMMM for 20% off sitewide. And if you get a Post-Purchase Survey, be sure to mention you heard about Cozy Earth at the Maiden Mother Matriarch podcast.Testing a foetus or an embryo for some medical conditions is now a routine part of the modern pregnancy experience. Prenatal Down's Syndrome tests, for instance, are now so widespread that in some Scandinavian countries almost 100 per cent of women choose to abort a foetus diagnosed with the condition, or – if using IVF – not implant the affected embryo. The result is a visible change to these populations: there are simply no more people with Down's to be seen on the streets of Iceland and Denmark.New technology is now available – at a high price – for those who want to go further. So-called polygenic embryo screening can give a very full picture of the adult that the embryo could become, including his or her vulnerability to an enormous number of diseases – heart disease, diabetes, cancer – and also the physical and psychological traits that he or she would likely possess: height, hair colour, athletic ability, conscientiousness, altruism, intelligence. Is this a good thing? Should we welcome a world in which parents are routinely selecting their embryos in this way? I'm joined today by two guests who take a very different view. Emma Waters is a policy analyst at the Center for Technology and the Human Person at the Heritage Foundation. Her work focuses on family, biotechnology, and reproductive medicine.Jonathan Anomaly is a philosopher, author of the book 'Creating Future People: The Science and Ethics of Genetic Enhancement', and is also the director of scientific research and communication for Herasight, a genetics startup that offers polygenic embryo screening. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, Victoria sits down with Ganni's Chief Sustainability Officer, Lauren Bartley. They discuss how the brand approaches sustainability and design, as they set trends rather than following them. Lauren unpacks Ganni's transparent approach to sustainability reporting, its investment in next-generation material innovation, partnerships in resale and repair, and how the brand balances trend-setting design with long-term environmental strategy. They also explore Scandinavian sustainability culture, the importance of consistency over perfection, and why innovation is key to moving fashion forward.Follow Fashion & Founders:Podcast IG: @fashionandfoundersPodcast Substack: Fashion and FoundersPodcast Website: fashionandfounders.comPodcast TikTok: @fashionandfoundersPodcast LinkedIn: Fashion and FoundersPodcast YouTube: Fashion and FoundersPodcast Links: Shop MyFollow Ganni:IG: @ganniShop HEREThe Ganni PlaybookFollow Boii Studios:IG: @boiistudiosShop HERERent the Runway:Use code: RTRXVSMITH50 and get 50% off your first month!Thanks for listening! 

In this episode, Alan speaks with Dr Joakim Goldhahn about his journey through archaeology and rock art, from Scandinavia to Australia. Together, they explore the cosmology of Scandinavian burials linked to rock art, as well as the living traditions of rock art in Kakadu National Park and the lifeways of Indigenous Australians. Central to the discussion is a reflection on archaeological responsibility: how working outside these cultural traditions requires humility, accountability, and a commitment to building genuine, impactful relationships with Indigenous peoples and communities.TranscriptsFor a rough transcript head over to: https://www.archaeologypodcastnetwork.com/rockart/159LinksDr Joakim Goldhahn's BiographyIntroduction to Scandinavian Rock ArtKakadu National Park Rock Art‘This is my father's painting': a first hand account of the creation of the most iconic rock art in Kakadu National ParkContactDr. Alan Garfinkelavram1952@yahoo.comDr. Alan Garfinkel's WebsiteSupport Dr. Garfinkel on PatreonArchPodNetAPN Website: https://www.archpodnet.comAPN on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/archpodnetAPN on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/archpodnetAPN on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/archpodnetAPN ShopAffiliates and SponsorsMotion Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Millions of Canadians are without a family doctor or nurse practitioner in Canada. But Denmark, a country where 98 per cent of its population is attached to a primary care provider, could have some lessons for us. We travelled to the Scandinavian country to see how the Danish system works for patients and doctors, and the differences are startling.

In this episode, Alan speaks with Dr Joakim Goldhahn about his journey through archaeology and rock art, from Scandinavia to Australia. Together, they explore the cosmology of Scandinavian burials linked to rock art, as well as the living traditions of rock art in Kakadu National Park and the lifeways of Indigenous Australians. Central to the discussion is a reflection on archaeological responsibility: how working outside these cultural traditions requires humility, accountability, and a commitment to building genuine, impactful relationships with Indigenous peoples and communities.TranscriptsFor a rough transcript head over to: https://www.archaeologypodcastnetwork.com/rockart/159LinksDr Joakim Goldhahn's BiographyIntroduction to Scandinavian Rock ArtKakadu National Park Rock Art‘This is my father's painting': a first hand account of the creation of the most iconic rock art in Kakadu National ParkContactDr. Alan Garfinkelavram1952@yahoo.comDr. Alan Garfinkel's WebsiteSupport Dr. Garfinkel on PatreonArchPodNetAPN Website: https://www.archpodnet.comAPN on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/archpodnetAPN on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/archpodnetAPN on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/archpodnetAPN ShopAffiliates and SponsorsMotion Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

A retelling of Shakespeare's life through the eyes of his wife and a Scandinavian family with a communication crisis. We discuss Hamnet and Sentimental Value. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this podcast Francis Diamond and Frida Infante discuss the outlook for Sweden and Norway rate markets.   This podcast was recorded on 13 February 2026. This communication is provided for information purposes only. Institutional clients can view the related report at https://www.jpmm.com/research/content/GPS-5204805-0 for more information; please visit www.jpmm.com/research/disclosures for important disclosures. © 2026 JPMorgan Chase & Co. All rights reserved. This material or any portion hereof may not be reprinted, sold or redistributed without the written consent of J.P. Morgan. It is strictly prohibited to use or share without prior written consent from J.P. Morgan any research material received from J.P. Morgan or an authorized third-party (“J.P. Morgan Data”) in any third-party artificial intelligence (“AI”) systems or models when such J.P. Morgan Data is accessible by a third-party.

Poetry and baring the soul.Based on a post by Jorunn, in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.Arriving at her house, Leah and I carried my clothes up to the spare bedroom. I thanked Leah once again, then kissed her.Leah softly whispered, “Jorunn is downstairs!”I replied in the same whisper, “Then kiss me quietly.” And she did.I spent the remainder of the day doing my laundry, once Leah showed me how to use her Norwegian washing machine. Leah opened the clothes drying rack, and when done, I laid my clothes out to dry.For dinner, Leah prepared salmon fillets with boiled potatoes. As Jorunn and Leah washed the dishes, I sat on the center seat of the sofa, reflecting on the day. When they finished, both Jorunn and Leah rushed into the living room, extremely excited, and sat down on either side of me. Jorunn turned on the television and switched to Norwegian National Television. I wondered what the fuss was about.“Five more minutes,” yelped Jorunn.After a brief introduction, an old black-and-white movie started. Both Jorunn and Leah snuggled up tight against me and I put my arms around them. It felt great. The show, called “Dinner for One”, featured a 90-year-old countess celebrating her birthday. She invited four friends but outlived them all. Her butler decides to impersonate each of the four missing guests. As he slips into each of the roles, he drinks a toast, and quickly becomes intoxicated, leading to numerous sight gags. It felt good to laugh along with people again. It was rather short, and when it ended, Leah told me it was the most repeated television show of all time and is quite popular in Scandinavian countries and northern Europe.Leah and Jorunn went around rearranging and straightening Christmas decorations, then announced it was time to make Julekurver. I heard of them, but never actually made one. Made of paper, they are heart-shaped and filled with sweets.We quickly cleared the dining room table, then covered it with red and white paper, a plastic rule, a plastic circle, and scissor. Leah and Jorunn both moved quickly, folding a sheet of paper of each color, and I followed their action. Then it was time to measure and cut, and fortunately, they slowed down to allow me to keep up. Using a circle, we marked a half circle and cut the excess away. Then cut strips into the paper, not going all the way across. We wove the red and white papers together in a checkerboard pattern and unfolded them into a perfect heart shape. I thought the process rather inefficient and decided to show off my engineering skills from 3M by making a fancier one. As I unfolded it, Jorunn and Leah laughed, and a moment later, I discovered one way not to make a Julekurver.After a long and active day, I was tired, so I went to bed. Both Jorunn and Leah were talking softly in the living room as I drifted off to sleep.A nocturnal visitorDecember 23rd - Just Before MidnightI was startled awake when I heard my bedroom door close, followed by a soft, “Shush!”I listened closely in the total darkness for footsteps and heard someone approach my bed. Leah must be ready to resume what we started back at the hotel! A hand pulled back the covers, and instinctively I slid toward the middle of the bed to make space. Leah slid in next to me and drew the covers back over us.Leah moved and shifted, and a hand found the back of my head. I expected her lips to follow, and they did. Soft and gentle, a wonderful way for my nocturnal visitor to say hello. Leah told me at the hotel she did not want to feel rushed, so there was no urgency. Her lips retreated, and her hand slid down to caress my cheek, as delicate fingers gently stroked me.I reached out and found her left shoulder as Leah faced me, then marveled at the smoothness as my hand traced her arm downward. Approaching her hand, I extended further to touch her hip. I began softly rubbing, but her ass beckoned, and my hand moved to cup and squeeze her firm cheek. My fingers began shooting sensations of warmth, softness, and inner firmness directly to my brain. I pulled Leah tight against me and discovered she was already completely naked.Leah swung her left leg over me and moved to an upright position, straddling my crotch. Beneath my boxer shorts, my erect cock fought for release. Her hand found my cock within its shelter but did not liberate it. Instead, her hand pushed my cock flat against my lower stomach, and she slid forward, trapping it with the swollen outer lips of her pussy. Leah began slowly gyrating, and even through the fabric of my boxers, I felt her pussy lips spreading as they slid along either side of my hidden cock.The hushed sounds of Leah cooing and moaning barely reached my ears, as dampness built between us. I reached up with both hands, found her small breasts, and used my thumbs to tease her nipples to an erection. A heavy breath followed by a long ‘uh. Oh; Ah!’ brought me close to premature orgasm, but this was not what Leah wanted, so I held back.Leah must have sensed I was close. She stopped gyrating, lifted herself, and then began inching herself up my torso. She paused for a moment and sat on my chest, then her hands reached out to touch my face. Two fingertips began touring my facial features as if Leah wanted to memorize every feature of my face. In the darkness, my senses heightened, her fingers swirled, and circled, and glided over me. I never would have imagined how erotic it felt.Leah resumed moving higher, her knees passing over my shoulders until they rested on either side of my head. I reached up to confirm what lay just inches above my face and grazed the same hairy splendor I sampled back at the hotel. Inhaling deeply, I picked up traces of the same body wash on her thighs. I was ready to dive back in, so I reached up and grabbed Leah’s hips, then pulled her pussy down toward my awaiting tongue. I paused as her short curly hair began painting her scent onto my face. The scent of arousal overpowered my senses. But? Something strange? I froze. The contradiction awoke my twilight dream state.“Why did you stop, Gunnar?” From the darkness came Jorunn’s voice! The dream of Leah's nocturnal visit was replaced by the reality of a beautiful young woman revealing her devotion and desire to this 56 year old guy.I was stunned. I couldn’t reveal the real reason I stopped; was uncertainty. Jorunn’s pussy smelled different than Leah’s! I hadn’t noticed any difference between Leah’s and Jorunn’s tall, fit bodies. If there were any, they were undetectable in the darkness, especially with only my brief exposure to Leah. “I can’t do this with you, Jorunn.” I softly and sincerely spoke.“I want to make love to you tonight, Gunnar. More than anything in the world. Am I not pretty enough? Has not enough time passed since your wife’s funeral? You are the only man in the world I can love to, without fear of being hurt.”“Jorunn, you are an incredibly beautiful woman. For months, I fantasized about holding you in my arms, kissing you, and wishing to be exactly where I am now. But yesterday, I met your mother.”Jorunn asked, “Did she order you not to have sex with me?”I replied, “It’s not that. I think I’m falling in love with Leah. We spent a wonderful day together, and she swept me off my feet. If that love turns out to be mutual, I am prepared to pledge my heart totally to her and her alone. A lifetime commitment, one I will never dishonor. The only reason you and I got this far tonight is that in the darkness and my dream state, I thought you were Leah. I never would have done it otherwise.” But you are a lovely and desirable woman. I respect you and Leah. So much that I cannot be false to either of you. And I cannot dishonor myself, by doing what I know is dishonorable.”Jorunn shifted positions and lay next to me in the bed. In the darkness, Jorunn whispered, “You are so unlike my father. He always put himself first. I was ready to give myself to you tonight. You could have kept quiet and let it happen. Then lied about it to my mother in the morning. But you didn’t. You are a better man than my father ever was, and I know you will make my mother happy. Please don’t be afraid to give her, and yourself, a chance. She really needs someone like you in her life.”I heard a soft sob and reached out to touch Jorunn’s face. She was crying. Jorunn came into my bedroom tonight, looking for someone to love. She didn’t know about Leah and me, or what happened between us at the hotel. I very much doubt her mother would have told her. I admired what Jorunn just did. She was sacrificing her chance at love so that her mother might have one. Jorunn knew that she bore the duty to initiate affection, after so harshly rejecting my romantic advances, last week.Silence followed, before Jorunn finally said, “What you have shown me, Gunnar, is that there are still good men in this world. But I am still afraid to look for them.”I thought back to the day Jorunn and I went sledging. “Remember what you told me at Korketrekkeren? You don’t need to be afraid of looking for a man, Jorunn. What you need to be afraid of is being too afraid to try looking for a man. Promise me that you will push off, just like riding a sledge, and start looking. When you reach the bottom of that scary hill, you will no longer be afraid, and someone you love will be waiting there for you.”“I will, Gunnar. I promise. And thank you.” Jorunn climbed out of my bed and closed the door as she left.Christmas EveDecember 24 - MorningI woke up in the guest room bed. Hearing noises and holiday folk music in the kitchen, I dressed and went downstairs. Leah smiled and said, “God Jul!”, Norwegian's way of saying merry Christmas. Then she made me scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. Afterward, I enjoyed a slice of fruited Christmas Cake with coffee.“Leah, there is something I need to tell you. Jorunn came into my room last night looking for a man to love. In the darkness and my dream state, I thought it was you. It took a moment for me to realize it was Jorunn, and I stopped myself before going too far. Jorunn and I talked, and I confessed my love for you, to her. She understood, and asked that I give that love a chance. I want to do that. I asked Jorunn to no longer be afraid to look for love, and she agreed.”“Thank you for telling me, Gunnar. I have struggled to get Jorunn to go on dates after her father hurt her so badly. You must be a special man to find a place in her heart.”Leah sat down at the table with me, and continued; “I trust Jorunn, and now I trust you. So you will know, I will come to you tonight, bearing a lighted candle.”I said, “That sounds romantic.” My cock jolted to attention, under my trousers. I smiled and winked.Leah replied, “Wait until you see what I will be wearing.” She stood and returned to her baking, as the soft holiday music filled the busy kitchen. Leah's hips softly gyrated to the soft beat as she hummed with the lyrics.Jorunn came down later for breakfast, and after eating, she announced she would be working on edits and voiceovers for her recent videos. Since they were related to Christmas, she wanted to finish them to post them later tonight.Just before lunch, Leah led me back to the television and as we snuggled on the couch, she turned on “Tre Notter til Askepott”, a 1973 Czech reenactment of Cinderella, dubbed into Norwegian. The story was familiar, with Cinderella granted three wishes. It was enjoyable, but the dubbed dialog did not quite match the lips of the actors, so I needed to concentrate on what they were saying. Leah mentioned that this show is so popular in Norway, that storms of protest arose one year when they decided not to broadcast it. They ended up sending it out later in the holiday.Jorunn joined Leah and me for lunch. We ate Risengrynsgrot, which is rice porridge cooked with milk, sugar, and vanilla. We each had a bowl, and hiding in one of the three bowls was an almond. I suspected possible cheating such that I would be the one getting the almond, but as it turned out, Jorunn got the lucky bowl. As her prize, Leah gave Jorunn a chocolate-covered marzipan pig, an oddity for certain, but part of the tradition. There was porridge left over, and Leah said she would use it to make Riskrem, the delicious rice dessert eaten after tonight’s dinner. Solveig’s Riskrem was one of my favorite parts of the holiday season, and I was looking forward to tasting Leah’s.Leah turned to me and said, “If you want to eat, you must help in the kitchen.”Cooking was not something I knew very well, and after Leah led me into the kitchen, I let her know that. But since we were alone, I moved behind her, pulled her blonde hair aside, and nuzzled her neck.Leah said, “If you don’t stop, Gunnar, it will take longer before we eat.” But she wiggled her hips into my crotch before spinning out of my embrace.I helped Leah remove a large roasting pan from the refrigerator and put it in the oven. “That’s a strange-looking piece of meat,” I said.Leah replied, “It is called Ribbe, or roasted pork belly. It is one of the most popular Christmas meals in Norway. I scored the fat layer on top two days ago into a checkerboard pattern. Once cooked, the bottom meat stays tender while the cracklings on top get crispy.”Leah handed me a vegetable peeler and pointed to a bag of potatoes. I needed no further instructions on this. While I worked, Leah flittered around the kitchen, preparing the side dishes. She looked genuinely happy, and we talked and laughed and told tales of Christmases long ago.Just as we pulled the Ribbe from the oven, church bells began ringing from multiple sources. It was 17:00.“It seems like an odd time for church bells,” I said.Leah replied, “In Scandinavia, a new day traditionally starts at sundown, not midnight. Following the old ways, Christmas Day has arrived. It is time to eat.”Jorunn joined us in the mad flurry of activity as places were set, and food moved from the kitchen to the dining room. On the table was Ribbe, boiled potatoes, meatballs, gravy, sausages, sauerkraut, prunes, and lingonberries. Leah poured each of us a tall glass of juleøl, a dark spiced ale, brewed during Christmas all over Norway. She said at one time, a Norwegian king made it illegal to Not brew Christmas Ale. Everything was delicious, and I ate until I could stuff in no more.After dinner, we cleaned up and went into the living room to enjoy coffee, cookies, and a small bowl of Riskrem. I wondered why Leah brought out four bowls of Riskrem. Three topped with whipped cream and a berry sauce, one with only a blob of butter in the middle.Leah said, “We set out a bowl of porridge every Christmas for the fjøsnissen. The tradition evolved from the days when farming families would offer porridge to their barn elf, or nisse. The nisse takes care of the animals in the barn during winter so they don’t get sick. If you don’t do this, the fjøsnissen will play tricks on you.”As we nibbled, Jorunn set the bowl of porridge outside the front door for the fjøsnissen. Then we sat and watched an American Christmas movie on television. After it ended, Leah announced it was time to open the presents. I suspected this would happen and was glad I bought a gift for both Leah and Jorunn. We each dispersed, returned with our packages, and placed them under the Christmas tree.As expected, Leah and Jorunn shared the most gifts for each other, opening the usual mix of chocolates, clothing, and kitchen items. Then Jorunn handed me a gift from her. I opened it and found a DVD labeled, 'Christmas in Norway Tour’, along with a link and instructions to download the video if I preferred. Jorunn told me she made an hour-long video of all the things we did together over the past week, adding music and voiceovers so I would remember the now-completed tour. In exceedingly small letters, at the bottom of the instructions, I saw a link for a story with a similar name and suspected it might be one full of adjectives.Jorunn then opened my gift to her. I remembered the small camera she used this past week and bought her a new top-of-the-line digital camera. From her reaction, I did well.Leah then opened my gift to her. I purchased a genuinely nice Advent star to hang in her window, since she did not have one. It was large and electrically lit and after opening it, she wanted to hang it up right away, which we did. Then we went outside to see how it looked. Leah kissed me and whispered that the Advent Star possessed a special meaning for her this year, a sign of brighter days ahead.Seeing us standing outside, a Julenissen crossed the street and came up to us. The man, dressed in a red jacket with a matching pointed red hat, carried a cloth sack. He was older, and his white beard looked genuine.Jorunn yelled, “God Jul, Julenissen!”As the Julenissen joined us, Leah said, “Nice to see you again, Mr. Bjornstad.”The Julenissen opened a small cloth sack, pulled out a straw goat wrapped with red ribbons, and handed it to Jorunn. Leah explained that the Julenissen come around to houses on Christmas Eve to hand out presents and chocolate to the children. Often, more than one Julenissen would knock on your door during the evening. Unlike America, children get to meet the Julenissen in Norway.“It wouldn’t be the same this year without one of your julebukk!” said an excited Jorunn. Mr. Bjornstad had been coming to Jorunn’s house for a long time, and told us he likes to keep alive the old Norse traditions, such as the julebukk. In addition to handing out hand-made gifts, he tells folklore stories and tales from the days of the Vikings. What a wonderful thing to do to preserve the ancient Norse legacy of sagas and storytelling.Leah excused herself as Mr. Bjornstad started telling such a tale to Jorunn and me. He described Valhalla, where Odin and the brave warriors would train by day, and feast on roast boar and ale at night. Leah returned a moment later with four glasses of Aquavit. We toasted the season and sipped our Aquavit with the Julenissen after the story ended. We then sang a Christmas song together.Then we went back inside and watched the DVD that Jorunn made. The tour sounded exciting and full of fun, which indeed, it was. It also gave Leah another chance to see me in action. It was a full evening, and close to 23:00 when the DVD ended. We were all tired, and it was time for bed. Jorunn told us she was going upstairs to take a shower. Leah and I followed her up to our two bedrooms.A Single CandleDecember 24th - Late EveningFive minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Opening it, Leah stood there, holding a single candle, and wearing a lavender-colored silk nightgown and robe set. The half-sleeve wrap robe only partially covered her nightgown, leaving the lace-trimmed bustline and hem of her nightgown exposed. She put a finger to her mouth and whispered, “Shhh!” Then she led me by hand to her bedroom. The only light inside came from her single candle.My eyes quickly adjusted, or perhaps it was just my intent stare, “You look incredible.”Leah

Poetry and baring the soul.Based on a post by Jorunn, in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.Arriving at her house, Leah and I carried my clothes up to the spare bedroom. I thanked Leah once again, then kissed her.Leah softly whispered, “Jorunn is downstairs!”I replied in the same whisper, “Then kiss me quietly.” And she did.I spent the remainder of the day doing my laundry, once Leah showed me how to use her Norwegian washing machine. Leah opened the clothes drying rack, and when done, I laid my clothes out to dry.For dinner, Leah prepared salmon fillets with boiled potatoes. As Jorunn and Leah washed the dishes, I sat on the center seat of the sofa, reflecting on the day. When they finished, both Jorunn and Leah rushed into the living room, extremely excited, and sat down on either side of me. Jorunn turned on the television and switched to Norwegian National Television. I wondered what the fuss was about.“Five more minutes,” yelped Jorunn.After a brief introduction, an old black-and-white movie started. Both Jorunn and Leah snuggled up tight against me and I put my arms around them. It felt great. The show, called “Dinner for One”, featured a 90-year-old countess celebrating her birthday. She invited four friends but outlived them all. Her butler decides to impersonate each of the four missing guests. As he slips into each of the roles, he drinks a toast, and quickly becomes intoxicated, leading to numerous sight gags. It felt good to laugh along with people again. It was rather short, and when it ended, Leah told me it was the most repeated television show of all time and is quite popular in Scandinavian countries and northern Europe.Leah and Jorunn went around rearranging and straightening Christmas decorations, then announced it was time to make Julekurver. I heard of them, but never actually made one. Made of paper, they are heart-shaped and filled with sweets.We quickly cleared the dining room table, then covered it with red and white paper, a plastic rule, a plastic circle, and scissor. Leah and Jorunn both moved quickly, folding a sheet of paper of each color, and I followed their action. Then it was time to measure and cut, and fortunately, they slowed down to allow me to keep up. Using a circle, we marked a half circle and cut the excess away. Then cut strips into the paper, not going all the way across. We wove the red and white papers together in a checkerboard pattern and unfolded them into a perfect heart shape. I thought the process rather inefficient and decided to show off my engineering skills from 3M by making a fancier one. As I unfolded it, Jorunn and Leah laughed, and a moment later, I discovered one way not to make a Julekurver.After a long and active day, I was tired, so I went to bed. Both Jorunn and Leah were talking softly in the living room as I drifted off to sleep.A nocturnal visitorDecember 23rd - Just Before MidnightI was startled awake when I heard my bedroom door close, followed by a soft, “Shush!”I listened closely in the total darkness for footsteps and heard someone approach my bed. Leah must be ready to resume what we started back at the hotel! A hand pulled back the covers, and instinctively I slid toward the middle of the bed to make space. Leah slid in next to me and drew the covers back over us.Leah moved and shifted, and a hand found the back of my head. I expected her lips to follow, and they did. Soft and gentle, a wonderful way for my nocturnal visitor to say hello. Leah told me at the hotel she did not want to feel rushed, so there was no urgency. Her lips retreated, and her hand slid down to caress my cheek, as delicate fingers gently stroked me.I reached out and found her left shoulder as Leah faced me, then marveled at the smoothness as my hand traced her arm downward. Approaching her hand, I extended further to touch her hip. I began softly rubbing, but her ass beckoned, and my hand moved to cup and squeeze her firm cheek. My fingers began shooting sensations of warmth, softness, and inner firmness directly to my brain. I pulled Leah tight against me and discovered she was already completely naked.Leah swung her left leg over me and moved to an upright position, straddling my crotch. Beneath my boxer shorts, my erect cock fought for release. Her hand found my cock within its shelter but did not liberate it. Instead, her hand pushed my cock flat against my lower stomach, and she slid forward, trapping it with the swollen outer lips of her pussy. Leah began slowly gyrating, and even through the fabric of my boxers, I felt her pussy lips spreading as they slid along either side of my hidden cock.The hushed sounds of Leah cooing and moaning barely reached my ears, as dampness built between us. I reached up with both hands, found her small breasts, and used my thumbs to tease her nipples to an erection. A heavy breath followed by a long ‘uh. Oh; Ah!’ brought me close to premature orgasm, but this was not what Leah wanted, so I held back.Leah must have sensed I was close. She stopped gyrating, lifted herself, and then began inching herself up my torso. She paused for a moment and sat on my chest, then her hands reached out to touch my face. Two fingertips began touring my facial features as if Leah wanted to memorize every feature of my face. In the darkness, my senses heightened, her fingers swirled, and circled, and glided over me. I never would have imagined how erotic it felt.Leah resumed moving higher, her knees passing over my shoulders until they rested on either side of my head. I reached up to confirm what lay just inches above my face and grazed the same hairy splendor I sampled back at the hotel. Inhaling deeply, I picked up traces of the same body wash on her thighs. I was ready to dive back in, so I reached up and grabbed Leah’s hips, then pulled her pussy down toward my awaiting tongue. I paused as her short curly hair began painting her scent onto my face. The scent of arousal overpowered my senses. But? Something strange? I froze. The contradiction awoke my twilight dream state.“Why did you stop, Gunnar?” From the darkness came Jorunn’s voice! The dream of Leah's nocturnal visit was replaced by the reality of a beautiful young woman revealing her devotion and desire to this 56 year old guy.I was stunned. I couldn’t reveal the real reason I stopped; was uncertainty. Jorunn’s pussy smelled different than Leah’s! I hadn’t noticed any difference between Leah’s and Jorunn’s tall, fit bodies. If there were any, they were undetectable in the darkness, especially with only my brief exposure to Leah. “I can’t do this with you, Jorunn.” I softly and sincerely spoke.“I want to make love to you tonight, Gunnar. More than anything in the world. Am I not pretty enough? Has not enough time passed since your wife’s funeral? You are the only man in the world I can love to, without fear of being hurt.”“Jorunn, you are an incredibly beautiful woman. For months, I fantasized about holding you in my arms, kissing you, and wishing to be exactly where I am now. But yesterday, I met your mother.”Jorunn asked, “Did she order you not to have sex with me?”I replied, “It’s not that. I think I’m falling in love with Leah. We spent a wonderful day together, and she swept me off my feet. If that love turns out to be mutual, I am prepared to pledge my heart totally to her and her alone. A lifetime commitment, one I will never dishonor. The only reason you and I got this far tonight is that in the darkness and my dream state, I thought you were Leah. I never would have done it otherwise.” But you are a lovely and desirable woman. I respect you and Leah. So much that I cannot be false to either of you. And I cannot dishonor myself, by doing what I know is dishonorable.”Jorunn shifted positions and lay next to me in the bed. In the darkness, Jorunn whispered, “You are so unlike my father. He always put himself first. I was ready to give myself to you tonight. You could have kept quiet and let it happen. Then lied about it to my mother in the morning. But you didn’t. You are a better man than my father ever was, and I know you will make my mother happy. Please don’t be afraid to give her, and yourself, a chance. She really needs someone like you in her life.”I heard a soft sob and reached out to touch Jorunn’s face. She was crying. Jorunn came into my bedroom tonight, looking for someone to love. She didn’t know about Leah and me, or what happened between us at the hotel. I very much doubt her mother would have told her. I admired what Jorunn just did. She was sacrificing her chance at love so that her mother might have one. Jorunn knew that she bore the duty to initiate affection, after so harshly rejecting my romantic advances, last week.Silence followed, before Jorunn finally said, “What you have shown me, Gunnar, is that there are still good men in this world. But I am still afraid to look for them.”I thought back to the day Jorunn and I went sledging. “Remember what you told me at Korketrekkeren? You don’t need to be afraid of looking for a man, Jorunn. What you need to be afraid of is being too afraid to try looking for a man. Promise me that you will push off, just like riding a sledge, and start looking. When you reach the bottom of that scary hill, you will no longer be afraid, and someone you love will be waiting there for you.”“I will, Gunnar. I promise. And thank you.” Jorunn climbed out of my bed and closed the door as she left.Christmas EveDecember 24 - MorningI woke up in the guest room bed. Hearing noises and holiday folk music in the kitchen, I dressed and went downstairs. Leah smiled and said, “God Jul!”, Norwegian's way of saying merry Christmas. Then she made me scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. Afterward, I enjoyed a slice of fruited Christmas Cake with coffee.“Leah, there is something I need to tell you. Jorunn came into my room last night looking for a man to love. In the darkness and my dream state, I thought it was you. It took a moment for me to realize it was Jorunn, and I stopped myself before going too far. Jorunn and I talked, and I confessed my love for you, to her. She understood, and asked that I give that love a chance. I want to do that. I asked Jorunn to no longer be afraid to look for love, and she agreed.”“Thank you for telling me, Gunnar. I have struggled to get Jorunn to go on dates after her father hurt her so badly. You must be a special man to find a place in her heart.”Leah sat down at the table with me, and continued; “I trust Jorunn, and now I trust you. So you will know, I will come to you tonight, bearing a lighted candle.”I said, “That sounds romantic.” My cock jolted to attention, under my trousers. I smiled and winked.Leah replied, “Wait until you see what I will be wearing.” She stood and returned to her baking, as the soft holiday music filled the busy kitchen. Leah's hips softly gyrated to the soft beat as she hummed with the lyrics.Jorunn came down later for breakfast, and after eating, she announced she would be working on edits and voiceovers for her recent videos. Since they were related to Christmas, she wanted to finish them to post them later tonight.Just before lunch, Leah led me back to the television and as we snuggled on the couch, she turned on “Tre Notter til Askepott”, a 1973 Czech reenactment of Cinderella, dubbed into Norwegian. The story was familiar, with Cinderella granted three wishes. It was enjoyable, but the dubbed dialog did not quite match the lips of the actors, so I needed to concentrate on what they were saying. Leah mentioned that this show is so popular in Norway, that storms of protest arose one year when they decided not to broadcast it. They ended up sending it out later in the holiday.Jorunn joined Leah and me for lunch. We ate Risengrynsgrot, which is rice porridge cooked with milk, sugar, and vanilla. We each had a bowl, and hiding in one of the three bowls was an almond. I suspected possible cheating such that I would be the one getting the almond, but as it turned out, Jorunn got the lucky bowl. As her prize, Leah gave Jorunn a chocolate-covered marzipan pig, an oddity for certain, but part of the tradition. There was porridge left over, and Leah said she would use it to make Riskrem, the delicious rice dessert eaten after tonight’s dinner. Solveig’s Riskrem was one of my favorite parts of the holiday season, and I was looking forward to tasting Leah’s.Leah turned to me and said, “If you want to eat, you must help in the kitchen.”Cooking was not something I knew very well, and after Leah led me into the kitchen, I let her know that. But since we were alone, I moved behind her, pulled her blonde hair aside, and nuzzled her neck.Leah said, “If you don’t stop, Gunnar, it will take longer before we eat.” But she wiggled her hips into my crotch before spinning out of my embrace.I helped Leah remove a large roasting pan from the refrigerator and put it in the oven. “That’s a strange-looking piece of meat,” I said.Leah replied, “It is called Ribbe, or roasted pork belly. It is one of the most popular Christmas meals in Norway. I scored the fat layer on top two days ago into a checkerboard pattern. Once cooked, the bottom meat stays tender while the cracklings on top get crispy.”Leah handed me a vegetable peeler and pointed to a bag of potatoes. I needed no further instructions on this. While I worked, Leah flittered around the kitchen, preparing the side dishes. She looked genuinely happy, and we talked and laughed and told tales of Christmases long ago.Just as we pulled the Ribbe from the oven, church bells began ringing from multiple sources. It was 17:00.“It seems like an odd time for church bells,” I said.Leah replied, “In Scandinavia, a new day traditionally starts at sundown, not midnight. Following the old ways, Christmas Day has arrived. It is time to eat.”Jorunn joined us in the mad flurry of activity as places were set, and food moved from the kitchen to the dining room. On the table was Ribbe, boiled potatoes, meatballs, gravy, sausages, sauerkraut, prunes, and lingonberries. Leah poured each of us a tall glass of juleøl, a dark spiced ale, brewed during Christmas all over Norway. She said at one time, a Norwegian king made it illegal to Not brew Christmas Ale. Everything was delicious, and I ate until I could stuff in no more.After dinner, we cleaned up and went into the living room to enjoy coffee, cookies, and a small bowl of Riskrem. I wondered why Leah brought out four bowls of Riskrem. Three topped with whipped cream and a berry sauce, one with only a blob of butter in the middle.Leah said, “We set out a bowl of porridge every Christmas for the fjøsnissen. The tradition evolved from the days when farming families would offer porridge to their barn elf, or nisse. The nisse takes care of the animals in the barn during winter so they don’t get sick. If you don’t do this, the fjøsnissen will play tricks on you.”As we nibbled, Jorunn set the bowl of porridge outside the front door for the fjøsnissen. Then we sat and watched an American Christmas movie on television. After it ended, Leah announced it was time to open the presents. I suspected this would happen and was glad I bought a gift for both Leah and Jorunn. We each dispersed, returned with our packages, and placed them under the Christmas tree.As expected, Leah and Jorunn shared the most gifts for each other, opening the usual mix of chocolates, clothing, and kitchen items. Then Jorunn handed me a gift from her. I opened it and found a DVD labeled, 'Christmas in Norway Tour’, along with a link and instructions to download the video if I preferred. Jorunn told me she made an hour-long video of all the things we did together over the past week, adding music and voiceovers so I would remember the now-completed tour. In exceedingly small letters, at the bottom of the instructions, I saw a link for a story with a similar name and suspected it might be one full of adjectives.Jorunn then opened my gift to her. I remembered the small camera she used this past week and bought her a new top-of-the-line digital camera. From her reaction, I did well.Leah then opened my gift to her. I purchased a genuinely nice Advent star to hang in her window, since she did not have one. It was large and electrically lit and after opening it, she wanted to hang it up right away, which we did. Then we went outside to see how it looked. Leah kissed me and whispered that the Advent Star possessed a special meaning for her this year, a sign of brighter days ahead.Seeing us standing outside, a Julenissen crossed the street and came up to us. The man, dressed in a red jacket with a matching pointed red hat, carried a cloth sack. He was older, and his white beard looked genuine.Jorunn yelled, “God Jul, Julenissen!”As the Julenissen joined us, Leah said, “Nice to see you again, Mr. Bjornstad.”The Julenissen opened a small cloth sack, pulled out a straw goat wrapped with red ribbons, and handed it to Jorunn. Leah explained that the Julenissen come around to houses on Christmas Eve to hand out presents and chocolate to the children. Often, more than one Julenissen would knock on your door during the evening. Unlike America, children get to meet the Julenissen in Norway.“It wouldn’t be the same this year without one of your julebukk!” said an excited Jorunn. Mr. Bjornstad had been coming to Jorunn’s house for a long time, and told us he likes to keep alive the old Norse traditions, such as the julebukk. In addition to handing out hand-made gifts, he tells folklore stories and tales from the days of the Vikings. What a wonderful thing to do to preserve the ancient Norse legacy of sagas and storytelling.Leah excused herself as Mr. Bjornstad started telling such a tale to Jorunn and me. He described Valhalla, where Odin and the brave warriors would train by day, and feast on roast boar and ale at night. Leah returned a moment later with four glasses of Aquavit. We toasted the season and sipped our Aquavit with the Julenissen after the story ended. We then sang a Christmas song together.Then we went back inside and watched the DVD that Jorunn made. The tour sounded exciting and full of fun, which indeed, it was. It also gave Leah another chance to see me in action. It was a full evening, and close to 23:00 when the DVD ended. We were all tired, and it was time for bed. Jorunn told us she was going upstairs to take a shower. Leah and I followed her up to our two bedrooms.A Single CandleDecember 24th - Late EveningFive minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Opening it, Leah stood there, holding a single candle, and wearing a lavender-colored silk nightgown and robe set. The half-sleeve wrap robe only partially covered her nightgown, leaving the lace-trimmed bustline and hem of her nightgown exposed. She put a finger to her mouth and whispered, “Shhh!” Then she led me by hand to her bedroom. The only light inside came from her single candle.My eyes quickly adjusted, or perhaps it was just my intent stare, “You look incredible.”Leah

Poetry and baring the soul.Based on a post by Jorunn, in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.Arriving at her house, Leah and I carried my clothes up to the spare bedroom. I thanked Leah once again, then kissed her.Leah softly whispered, “Jorunn is downstairs!”I replied in the same whisper, “Then kiss me quietly.” And she did.I spent the remainder of the day doing my laundry, once Leah showed me how to use her Norwegian washing machine. Leah opened the clothes drying rack, and when done, I laid my clothes out to dry.For dinner, Leah prepared salmon fillets with boiled potatoes. As Jorunn and Leah washed the dishes, I sat on the center seat of the sofa, reflecting on the day. When they finished, both Jorunn and Leah rushed into the living room, extremely excited, and sat down on either side of me. Jorunn turned on the television and switched to Norwegian National Television. I wondered what the fuss was about.“Five more minutes,” yelped Jorunn.After a brief introduction, an old black-and-white movie started. Both Jorunn and Leah snuggled up tight against me and I put my arms around them. It felt great. The show, called “Dinner for One”, featured a 90-year-old countess celebrating her birthday. She invited four friends but outlived them all. Her butler decides to impersonate each of the four missing guests. As he slips into each of the roles, he drinks a toast, and quickly becomes intoxicated, leading to numerous sight gags. It felt good to laugh along with people again. It was rather short, and when it ended, Leah told me it was the most repeated television show of all time and is quite popular in Scandinavian countries and northern Europe.Leah and Jorunn went around rearranging and straightening Christmas decorations, then announced it was time to make Julekurver. I heard of them, but never actually made one. Made of paper, they are heart-shaped and filled with sweets.We quickly cleared the dining room table, then covered it with red and white paper, a plastic rule, a plastic circle, and scissor. Leah and Jorunn both moved quickly, folding a sheet of paper of each color, and I followed their action. Then it was time to measure and cut, and fortunately, they slowed down to allow me to keep up. Using a circle, we marked a half circle and cut the excess away. Then cut strips into the paper, not going all the way across. We wove the red and white papers together in a checkerboard pattern and unfolded them into a perfect heart shape. I thought the process rather inefficient and decided to show off my engineering skills from 3M by making a fancier one. As I unfolded it, Jorunn and Leah laughed, and a moment later, I discovered one way not to make a Julekurver.After a long and active day, I was tired, so I went to bed. Both Jorunn and Leah were talking softly in the living room as I drifted off to sleep.A nocturnal visitorDecember 23rd - Just Before MidnightI was startled awake when I heard my bedroom door close, followed by a soft, “Shush!”I listened closely in the total darkness for footsteps and heard someone approach my bed. Leah must be ready to resume what we started back at the hotel! A hand pulled back the covers, and instinctively I slid toward the middle of the bed to make space. Leah slid in next to me and drew the covers back over us.Leah moved and shifted, and a hand found the back of my head. I expected her lips to follow, and they did. Soft and gentle, a wonderful way for my nocturnal visitor to say hello. Leah told me at the hotel she did not want to feel rushed, so there was no urgency. Her lips retreated, and her hand slid down to caress my cheek, as delicate fingers gently stroked me.I reached out and found her left shoulder as Leah faced me, then marveled at the smoothness as my hand traced her arm downward. Approaching her hand, I extended further to touch her hip. I began softly rubbing, but her ass beckoned, and my hand moved to cup and squeeze her firm cheek. My fingers began shooting sensations of warmth, softness, and inner firmness directly to my brain. I pulled Leah tight against me and discovered she was already completely naked.Leah swung her left leg over me and moved to an upright position, straddling my crotch. Beneath my boxer shorts, my erect cock fought for release. Her hand found my cock within its shelter but did not liberate it. Instead, her hand pushed my cock flat against my lower stomach, and she slid forward, trapping it with the swollen outer lips of her pussy. Leah began slowly gyrating, and even through the fabric of my boxers, I felt her pussy lips spreading as they slid along either side of my hidden cock.The hushed sounds of Leah cooing and moaning barely reached my ears, as dampness built between us. I reached up with both hands, found her small breasts, and used my thumbs to tease her nipples to an erection. A heavy breath followed by a long ‘uh. Oh; Ah!’ brought me close to premature orgasm, but this was not what Leah wanted, so I held back.Leah must have sensed I was close. She stopped gyrating, lifted herself, and then began inching herself up my torso. She paused for a moment and sat on my chest, then her hands reached out to touch my face. Two fingertips began touring my facial features as if Leah wanted to memorize every feature of my face. In the darkness, my senses heightened, her fingers swirled, and circled, and glided over me. I never would have imagined how erotic it felt.Leah resumed moving higher, her knees passing over my shoulders until they rested on either side of my head. I reached up to confirm what lay just inches above my face and grazed the same hairy splendor I sampled back at the hotel. Inhaling deeply, I picked up traces of the same body wash on her thighs. I was ready to dive back in, so I reached up and grabbed Leah’s hips, then pulled her pussy down toward my awaiting tongue. I paused as her short curly hair began painting her scent onto my face. The scent of arousal overpowered my senses. But? Something strange? I froze. The contradiction awoke my twilight dream state.“Why did you stop, Gunnar?” From the darkness came Jorunn’s voice! The dream of Leah's nocturnal visit was replaced by the reality of a beautiful young woman revealing her devotion and desire to this 56 year old guy.I was stunned. I couldn’t reveal the real reason I stopped; was uncertainty. Jorunn’s pussy smelled different than Leah’s! I hadn’t noticed any difference between Leah’s and Jorunn’s tall, fit bodies. If there were any, they were undetectable in the darkness, especially with only my brief exposure to Leah. “I can’t do this with you, Jorunn.” I softly and sincerely spoke.“I want to make love to you tonight, Gunnar. More than anything in the world. Am I not pretty enough? Has not enough time passed since your wife’s funeral? You are the only man in the world I can love to, without fear of being hurt.”“Jorunn, you are an incredibly beautiful woman. For months, I fantasized about holding you in my arms, kissing you, and wishing to be exactly where I am now. But yesterday, I met your mother.”Jorunn asked, “Did she order you not to have sex with me?”I replied, “It’s not that. I think I’m falling in love with Leah. We spent a wonderful day together, and she swept me off my feet. If that love turns out to be mutual, I am prepared to pledge my heart totally to her and her alone. A lifetime commitment, one I will never dishonor. The only reason you and I got this far tonight is that in the darkness and my dream state, I thought you were Leah. I never would have done it otherwise.” But you are a lovely and desirable woman. I respect you and Leah. So much that I cannot be false to either of you. And I cannot dishonor myself, by doing what I know is dishonorable.”Jorunn shifted positions and lay next to me in the bed. In the darkness, Jorunn whispered, “You are so unlike my father. He always put himself first. I was ready to give myself to you tonight. You could have kept quiet and let it happen. Then lied about it to my mother in the morning. But you didn’t. You are a better man than my father ever was, and I know you will make my mother happy. Please don’t be afraid to give her, and yourself, a chance. She really needs someone like you in her life.”I heard a soft sob and reached out to touch Jorunn’s face. She was crying. Jorunn came into my bedroom tonight, looking for someone to love. She didn’t know about Leah and me, or what happened between us at the hotel. I very much doubt her mother would have told her. I admired what Jorunn just did. She was sacrificing her chance at love so that her mother might have one. Jorunn knew that she bore the duty to initiate affection, after so harshly rejecting my romantic advances, last week.Silence followed, before Jorunn finally said, “What you have shown me, Gunnar, is that there are still good men in this world. But I am still afraid to look for them.”I thought back to the day Jorunn and I went sledging. “Remember what you told me at Korketrekkeren? You don’t need to be afraid of looking for a man, Jorunn. What you need to be afraid of is being too afraid to try looking for a man. Promise me that you will push off, just like riding a sledge, and start looking. When you reach the bottom of that scary hill, you will no longer be afraid, and someone you love will be waiting there for you.”“I will, Gunnar. I promise. And thank you.” Jorunn climbed out of my bed and closed the door as she left.Christmas EveDecember 24 - MorningI woke up in the guest room bed. Hearing noises and holiday folk music in the kitchen, I dressed and went downstairs. Leah smiled and said, “God Jul!”, Norwegian's way of saying merry Christmas. Then she made me scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. Afterward, I enjoyed a slice of fruited Christmas Cake with coffee.“Leah, there is something I need to tell you. Jorunn came into my room last night looking for a man to love. In the darkness and my dream state, I thought it was you. It took a moment for me to realize it was Jorunn, and I stopped myself before going too far. Jorunn and I talked, and I confessed my love for you, to her. She understood, and asked that I give that love a chance. I want to do that. I asked Jorunn to no longer be afraid to look for love, and she agreed.”“Thank you for telling me, Gunnar. I have struggled to get Jorunn to go on dates after her father hurt her so badly. You must be a special man to find a place in her heart.”Leah sat down at the table with me, and continued; “I trust Jorunn, and now I trust you. So you will know, I will come to you tonight, bearing a lighted candle.”I said, “That sounds romantic.” My cock jolted to attention, under my trousers. I smiled and winked.Leah replied, “Wait until you see what I will be wearing.” She stood and returned to her baking, as the soft holiday music filled the busy kitchen. Leah's hips softly gyrated to the soft beat as she hummed with the lyrics.Jorunn came down later for breakfast, and after eating, she announced she would be working on edits and voiceovers for her recent videos. Since they were related to Christmas, she wanted to finish them to post them later tonight.Just before lunch, Leah led me back to the television and as we snuggled on the couch, she turned on “Tre Notter til Askepott”, a 1973 Czech reenactment of Cinderella, dubbed into Norwegian. The story was familiar, with Cinderella granted three wishes. It was enjoyable, but the dubbed dialog did not quite match the lips of the actors, so I needed to concentrate on what they were saying. Leah mentioned that this show is so popular in Norway, that storms of protest arose one year when they decided not to broadcast it. They ended up sending it out later in the holiday.Jorunn joined Leah and me for lunch. We ate Risengrynsgrot, which is rice porridge cooked with milk, sugar, and vanilla. We each had a bowl, and hiding in one of the three bowls was an almond. I suspected possible cheating such that I would be the one getting the almond, but as it turned out, Jorunn got the lucky bowl. As her prize, Leah gave Jorunn a chocolate-covered marzipan pig, an oddity for certain, but part of the tradition. There was porridge left over, and Leah said she would use it to make Riskrem, the delicious rice dessert eaten after tonight’s dinner. Solveig’s Riskrem was one of my favorite parts of the holiday season, and I was looking forward to tasting Leah’s.Leah turned to me and said, “If you want to eat, you must help in the kitchen.”Cooking was not something I knew very well, and after Leah led me into the kitchen, I let her know that. But since we were alone, I moved behind her, pulled her blonde hair aside, and nuzzled her neck.Leah said, “If you don’t stop, Gunnar, it will take longer before we eat.” But she wiggled her hips into my crotch before spinning out of my embrace.I helped Leah remove a large roasting pan from the refrigerator and put it in the oven. “That’s a strange-looking piece of meat,” I said.Leah replied, “It is called Ribbe, or roasted pork belly. It is one of the most popular Christmas meals in Norway. I scored the fat layer on top two days ago into a checkerboard pattern. Once cooked, the bottom meat stays tender while the cracklings on top get crispy.”Leah handed me a vegetable peeler and pointed to a bag of potatoes. I needed no further instructions on this. While I worked, Leah flittered around the kitchen, preparing the side dishes. She looked genuinely happy, and we talked and laughed and told tales of Christmases long ago.Just as we pulled the Ribbe from the oven, church bells began ringing from multiple sources. It was 17:00.“It seems like an odd time for church bells,” I said.Leah replied, “In Scandinavia, a new day traditionally starts at sundown, not midnight. Following the old ways, Christmas Day has arrived. It is time to eat.”Jorunn joined us in the mad flurry of activity as places were set, and food moved from the kitchen to the dining room. On the table was Ribbe, boiled potatoes, meatballs, gravy, sausages, sauerkraut, prunes, and lingonberries. Leah poured each of us a tall glass of juleøl, a dark spiced ale, brewed during Christmas all over Norway. She said at one time, a Norwegian king made it illegal to Not brew Christmas Ale. Everything was delicious, and I ate until I could stuff in no more.After dinner, we cleaned up and went into the living room to enjoy coffee, cookies, and a small bowl of Riskrem. I wondered why Leah brought out four bowls of Riskrem. Three topped with whipped cream and a berry sauce, one with only a blob of butter in the middle.Leah said, “We set out a bowl of porridge every Christmas for the fjøsnissen. The tradition evolved from the days when farming families would offer porridge to their barn elf, or nisse. The nisse takes care of the animals in the barn during winter so they don’t get sick. If you don’t do this, the fjøsnissen will play tricks on you.”As we nibbled, Jorunn set the bowl of porridge outside the front door for the fjøsnissen. Then we sat and watched an American Christmas movie on television. After it ended, Leah announced it was time to open the presents. I suspected this would happen and was glad I bought a gift for both Leah and Jorunn. We each dispersed, returned with our packages, and placed them under the Christmas tree.As expected, Leah and Jorunn shared the most gifts for each other, opening the usual mix of chocolates, clothing, and kitchen items. Then Jorunn handed me a gift from her. I opened it and found a DVD labeled, 'Christmas in Norway Tour’, along with a link and instructions to download the video if I preferred. Jorunn told me she made an hour-long video of all the things we did together over the past week, adding music and voiceovers so I would remember the now-completed tour. In exceedingly small letters, at the bottom of the instructions, I saw a link for a story with a similar name and suspected it might be one full of adjectives.Jorunn then opened my gift to her. I remembered the small camera she used this past week and bought her a new top-of-the-line digital camera. From her reaction, I did well.Leah then opened my gift to her. I purchased a genuinely nice Advent star to hang in her window, since she did not have one. It was large and electrically lit and after opening it, she wanted to hang it up right away, which we did. Then we went outside to see how it looked. Leah kissed me and whispered that the Advent Star possessed a special meaning for her this year, a sign of brighter days ahead.Seeing us standing outside, a Julenissen crossed the street and came up to us. The man, dressed in a red jacket with a matching pointed red hat, carried a cloth sack. He was older, and his white beard looked genuine.Jorunn yelled, “God Jul, Julenissen!”As the Julenissen joined us, Leah said, “Nice to see you again, Mr. Bjornstad.”The Julenissen opened a small cloth sack, pulled out a straw goat wrapped with red ribbons, and handed it to Jorunn. Leah explained that the Julenissen come around to houses on Christmas Eve to hand out presents and chocolate to the children. Often, more than one Julenissen would knock on your door during the evening. Unlike America, children get to meet the Julenissen in Norway.“It wouldn’t be the same this year without one of your julebukk!” said an excited Jorunn. Mr. Bjornstad had been coming to Jorunn’s house for a long time, and told us he likes to keep alive the old Norse traditions, such as the julebukk. In addition to handing out hand-made gifts, he tells folklore stories and tales from the days of the Vikings. What a wonderful thing to do to preserve the ancient Norse legacy of sagas and storytelling.Leah excused herself as Mr. Bjornstad started telling such a tale to Jorunn and me. He described Valhalla, where Odin and the brave warriors would train by day, and feast on roast boar and ale at night. Leah returned a moment later with four glasses of Aquavit. We toasted the season and sipped our Aquavit with the Julenissen after the story ended. We then sang a Christmas song together.Then we went back inside and watched the DVD that Jorunn made. The tour sounded exciting and full of fun, which indeed, it was. It also gave Leah another chance to see me in action. It was a full evening, and close to 23:00 when the DVD ended. We were all tired, and it was time for bed. Jorunn told us she was going upstairs to take a shower. Leah and I followed her up to our two bedrooms.A Single CandleDecember 24th - Late EveningFive minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Opening it, Leah stood there, holding a single candle, and wearing a lavender-colored silk nightgown and robe set. The half-sleeve wrap robe only partially covered her nightgown, leaving the lace-trimmed bustline and hem of her nightgown exposed. She put a finger to her mouth and whispered, “Shhh!” Then she led me by hand to her bedroom. The only light inside came from her single candle.My eyes quickly adjusted, or perhaps it was just my intent stare, “You look incredible.”Leah

Michelle and Louise are joined by Sweden-based mother–daughter duo Annika and Felicia Thor, members of the Danish national team. From humble beginnings with a malamute mix to World Championship gold, this conversation tracks their remarkable journey through canicross and bikejoring.   Annika shares her entry into dog-powered sports and how things ramped up when the family welcomed Scandinavian hounds into their lives. Felicia, now just 11 years old and the current ICF World Champion in her age category, reveals how she started running at 3, entered her first race at 7, and continues to train with help from mentor Martin Grimshaw of Team Hounds.   The pair dive into what training looks like (spoiler: lots of swimming and technical trails), their bond with their dogs Helium and Tosse, and how the sport keeps the whole family active and connected. Felicia shares her wisdom and drive, from managing race-day pressure to offering encouragement for other young canicrossers.   An episode full of motivation, laughter, family warmth and a global view on youth participation in dog sports.   “Just keep going and never give up.” Timings 1.10 – Living in Sweden but racing for Denmark 2.00 – How Annika and Felicia got started 5.30 – From a malamute mix to world-level competition 7.45 – Felicia's first race at age 7 9.50 – The canicross scene in Denmark and Sweden 11.30 – Meet the dogs: Helium and Tosse 14.00 – Switching to bikejoring 17.30 – Training routines for dogs and humans 20.50 – Race-day warm-up and mental prep 24.40 – Winning World Championship gold 29.00 – Keeping motivation high post-race 30.50 – Social media and inspiring others 32.00 – Advice for new and young canicrossers     Resources mentioned Felicia & Annika's Instagram: @k9trailrun Team Hounds Episode 70 with Martin from Team Hounds

Poetry and baring the soul.Based on a post by Jorunn, in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.Arriving at her house, Leah and I carried my clothes up to the spare bedroom. I thanked Leah once again, then kissed her.Leah softly whispered, “Jorunn is downstairs!”I replied in the same whisper, “Then kiss me quietly.” And she did.I spent the remainder of the day doing my laundry, once Leah showed me how to use her Norwegian washing machine. Leah opened the clothes drying rack, and when done, I laid my clothes out to dry.For dinner, Leah prepared salmon fillets with boiled potatoes. As Jorunn and Leah washed the dishes, I sat on the center seat of the sofa, reflecting on the day. When they finished, both Jorunn and Leah rushed into the living room, extremely excited, and sat down on either side of me. Jorunn turned on the television and switched to Norwegian National Television. I wondered what the fuss was about.“Five more minutes,” yelped Jorunn.After a brief introduction, an old black-and-white movie started. Both Jorunn and Leah snuggled up tight against me and I put my arms around them. It felt great. The show, called “Dinner for One”, featured a 90-year-old countess celebrating her birthday. She invited four friends but outlived them all. Her butler decides to impersonate each of the four missing guests. As he slips into each of the roles, he drinks a toast, and quickly becomes intoxicated, leading to numerous sight gags. It felt good to laugh along with people again. It was rather short, and when it ended, Leah told me it was the most repeated television show of all time and is quite popular in Scandinavian countries and northern Europe.Leah and Jorunn went around rearranging and straightening Christmas decorations, then announced it was time to make Julekurver. I heard of them, but never actually made one. Made of paper, they are heart-shaped and filled with sweets.We quickly cleared the dining room table, then covered it with red and white paper, a plastic rule, a plastic circle, and scissor. Leah and Jorunn both moved quickly, folding a sheet of paper of each color, and I followed their action. Then it was time to measure and cut, and fortunately, they slowed down to allow me to keep up. Using a circle, we marked a half circle and cut the excess away. Then cut strips into the paper, not going all the way across. We wove the red and white papers together in a checkerboard pattern and unfolded them into a perfect heart shape. I thought the process rather inefficient and decided to show off my engineering skills from 3M by making a fancier one. As I unfolded it, Jorunn and Leah laughed, and a moment later, I discovered one way not to make a Julekurver.After a long and active day, I was tired, so I went to bed. Both Jorunn and Leah were talking softly in the living room as I drifted off to sleep.A nocturnal visitorDecember 23rd - Just Before MidnightI was startled awake when I heard my bedroom door close, followed by a soft, “Shush!”I listened closely in the total darkness for footsteps and heard someone approach my bed. Leah must be ready to resume what we started back at the hotel! A hand pulled back the covers, and instinctively I slid toward the middle of the bed to make space. Leah slid in next to me and drew the covers back over us.Leah moved and shifted, and a hand found the back of my head. I expected her lips to follow, and they did. Soft and gentle, a wonderful way for my nocturnal visitor to say hello. Leah told me at the hotel she did not want to feel rushed, so there was no urgency. Her lips retreated, and her hand slid down to caress my cheek, as delicate fingers gently stroked me.I reached out and found her left shoulder as Leah faced me, then marveled at the smoothness as my hand traced her arm downward. Approaching her hand, I extended further to touch her hip. I began softly rubbing, but her ass beckoned, and my hand moved to cup and squeeze her firm cheek. My fingers began shooting sensations of warmth, softness, and inner firmness directly to my brain. I pulled Leah tight against me and discovered she was already completely naked.Leah swung her left leg over me and moved to an upright position, straddling my crotch. Beneath my boxer shorts, my erect cock fought for release. Her hand found my cock within its shelter but did not liberate it. Instead, her hand pushed my cock flat against my lower stomach, and she slid forward, trapping it with the swollen outer lips of her pussy. Leah began slowly gyrating, and even through the fabric of my boxers, I felt her pussy lips spreading as they slid along either side of my hidden cock.The hushed sounds of Leah cooing and moaning barely reached my ears, as dampness built between us. I reached up with both hands, found her small breasts, and used my thumbs to tease her nipples to an erection. A heavy breath followed by a long ‘uh. Oh; Ah!’ brought me close to premature orgasm, but this was not what Leah wanted, so I held back.Leah must have sensed I was close. She stopped gyrating, lifted herself, and then began inching herself up my torso. She paused for a moment and sat on my chest, then her hands reached out to touch my face. Two fingertips began touring my facial features as if Leah wanted to memorize every feature of my face. In the darkness, my senses heightened, her fingers swirled, and circled, and glided over me. I never would have imagined how erotic it felt.Leah resumed moving higher, her knees passing over my shoulders until they rested on either side of my head. I reached up to confirm what lay just inches above my face and grazed the same hairy splendor I sampled back at the hotel. Inhaling deeply, I picked up traces of the same body wash on her thighs. I was ready to dive back in, so I reached up and grabbed Leah’s hips, then pulled her pussy down toward my awaiting tongue. I paused as her short curly hair began painting her scent onto my face. The scent of arousal overpowered my senses. But? Something strange? I froze. The contradiction awoke my twilight dream state.“Why did you stop, Gunnar?” From the darkness came Jorunn’s voice! The dream of Leah's nocturnal visit was replaced by the reality of a beautiful young woman revealing her devotion and desire to this 56 year old guy.I was stunned. I couldn’t reveal the real reason I stopped; was uncertainty. Jorunn’s pussy smelled different than Leah’s! I hadn’t noticed any difference between Leah’s and Jorunn’s tall, fit bodies. If there were any, they were undetectable in the darkness, especially with only my brief exposure to Leah. “I can’t do this with you, Jorunn.” I softly and sincerely spoke.“I want to make love to you tonight, Gunnar. More than anything in the world. Am I not pretty enough? Has not enough time passed since your wife’s funeral? You are the only man in the world I can love to, without fear of being hurt.”“Jorunn, you are an incredibly beautiful woman. For months, I fantasized about holding you in my arms, kissing you, and wishing to be exactly where I am now. But yesterday, I met your mother.”Jorunn asked, “Did she order you not to have sex with me?”I replied, “It’s not that. I think I’m falling in love with Leah. We spent a wonderful day together, and she swept me off my feet. If that love turns out to be mutual, I am prepared to pledge my heart totally to her and her alone. A lifetime commitment, one I will never dishonor. The only reason you and I got this far tonight is that in the darkness and my dream state, I thought you were Leah. I never would have done it otherwise.” But you are a lovely and desirable woman. I respect you and Leah. So much that I cannot be false to either of you. And I cannot dishonor myself, by doing what I know is dishonorable.”Jorunn shifted positions and lay next to me in the bed. In the darkness, Jorunn whispered, “You are so unlike my father. He always put himself first. I was ready to give myself to you tonight. You could have kept quiet and let it happen. Then lied about it to my mother in the morning. But you didn’t. You are a better man than my father ever was, and I know you will make my mother happy. Please don’t be afraid to give her, and yourself, a chance. She really needs someone like you in her life.”I heard a soft sob and reached out to touch Jorunn’s face. She was crying. Jorunn came into my bedroom tonight, looking for someone to love. She didn’t know about Leah and me, or what happened between us at the hotel. I very much doubt her mother would have told her. I admired what Jorunn just did. She was sacrificing her chance at love so that her mother might have one. Jorunn knew that she bore the duty to initiate affection, after so harshly rejecting my romantic advances, last week.Silence followed, before Jorunn finally said, “What you have shown me, Gunnar, is that there are still good men in this world. But I am still afraid to look for them.”I thought back to the day Jorunn and I went sledging. “Remember what you told me at Korketrekkeren? You don’t need to be afraid of looking for a man, Jorunn. What you need to be afraid of is being too afraid to try looking for a man. Promise me that you will push off, just like riding a sledge, and start looking. When you reach the bottom of that scary hill, you will no longer be afraid, and someone you love will be waiting there for you.”“I will, Gunnar. I promise. And thank you.” Jorunn climbed out of my bed and closed the door as she left.Christmas EveDecember 24 - MorningI woke up in the guest room bed. Hearing noises and holiday folk music in the kitchen, I dressed and went downstairs. Leah smiled and said, “God Jul!”, Norwegian's way of saying merry Christmas. Then she made me scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. Afterward, I enjoyed a slice of fruited Christmas Cake with coffee.“Leah, there is something I need to tell you. Jorunn came into my room last night looking for a man to love. In the darkness and my dream state, I thought it was you. It took a moment for me to realize it was Jorunn, and I stopped myself before going too far. Jorunn and I talked, and I confessed my love for you, to her. She understood, and asked that I give that love a chance. I want to do that. I asked Jorunn to no longer be afraid to look for love, and she agreed.”“Thank you for telling me, Gunnar. I have struggled to get Jorunn to go on dates after her father hurt her so badly. You must be a special man to find a place in her heart.”Leah sat down at the table with me, and continued; “I trust Jorunn, and now I trust you. So you will know, I will come to you tonight, bearing a lighted candle.”I said, “That sounds romantic.” My cock jolted to attention, under my trousers. I smiled and winked.Leah replied, “Wait until you see what I will be wearing.” She stood and returned to her baking, as the soft holiday music filled the busy kitchen. Leah's hips softly gyrated to the soft beat as she hummed with the lyrics.Jorunn came down later for breakfast, and after eating, she announced she would be working on edits and voiceovers for her recent videos. Since they were related to Christmas, she wanted to finish them to post them later tonight.Just before lunch, Leah led me back to the television and as we snuggled on the couch, she turned on “Tre Notter til Askepott”, a 1973 Czech reenactment of Cinderella, dubbed into Norwegian. The story was familiar, with Cinderella granted three wishes. It was enjoyable, but the dubbed dialog did not quite match the lips of the actors, so I needed to concentrate on what they were saying. Leah mentioned that this show is so popular in Norway, that storms of protest arose one year when they decided not to broadcast it. They ended up sending it out later in the holiday.Jorunn joined Leah and me for lunch. We ate Risengrynsgrot, which is rice porridge cooked with milk, sugar, and vanilla. We each had a bowl, and hiding in one of the three bowls was an almond. I suspected possible cheating such that I would be the one getting the almond, but as it turned out, Jorunn got the lucky bowl. As her prize, Leah gave Jorunn a chocolate-covered marzipan pig, an oddity for certain, but part of the tradition. There was porridge left over, and Leah said she would use it to make Riskrem, the delicious rice dessert eaten after tonight’s dinner. Solveig’s Riskrem was one of my favorite parts of the holiday season, and I was looking forward to tasting Leah’s.Leah turned to me and said, “If you want to eat, you must help in the kitchen.”Cooking was not something I knew very well, and after Leah led me into the kitchen, I let her know that. But since we were alone, I moved behind her, pulled her blonde hair aside, and nuzzled her neck.Leah said, “If you don’t stop, Gunnar, it will take longer before we eat.” But she wiggled her hips into my crotch before spinning out of my embrace.I helped Leah remove a large roasting pan from the refrigerator and put it in the oven. “That’s a strange-looking piece of meat,” I said.Leah replied, “It is called Ribbe, or roasted pork belly. It is one of the most popular Christmas meals in Norway. I scored the fat layer on top two days ago into a checkerboard pattern. Once cooked, the bottom meat stays tender while the cracklings on top get crispy.”Leah handed me a vegetable peeler and pointed to a bag of potatoes. I needed no further instructions on this. While I worked, Leah flittered around the kitchen, preparing the side dishes. She looked genuinely happy, and we talked and laughed and told tales of Christmases long ago.Just as we pulled the Ribbe from the oven, church bells began ringing from multiple sources. It was 17:00.“It seems like an odd time for church bells,” I said.Leah replied, “In Scandinavia, a new day traditionally starts at sundown, not midnight. Following the old ways, Christmas Day has arrived. It is time to eat.”Jorunn joined us in the mad flurry of activity as places were set, and food moved from the kitchen to the dining room. On the table was Ribbe, boiled potatoes, meatballs, gravy, sausages, sauerkraut, prunes, and lingonberries. Leah poured each of us a tall glass of juleøl, a dark spiced ale, brewed during Christmas all over Norway. She said at one time, a Norwegian king made it illegal to Not brew Christmas Ale. Everything was delicious, and I ate until I could stuff in no more.After dinner, we cleaned up and went into the living room to enjoy coffee, cookies, and a small bowl of Riskrem. I wondered why Leah brought out four bowls of Riskrem. Three topped with whipped cream and a berry sauce, one with only a blob of butter in the middle.Leah said, “We set out a bowl of porridge every Christmas for the fjøsnissen. The tradition evolved from the days when farming families would offer porridge to their barn elf, or nisse. The nisse takes care of the animals in the barn during winter so they don’t get sick. If you don’t do this, the fjøsnissen will play tricks on you.”As we nibbled, Jorunn set the bowl of porridge outside the front door for the fjøsnissen. Then we sat and watched an American Christmas movie on television. After it ended, Leah announced it was time to open the presents. I suspected this would happen and was glad I bought a gift for both Leah and Jorunn. We each dispersed, returned with our packages, and placed them under the Christmas tree.As expected, Leah and Jorunn shared the most gifts for each other, opening the usual mix of chocolates, clothing, and kitchen items. Then Jorunn handed me a gift from her. I opened it and found a DVD labeled, 'Christmas in Norway Tour’, along with a link and instructions to download the video if I preferred. Jorunn told me she made an hour-long video of all the things we did together over the past week, adding music and voiceovers so I would remember the now-completed tour. In exceedingly small letters, at the bottom of the instructions, I saw a link for a story with a similar name and suspected it might be one full of adjectives.Jorunn then opened my gift to her. I remembered the small camera she used this past week and bought her a new top-of-the-line digital camera. From her reaction, I did well.Leah then opened my gift to her. I purchased a genuinely nice Advent star to hang in her window, since she did not have one. It was large and electrically lit and after opening it, she wanted to hang it up right away, which we did. Then we went outside to see how it looked. Leah kissed me and whispered that the Advent Star possessed a special meaning for her this year, a sign of brighter days ahead.Seeing us standing outside, a Julenissen crossed the street and came up to us. The man, dressed in a red jacket with a matching pointed red hat, carried a cloth sack. He was older, and his white beard looked genuine.Jorunn yelled, “God Jul, Julenissen!”As the Julenissen joined us, Leah said, “Nice to see you again, Mr. Bjornstad.”The Julenissen opened a small cloth sack, pulled out a straw goat wrapped with red ribbons, and handed it to Jorunn. Leah explained that the Julenissen come around to houses on Christmas Eve to hand out presents and chocolate to the children. Often, more than one Julenissen would knock on your door during the evening. Unlike America, children get to meet the Julenissen in Norway.“It wouldn’t be the same this year without one of your julebukk!” said an excited Jorunn. Mr. Bjornstad had been coming to Jorunn’s house for a long time, and told us he likes to keep alive the old Norse traditions, such as the julebukk. In addition to handing out hand-made gifts, he tells folklore stories and tales from the days of the Vikings. What a wonderful thing to do to preserve the ancient Norse legacy of sagas and storytelling.Leah excused herself as Mr. Bjornstad started telling such a tale to Jorunn and me. He described Valhalla, where Odin and the brave warriors would train by day, and feast on roast boar and ale at night. Leah returned a moment later with four glasses of Aquavit. We toasted the season and sipped our Aquavit with the Julenissen after the story ended. We then sang a Christmas song together.Then we went back inside and watched the DVD that Jorunn made. The tour sounded exciting and full of fun, which indeed, it was. It also gave Leah another chance to see me in action. It was a full evening, and close to 23:00 when the DVD ended. We were all tired, and it was time for bed. Jorunn told us she was going upstairs to take a shower. Leah and I followed her up to our two bedrooms.A Single CandleDecember 24th - Late EveningFive minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Opening it, Leah stood there, holding a single candle, and wearing a lavender-colored silk nightgown and robe set. The half-sleeve wrap robe only partially covered her nightgown, leaving the lace-trimmed bustline and hem of her nightgown exposed. She put a finger to her mouth and whispered, “Shhh!” Then she led me by hand to her bedroom. The only light inside came from her single candle.My eyes quickly adjusted, or perhaps it was just my intent stare, “You look incredible.”Leah

In this episode, we speak with old pal Joerg Frauendiener of Doping the Void about German punk, Scandinavian rock bands, choosing the bass over the flute, and the difference between touring in the USA versus Europe. Plus, the Black Forest and love of cuckoo clocks.You can check out Doping the Void at the following locations:https://www.facebook.com/DopingTheVoid/https://www.instagram.com/dopingthevoid/https://punkaroundandfindout.com/2024/03/13/doping-the-void-ungeheuer/Paul works a day job and puts out vinyl and puts on shows via ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Katzulhu Productions⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.facebook.com/paul.neil.12⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.facebook.com/katzulhu⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.facebook.com/Dont-Quit-Your-Day-Job-podcast-107924851339602⁠

Brage, Mikael and Rudy sit down to talk about Scandinavian social democracy, with a focus on Norway and Sweden. We discuss the periodization of social democracy, starting from the 1905 independence of Norway, through the first World War period, the rise of social democracy in the interwar period, the golden years and the unraveling. We discuss why social democracy was able to take hold in Scandinavia through several historic compromises, what the economics of the countries were, the limits of the politics and how the parties tried to transcend these limits, before concluding with the unraveling of the politics in the 80s. Bibliography: G. Esping-Andersen - Politics Against Markets: The Social Democratic Road to Power W. Korpi - The Democratic Class Struggle K. Ostbjerg - Rise and Fall of Swedish Social Democracy J. Pontusson - The Limits of Social Democracy: Investment Politics in Sweden M. Rasmussen, C. H. Knutsen - Reforming to Survive: The Bolshevik Origins of Social Policies F. Sejersted, M. Adams - The Age of Social Democracy

This week on Better Buildings for Humans, host Joe Menchefski sits down with award-winning architect Scott Gustafson of Harley Ellis Devereaux for a fascinating look at the intersection of science, sustainability, and beautiful design. As a leader in the Science and Advanced Manufacturing sector, Scott shares how labs and factories—often overlooked in architectural discourse—can become inspiring, human-centered spaces.From incorporating skylights into precision manufacturing plants to leveraging mass timber for rapid construction and biophilic impact, Scott reveals how even the most technical buildings can promote wellness, retention, and resilience. He also opens up about his love for Scandinavian modernism, his teaching role at Lawrence Technological University, and why architecture should be built to last, not follow trends.This episode is a must-listen for anyone who believes that great design belongs everywhere—even on the factory floor.More About Scott GustafsonScott Gustafson is an architect living and working in the Detroit metro area. He works for HED, an integrated architecture and engineering firm founded in Detroit in the early 1900s.Originally from outside Chicago, Scott studied architecture at Kansas State University from 1994 to 1999. It was his uncle—also an architect and a KSU alumnus—who inspired him to pursue the same path.After earning his degree, Scott gained diverse professional experience by working in Arizona, Colorado, and California. His time with small and medium-sized firms in those states exposed him to a wide range of project types and professional practice styles.Since relocating to Michigan in 2017, Scott has contributed significantly to the architectural community. He has served on the Michigan Board of Architects, taught part-time at Lawrence Technological University, and held leadership roles—including vice-president, president, and past president—in the Huron Valley chapter of the American Institute of Architects. He also served on his local planning commission. Each of these roles has allowed him to apply his architectural skills in meaningful ways that benefit the community.Scott's passion lies in creating buildings and spaces that engage all of the human senses. He believes that since people spend so much of their lives in designed environments, both indoors and out, those spaces should uplift rather than diminish the human experience. Poor lighting, jarring sounds, uncomfortable furniture, unattractive signage, and cheap materials can all erode a person's sense of well-being and dignity. Scott strives to design environments that make people feel comfortable, welcomed, cared for, and loved—spaces where they can do their best work, build meaningful relationships, and feel at peace.He is a registered architect in the states of Arizona, California, and Michigan, as well as in the countries of Denmark, Iceland, and Sweden.Contact:https://hed.co/https://www.instagram.com/hedadvances/https://www.instagram.com/scottmbgustafson/https://www.threads.com/@scottmbgustafsonhttps://www.linkedin.com/in/scottmbgustafson/Where To Find Us:https://bbfhpod.advancedglazings.com/www.advancedglazings.comhttps://www.linkedin.com/company/better-buildings-for-humans-podcastwww.linkedin.com/in/advanced-glazings-ltd-848b4625https://twitter.com/bbfhpodhttps://twitter.com/Solera_Daylighthttps://www.instagram.com/bbfhpod/https://www.instagram.com/advancedglazingsltdhttps://www.facebook.com/AdvancedGlazingsltd

This week Seth and Josh welcome Nikolaj Coster-Waldau to the podcast! He shares all about his upbringing in Denmark, family trips to Spain in a Fiat 600, his adventures hosting a travel documentary series, the cultural nuances of Scandinavian countries, his love for Greenland, and so much more! Plus, he chats about Season 2 of “The Last Thing He Told Me” on Apple TV and Season 2 of his docuseries, “An Optimists Guide To The Planet. Watch more Family Trips episodes: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLlqYOfxU_jQem4_NRJPM8_wLBrEEQ17B6 Support our sponsors: DeleteMe Get 20% off your DeleteMe plan when you go to https://joindeleteme.com/ TRIPS and use promo code TRIPS at checkout. WildGrain Wildgrain is offering our listeners $30 off your first box - PLUS free Croissants for life - when you go to https://Wildgrain.com/TRIPS to start your subscription today. Fitbod Level up your workout in the new year. Join Fitbod today to get your personalized workout plan. Get 25% off your subscription or try the app FREE for seven days at https://Fitbod.me/trip Shipt Download the app or order now at https://shipt.com Marley Spoon This new year, fast-track your way to eating well with Marley Spoon. Head to https://marleyspoon.com/offer/trips for up to 25 FREE meals! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Often seen as the gold standard for societal resilience, Finland has many admirers. The Secretary General of its Security Committee, Petteri Korvala, describes Finland's approach. Many nations are exploring how to build societal resilience as part of a comprehensive approach to security. The Scandinavian countries are often seen as exemplars of best practice, with Finland arguably leading the pack. But delivering resilience through comprehensive security requires trust across all elements of society and a cultural shift as much as it needs the right structures and processes. In this episode, we hear from the Secretary General of Finland's Security Committee, Petteri Korvala, about how their comprehensive security system works. Petteri Korvala has over 30 years of experience in Finland's defence forces and internationally, including in the Ministry of Defence and in Finland's Permanent Representation to the European Union, as well as having served as a liaison officer in United States European Command. Further Reading: Finnish Government, Security Strategy for Society: Government Resolution, 2025:3, available at https://julkaisut.valtioneuvosto.fi/items/0126122a-1e8a-4ffa-9868-6286292efc01 Vesa Valtonen & Minna Branders, 'Tracing the Finnish Comprehensive Security Model', in Sebastian Larsson & Mark Rhinard (eds.), Nordic Societal Security, Routledge, 2020, pp.91-108. Available at: https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/oa-edit/10.4324/9781003045533-7/tracing-finnish-comprehensive-security-model-vesa-valtonen-minna-branders. Ari-Elmeri Hyvönen & Tapio Juntunen, 'From "spiritual defence" to robust resilience in the Finnish comprehensive security model', in Sebastian Larsson & Mark Rhinard (eds.), Nordic Societal Security Routledge, 2020, pp.154–178. Tom Woolmore, The Porcupine and the Hedgehog: The Influence of Finland's Comprehensive Security Model on the British Whole-of-Society Approach, King's College London Master's Dissertation, 2025, available at: https://turvallisuuskomitea.fi/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/MA-Thesis-Thomas-Woolmore.pdf Andrew Sharples (London School of Economics and Political Science): From Bowling Alone to Fighting Together: Social Capital and Whole-of-Society Defence.

Originally Aired February 9, 2026: Dr. P answers medical questions. Thunder box. Everything you wanna know about giving kids chewable laxatives. Listen & subscribe to the show on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or Amazon Music. For more, visit https://www.93x.com/half-assed-morning-show/Follow the Half-Assed Morning Show:Twitter/X: @93XHAMSFacebook: @93XHAMSInstagram: @93XHAMSEmail the show: HAMS93X@gmail.com See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In the brutal winter of 1933–1934, mysterious “Ghost Fliers” terrorized the skies over Sweden, Norway, and Finland. These unmarked aircraft flew low through raging blizzards and dense fog — conditions that grounded every conventional plane — shining powerful searchlights over remote villages, railways, and military forts. Eyewitnesses, including soldiers and lighthouse keepers, described silent or intermittently silent engines, impossible maneuvers, and craft that appeared and vanished without trace.MF Thomas opens this gripping episode of My Dark Path with a haunting 1910 precursor: a sleek, black phantom biplane circling New York's illuminated Metropolitan Tower at night, performing death-defying stunts that defied the era's primitive aviation. From there, the phenomenon explodes into hundreds of documented sightings across Scandinavia.Governments launched massive investigations. The Swedish military reviewed 487 reports and deemed dozens credible and unexplained. Newspapers were censored. Search parties scoured snowy mountains on skis. Landings were reported. One aircraft allegedly crashed on a remote Norwegian peak — witnesses saw figures clearing snow, heard engines restart, then found nothing but strange tracks in the snow.Were these secret Soviet, German, or Japanese spy planes? Or something far stranger — early UAPs and the direct predecessors of modern UFO encounters?Drawing on rare newspaper accounts and John A. Keel's definitive research, this episode examines one of the largest and most overlooked aerial mysteries of the 20th century.If you love aviation history, unsolved UFO cases, and true fringe mysteries, this one will keep you up at nightRead MF Thomas' novels Like Clockwork https://amzn.to/417lOzyArcade https://amzn.to/4aTpisxA Sickness in Time https://amzn.to/41apSPKSeeing by Moonlight ...

Some toy trends make sense, like the fascination with Lego or even Barbie-mania, which naturally enjoyed the boost from the 2023 film. The fad for trolls, however, doesn't immediately make sense. These strange plastic figures with staring eyes and wild hair don't really do much…but that has never stopped people wanting them. This month is going to be all about children's folklore, and that led me onto thinking about toys. While the folklore of toys might have seemed more obvious, troll dolls give us the chance to explore toys related to folklore. So let's explore where troll dolls came from, and how trolls themselves appear in Scandinavian myth and folklore in this week's episode of Fabulous Folklore. Find the blog post with all the images and references here: https://www.icysedgwick.com/trolls-in-folklore/ Check out my new book about love magic in folklore, Bring Me Love: https://www.icysedgwick.com/book/bring-me-love/ Get your free guide to home protection the folklore way here: https://www.icysedgwick.com/fab-folklore/ Become a member of the Fabulous Folklore Family for bonus episodes and articles at https://patreon.com/bePatron?u=2380595 Get weekly articles and bonus content at Substack: https://fabulousfolklore.substack.com/ Buy Icy a coffee or sign up for bonus episodes at: https://ko-fi.com/icysedgwick Fabulous Folklore Bookshop: https://uk.bookshop.org/shop/fabulous_folklore Pre-recorded illustrated talks: https://ko-fi.com/icysedgwick/shop Request an episode: https://forms.gle/gqG7xQNLfbMg1mDv7 Get extra snippets of folklore on Instagram at https://instagram.com/icysedgwick Find Icy on BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/icysedgwick.bsky.social 'Like' Fabulous Folklore on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/fabulousfolklore/

Few people know the transfer market better than Claire Rafferty. In her role at TransferRoom, she's spoken to clubs all over Europe and beyond about what they want, who they want and (crucially) how much they want to pay or earn.Claire joins Chloe and Rachel to reveal what's really going on in the transfer market: from commercially-driven signings, to the ever-growing number of Scandinavian players coming to the WSL, and the impact of no major tournament this summer.And as the spending in women's football keeps rising, will the numbers just keep going up? Plus, Chloe wants to know her own transfer value.Follow us on X, Instagram, TikTok and YouTube! Email us show@upfrontpod.com.For ad-free episodes and much more from across our football shows, head over to the Football Ramble Patreon and subscribe: patreon.com/footballramble.**Please rate and review us on Apple, Spotify or wherever you get your pods. It means a lot and makes it easy for other people to find us. Thank you!** Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Forensic geologist Scott Wolter joins the Matt Beall Podcast to examine the controversial evidence behind the Kensington Runestone, the Knights Templar, and the growing theory that Scandinavians reached North America before Columbus.  From forensic geology and medieval history to the Newport Tower and hidden exploration narratives, this episode explores the clues, the debates, and the questions that continue to challenge mainstream timelines. If you're fascinated by ancient mysteries, historical investigations, and alternative perspectives on early America, this deep-dive conversation is one you won't want to miss.  Follow Matt Beall Limitless: https://x.com/MattBeallPodhttps://x.com/MBeallX https://www.tiktok.com/@mattbeallpodhttps://www.instagram.com/mattbeallpodcast/https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61556879741320 Check out our Shorts & ClipsShorts Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@MattBeallShortsClip Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@MattBeallClips  Listen Everywhere: YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@MattBeallPodcastApple:https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/matt-beall-limitless/id1712917413  Rumble: https://rumble.com/c/c-6727221 Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/c/MattBeallPodcast Check out Scott Wolter:https://scottfwolter.com/https://x.com/RealScottWolterhttps://www.youtube.com/@ScottWolterHookedXhttps://www.tiktok.com/@scottwolterhookedxhttps://www.instagram.com/wolterscott/ Timeline:00:00:00              Introductions00:03:08              Kensington Runestone00:34:34              The Knights Templar00:42:38              Can the Runestone Challenge the Church?00:54:45              Becoming a Freemason00:57:06              Disrupting a Narrative01:21:53              Ancient Egyptian Vases01:26:36              Newport Tower01:53:26              Spirit Pond Stones02:09:32              The Green Jar Contents02:57:54              When can we learn more?03:04:40              Closing #MattBeallPodcast #ScottWolter #KnightsTemplar #KensingtonRunestone#NewportTower #BeforeColumbus #VikingsInAmerica #HiddenHistory#AncientMysteries #AlternativeHistory #HistoryPodcast #ForensicGeology#MedievalHistory #TemplarHistory #ScandinavianExplorers #AncientAmerica#ExplorationHistory #PodcastClips #YouTubePodcast #HistoricalInvestigation The views and opinions expressed on this podcast are notnecessarily the views of the host or of any business related to the host.

Steve welcome Danish school teacher Qiriye to discuss haunted castles, the fae, and more from Scandinavian region.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/missing-persons-mysteries--5624803/support.

Full Text of Readings The Saint of the day is Saint Ansgar Saint Ansgar's Story The “apostle of the north” (Scandinavia) had enough frustrations to become a saint—and he did. He became a Benedictine at Corbie, France, where he had been educated. Three years later, when the king of Denmark became a convert, Ansgar went to that country for three years of missionary work, without noticeable success. Sweden asked for Christian missionaries, and he went there, suffering capture by pirates and other hardships on the way. Fewer than two years later, he was recalled, to become abbot of New Corbie (Corvey) and bishop of Hamburg. The pope made him legate for the Scandinavian missions. Funds for the northern apostolate stopped with Emperor Louis's death. After 13 years' work in Hamburg, Saint Ansgar saw it burned to the ground by invading Northmen; Sweden and Denmark returned to paganism. He directed new apostolic activities in the North, traveling to Denmark and being instrumental in the conversion of another king. By the strange device of casting lots, the king of Sweden allowed the Christian missionaries to return. Saint Ansgar's biographers remark that he was an extraordinary preacher, a humble and ascetical priest. He was devoted to the poor and the sick, imitating the Lord in washing their feet and waiting on them at table. He died peacefully at Bremen, Germany, without achieving his wish to be a martyr. Sweden became pagan again after his death, and remained so until the coming of missionaries two centuries later. Saint Ansgar shares the celebration of his liturgical feast with Saint Blase on February 3. Reflection History records what people do, rather than what they are. Yet the courage and perseverance of men and women like Ansgar can only come from a solid base of union with the original courageous and persevering Missionary. Ansgar's life is another reminder that God writes straight with crooked lines. Christ takes care of the effects of the apostolate in his own way; he is first concerned about the purity of the apostles themselves.Saint of the Day, Copyright Franciscan Media

This week on America on the Road, Jack Nerad puts Mazda's new 2026 CX-70 Turbo S Premium to the test, while Chris Teague drives Volvo's smallest and quickest electric SUV, the 2026 Volvo EX30. Jack and Chris also break down the top stories shaping today's car market, from Tesla's big shift in the way it charges for driver-assistance features to Volvo's bold claim that its new EX60 electric SUV can finally put range anxiety to rest. In addition, the show digs into the growing strain of auto loan debt across generations and a controversial federal court ruling that requires that taxpayer funds be spent on electric-vehicle infrastructure.

Hello Interactors,Minnesota has seen federal incursion and overreach before. And not just in 2020. These removal tests we're witnessing are rooted in the premise of US ‘manifest destiny' and how quickly the notion of ‘home' can be made fungible by a violent state. But likeminded bodies always resist being bullied.SCAFFOLD, SOVEREIGNTY, AND SEIZUREOn December 26, 1862, during the Civil War, President Abraham Lincoln authorized the hanging of 38 Dakota men in Mankato, Minnesota. The execution, staged as public theater, was not a solemn judicial act. A special scaffold was built, martial law was declared, and an estimated 4,000 spectators witnessed the largest mass execution in U.S. history. The spectacle mattered because it carried meaning beyond Mankato. The hanging marked the end of the six-week U.S.–Dakota War of 1862. This brutal conflict devastated the Minnesota River Valley and left deep trauma in Dakota communities. It also conveyed that the state could swiftly and effectively attempt control of contested land by violent force.Mankato was the visible climax, but Fort Snelling was the quieter cruelty that continued. After the war, Dakota families — women, children, elders — were confined in harsh conditions near the fort during the winter of 1862–63. Disease and exposure killed between 130 and 300 Dakota people. Execution and exile worked together. One provided public power, the other attempted to ensure territorial outcomes.Here's what Dakota Chief Wabasha's son-in-law, Hdainyanka, wrote to him shortly before his execution:“You have deceived me. You told me that if we followed the advice of General Sibley, and gave ourselves up to the whites, all would be well; no innocent man would be injured. I have not killed, wounded or injured a white man, or any white persons. I have not participated in the plunder of their property; and yet to-day I am set apart for execution, and must die in a few days, while men who are guilty will remain in prison. My wife is your daughter, my children are your grandchildren. I leave them all in your care and under your protection. Do not let them suffer; and when my children are grown up, let them know that their father died because he followed the advice of his chief, and without having the blood of a white man to answer for to the Great Spirit.”This moral failing was part of a larger burgeoning political economy. In 1862, the Twin Cities were still emerging, with mills, river commerce, and infrastructure. Yet the region's future as an urban, financial, and political center depended on converting Dakota and Ojibwe homelands into transferable property. The spring prior to the massacre, in May 1862, Lincoln signed the Homestead Act, handing out 160-acre chunks of stolen land labeled now as “public.” Colonizers and immigrants could occupy this land, and be defended by the US government, if they showed they could “improve” it through five years of occupation.This act negated all Dakota treaties, seized 24 million acres of Minnesota lands, and mandated removal of what were now called Dakota “outlaws.” This converted communal Indigenous homelands into surveyed “public domain” eligible for homesteading, auctions, and rail grants, directly feeding wheat production for Minneapolis mills. Speculators and railroads exploited the act via proxy filings, reselling “cleared” parcels at profit to European immigrants.By 1870, non-Native population surged from 172,000 to over 439,000. The “clearing” of land was not metaphorical. It was the prerequisite for surveying, fencing, settlement, rail corridors, and the wider commodity circuits that would bind the Upper Midwest to national and global markets.That is what Harvard historian Sven Beckert calls war capitalism. He argues that global capitalism's ascent was not a clean evolution toward free exchange. It relied on coercion, conquest, and violence. As his book on the history of Capitalism lays out, state funded war capitalism fundamentally relied on slavery, the dispossession of Indigenous peoples, imperial expansion, armed commerce, and the imposition of sovereignty over both people and territory. In this framing, the Dakota and Ojibwe were obstacles to industrialization and commodification. The frontier needed to be safe for settlement and investment of Germans, Irish, and Scandinavians, as well as railroads and industry. This included these two flour mills, the world's largest by 1880: General Mills and Pillsbury.The gallows in Mankato were the blunt instrument that made the state-capital alliance credible. The point was not only to punish alleged crimes, but to demonstrate a capacity and will to kill. The American state needed to show it could override Indigenous sovereignty and reorder space. The subsequent removals and confinement at Fort Snelling completed the transformation. “Home” was recoded from relationship into asset. This land was no longer lived geography but extractable territory, from stewarding real soil to the selling of real estate.TOPHOPHILIA, TIES, AND TENSIONSWar capitalism is not merely to punish resistance, but to convert a lived place into a fungible asset. But violence plays a deeper role than just legal rearrangement. It has to break this constant of human life: our attachment to place.Behavioral geographer Yi-Fu Tuan borrowed the term topophilia to describe this attachment — the “affective bond between people and place or setting.” The phrase can sound soft and sentimental but it can also cause friction in projects of political economy.The state may be able to abolish or rewrite a treaty, redraw a border, rename a river, and issue new deeds, but it still confronts bodies that have been oriented by firm ground. It's on these grounds that paths are walked, food gathered, relatives buried, stories anchored to landmarks, and seasonal rhythms internalized as a habit of life. The obstacle is embedded and embodied in the physiology, including cognitive, and grounds to location.Modern neuroscience gives a concrete account of how place becomes part of a person. The hippocampus plays a central role in spatial memory and navigation, and research on place cells shows that hippocampal neurons fire in relation to specific locations in an environment. Familiar surroundings are not only around us they are within us. The brain builds spatial scaffolding that links location to memory, routine, prediction, and emotional regulation.When cognition is tied to the specificity of place, it becomes hard for a parcel to be made equivalent to another. Commodification demands interchangeability. A home cannot easily be made equivalent to another home when it's part of the nervous system — not quickly, not cleanly, and often not at all. When the state-capital alliance imagines territory as a grid of extractable value, it is implicitly trying to override how humans experience territory. That is why “simple” displacement so often produces disproportionate harm. Psychiatrist Mindy Fullilove coined the term root shock to describe the traumatic stress that follows the destruction of one's “emotional ecosystem.” Root shock is not only grief or nostalgia. It is a stress response to the sudden loss of the social and spatial cues that stabilize daily life. The shredding of a mesh of relationships, routines, and meanings embedded in a neighborhood or homeland.The root shock of the state violence of 1862 was not just incidental to the project of transformation. It was structurally necessary. If topophilia is a biological and psychological anchor, then a purely legal or economic strategy (bureaucratic coercion) will often be insufficient because the anchor of topophilia holds. To clear land at speed and scale, the state reaches for tools that can sever attachment abruptly. Public executions, mass incarceration, forced marches, and exile doesn't just relocate people. They're violent attempts to scramble the conditions under which people can remain attached at all. It transforms topophilia into vulnerability.Work on social exclusion and “social pain” helps explain why. In a widely cited fMRI study, Naomi Eisenberger and colleagues found increased activity in the anterior cingulate cortex during experiences of exclusion. This parallels patterns seen in physical pain studies where distress is tracked with painful activities. The point is not that social threat is “just like” physical injury, but that the brain treats social severing as a serious alarm condition. It's something that demands attention, vigilance, and behavioral change to overcome.ROOTS, RESISTANCE, AND REPAIRTopophilia doesn't end with the so-called frontier or attempts at ‘removing' its inhabitants. It reappears wherever people form durable bonds. That includes the streets and schools, churches and parks, language, kin, and the local economies and cultures war capitalism eventually built. The Dakota and Ojibwe were never “removed” in any final sense. Many live and organize in and around the Twin Cities today.In South Minneapolis, the Indigenous Protector Movement, a biproduct of the American Indian Movement, works out of the American Indian Cultural Corridor along Franklin Avenue — an immediate target for ICE. The protectors made their presence known as a form of ongoing place-based care and defense. It is a living archive of tactics for defending attachment under pressure through direct action, community building, patrols, and the mundane discipline of showing up. What it offers is not merely a critique of state violence, but vigilance without spectacle, care without permission, and solidarity as a daily habit rather than a momentary sentiment.Other areas of Minneapolis show how when federal enforcement turns public space into a zone of uncertainty, topophilic neighbors often respond by adopting exactly those same “weapons” of persistence — care, documentation, rapid communication, mutual aid — that have long characterized Indigenous resistance and slavery abolitionist networks.Standing Rock, where the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe and allies gathered in 2016 to oppose the Dakota Access Pipeline, demonstrated how quickly infrastructure can scale when a place becomes a shared object of defense.The #NoDAPL movement assembled a broad coalition of Indigenous nations and allies, over 200 tribes, alongside legal support, medical care, and communications systems designed to withstand state patience. The 2020 George Floyd uprising in Minneapolis also revealed how love of place can become a platform for organized care rather than retreat. Alongside protest, residents built mutual-aid channels, street-medic networks, food distribution, and neighborhood defense efforts that treated the city as an emotional ecosystem worth repairing. What looked to outsiders like spontaneous eruption was, on the ground, a rapid layering of roles that included medics, legal observers, supply runners, translators, and de-escalators. This ecology of participation made it possible for large numbers of people to act without centralized command.Social psychology helps explain why these movements generate allies rather than only sympathizers. One key concept is collective efficacy — the combination of social cohesion and a shared willingness to intervene for the common good. It blossoms when people repeatedly see each other act, learn local norms of mutual obligation, and build trust that intervention will be supported rather than punished. All rooted in topophilia.Place attachment can bridge boundaries that would otherwise keep people separate. Work in community psychology and planning shows that place attachment and meaning can support participation and collective engagement, especially when development or coercion threatens everyday life. In other words, topophilia is not just private feeling. When it's under threat it can become public motive and an engine for coalition.The coalition in Minneapolis is being characterized by the federal government as terrorists. This borrows from a long history of resistance to violence because war capitalism has never been only domestic. The United States and its allies refined coercive governance overseas through night raids and “capture-or-kill” operations in Afghanistan, midnight house raids in Iraq, and broader militarized campaigns that treat homes as “searchable terrain” and communities as “intelligence environments.”Many of the officials, contractors, and voters who authorized or normalized these methods rarely imagined the same atmosphere of violent seizure in their neighborhood. As unimaginable as it may be watching unmarked vehicles, sudden detentions, and public uncertainty coming to American streets — used against the very citizens and taxpayers who fund such operations — it's not to those victims overseas in places like Afghanistan, Iraq, Palestine, or even inner city America.That return is what the poet and politician Aimé Césaire called the “imperial boomerang” effect, the idea that techniques tolerated in peripheral countries can come home to roost. In the U.S., the boomerang has long “landed” first on people of color. It emerges through surveillance and disruption campaigns like the two decades of the covert and illegal COINTELPRO program where the FBI targeted counterculture groups of the so-called New Left.Or the “Palmer Raids” of 1919 and 1920 targeting largely Italian and Eastern European Jewish immigrants and their left-leaning politics. These led to riots in 30 US cities and culminated in the bombing of the home of A. Mitchell Palmer, the US attorney general. These programs all reflect the notion that war can come home — just look at the increased militarizing of policing complete with SWAT tactics. And the same history that produced the scaffold of war capitalism of the past also produced reservoirs of resistance we see here and now. When neighbors anywhere respond to incursions not only with fear but with organized vigilance and material support, they are adapting older strategies of care found in Indigenous, abolitionist, and other movement-based defenses of people and places against infiltration, intimidation, and attempted violent removal.We can see how war capitalism endures. Mankato's 1862 gallows aimed to clear Dakota homelands of their people for homesteading, rails, and mills. Meanwhile, today's Operation Metro Surge includes thousands of federal agents raiding Minneapolis homes and streets, attempting to sever immigrant attachments to allegedly enforce labor control and national security. These militarized spectacles of warrantless entries, tear gas, and shootings echo what Beckert has uncovered. They treat people and place as obstacles to commodification rather than roots of stewardship.Yet topophilia also persists. These cross cultural rapid-response networks are not new to these lands, even though the US government tried to erase them centuries ago. The inspiring actions we see in Minneapolis reflect the values of compassion, positiveness, and respect for all relatives with neighborly solidarity that the first occupants of that land embraced. They're now woven with their allied 21st century neighbors in common and shared resistance. As best expressed here by Indigenous studies and political ecology scholar Melanie Yazzie. (and the longer version here) Minneapolis, like those acts of resistance in the nearby Dakotas, enacts and rehearses an alternative form of civil governance that centers mutual obligation over coercion and extraction. It shows how cities can survive the strain and stay alive — not through fear and gain, but through care that grounds and sustains. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit interplace.io

A lonely damsel gets a chance at neighbor's Christmas ‘Yule, Log'.Based on a post by virgin_sexpert. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.On Christmas Eve, I should have been out spending time with family or friends, but instead, I was in my sparsely-filled apartment, with a wine glass in my hand; all dressed up but nowhere to go. I put on my gold sequin mini dress thinking that I could maybe go out to a club.But when the time came, I wasn’t really feeling it. I had just moved to a new city; far from my family and friends; and although I had enjoyed the freedom of walking around in the nude whenever I wanted, it was getting a bit lonely. I never pictured myself in my early twenties and still single. All of my friends were either married, engaged, or dating. I was totally lagging behind. I was hornier than I had ever been in my life.In college I could barely concentrate on class and I never took notes because I was always thinking and developing some sexual fantasy in my head that took my full attention. I go by ‘Mindy'. My parents named me Melinda, but I hate that name. I hate a lot of the things associated with high school. I was a wierdo. Then in college, I was a nerd.At work in the library, I would have to take frequent breaks to my office where I would unwind to a few dirty pages of a dirty novel. Sex was on my mind, way too much. Every man that I would see throughout my day, became the leading male in my latest fantasy. I must have been the horniest virgin who ever lived! But no one ever knew.I deliberately moved to a new city, just so I could start over. I changed my wardrobe and my hair style. But I had a very hard time changing my inner self.I could have spent another night with my oiled up hand, or the new vibrator that I ordered online. Or I could have been a little kinkier and did some anal play with my handy-dandy pink ass plug, but I wanted the real thing, damnit! I went on the pill, to make sex safer for my career plans. It grew my tits from a C cup to a D. And it also kicked up my libido. The holiday season really heightened my horniness, but it also heightened my loneliness. I wanted a man so bad. I wanted to hear a knock at my door, then open it and see a naked man on the other side, tied up with a big red ribbon tied in a bow, sporting an 8 inch stiff cock, just for me.But I guess that was all just fantasy. When would my fantasies come to pass? Aren’t I allowed to get at least one of them?No matter how hard I wished and wanted something, it would never come to pass, so I decided to get up and go to a night club, downtown. Nothing ever came out of these things, but maybe tonight there would be some holiday magic working in my favor. Or maybe only losers would be desperate enough to be clubbing on Christmas Eve. But I was lusty, lonely, and stir-crazy.When I opened the door to my 4th floor hallway, my neighbor was just coming home. His door and mine were near each other. The hallway turned perpendicular right between our entries. Our two apartments were at the northeast corner of the 4th floor of the West building.“Hey, how are you, Mindy?” he asked. His name was John. He was older than me by perhaps some years, and he was way out of my league. Oh, he was always very cordial to me, but it always seemed out of pity. John is a tall and comes from Scandinavian stock. His mailbox, in the foyer; says “J. Nelson”.I bet tonight his beautiful girlfriend would be coming over, maybe in sexy lingerie; and they would spend the evening making love, talking, and drinking wine.“Hi, John. I'm Good! and you?” I asked back with a flirty smile.He looked so handsome, with his all-black ensemble, and red silk tie. I couldn’t help but smile goofily, in the face of this great looking man. I didn’t know what he did for a living, but every night I could hear him playing his acoustic guitar.  I laid in bed with my hands in my panties; pretending he was serenading me. But of course he would never know that.“Yeah, I'm Fine. Merry Christmas! Where are you heading out to?” I could feel his stare on me, and it was making me quite bashful and self-conscious. I've been working so hard to keep eye contact with people.I knew I looked great in my form-fitting dress. It highlighted my warm olive Italian skin, long slim legs, deep red full lips, and dark wavy hair. Okay, I'm keeping focused on John's gorgeous eyes.“Oh, I think I’ll get go to a dinner club, or something.” Then I sighed; “I am spending the holidays alone.”“Oh, Me too!” He started.I was surprised at his answer, and I almost didn’t believe him. How could someone this handsome be alone?Then he shocked me; “Do you maybe want to spend it alone together? I just stole some nice wine from my company holiday party? I was going to come home and drink alone. But, you know; it’s really not good to drink alone.” He winked and added; “Please, Mindy; Skip the bar tonight and come in.” He was opening the door and gesturing for me to come in. I followed him in without a word. I had only dreamed about ever going in there. It was better than I had imagined!  There was lots of navy, platinum, and teak wood furnishings. His home kinda smelled of leather and a subtle hint of vanilla.We sat in the elegant living room. I was offered his wingback arm chair, adjacent the leather sofa. When he situated himself, he first started out apologizing to me for being such an aloof neighbor. He said he sort of developed this bad habit when his previous neighbors were rude. I forgave him, as long as he promised never to stop being friendly again.We sat drinking his sweet white wine. He had lots of questions to ask me, in the matters of my life, job, and interests.I told him that I was a teen freak, then a college nerd. I love literature to a fault. I'm even into comic book superheroes, collecting replica Lightsabers, reading classic novels, and watching way too much Netflix. I told him that I used to be a shy kid with ADHD, but it leveled out during my college years.I seemed very lame to myself, saying those things out loud. I revealed that I was just recently liberated from the thick eyeglasses of my childhood, by a successful laser eye surgery. “Most people didn't even recognize me without the horrible glasses.” But I added that it's probably all for the better, as I would rather build new friendships.“So,” I asked him; “What type of things are you into?”“Lots of things, gourmet cooking, chess, running, watching way too much Hulu, playing the guitar,” He sipped a bit more wine, then added; “sketching, and tying up sexy women, to play with their nipples and tease their clits. ” I nearly choked on the wine that was almost down my throat. Suddenly my body temperature rose at least 10 degrees, and my hands began to tremble.He looked at me, straight into my big doe-like brown eyes. “Do you want to know what else I am into?”I tilted my head, as if I were under a spell.“Beautiful, shy women, like you; who don’t know how sexy they are. A woman who gets wet when a man looks her deep in the eyes, and tells her that.” His voice went deep as he slowly added; “I want to fuck every hole you have, and make you cum, again and again.“I was flushed and trembling, when he asked; “So, I ask again, my dear; what are you into?” He took the glass from my trembling hand and took my hand into his, and laid a sweet kiss on it.With a trembling voice I began: “I really like to write erotica, especially at night when I am listening to you play your guitar. I like to close my eyes and wish that someone was touching me, whispering how much they want to make love to me; ” I closed my eyes and took myself to my inner thoughts. My eyes watered at his sultry words. I was being seduced for the first time in my life!I could feel him getting closer to me, his lip brushed against my ear. “I really like this;” I said as I felt the heat of his breathing, on my neck.“You are your own kind of beautiful, Mindy.” He told me.I opened my eyes, hoping that this wasn’t just another dream. In the back of my mind I already started to ask myself the ‘why’ and 'how’ questions, but why ruin a sexy moment? I was completely flattered and could not hide my obvious turned on state.  Already I could feel the wetness between my legs.“Am I making you uncomfortable?” John grinned.My smile widened. “Honestly, You are making me wet,” I laughed. I was never that frank about sex. But then again, I never really had a chance to be.“Do you always do this to women you invite inside.” I asked, with keen interest and looking him in the eyes.“Have there been women in here that I'm unaware of?” John returned my question.I had to challenge my presumption. No, I honestly hadn't seen him bring a date to his place. “I'm sorry, John. No, I haven't any reason to accuse you of being a player. I just assumed you'd have women throwing themselves at you.”“Ha!” he laughed. “No, I am just in the Christmas spirit, I guess. It’s the season for giving. I find myself in solitary circumstance, and reflecting on the need to appreciate the opportunities I haven't availed myself to. Start treating people better. Especially kind neighbors whom I should be kinder to. And I want to give you something. Something even your wildest virgin fantasies can’t imagine.”“Now, how did you know I was a virgin?” I felt more exposed than ever.“I didn’t. But, now I know for sure,” he laughed.I blushed, but his laugh made it easier for me to relax and be vulnerable. Oh he was even sexier when he laughed.“I know you probably think that no one notices you, but I notice you.” John wanted to build up my self-esteem. “I see you coming home, and you nearly always pull out the wrong door key first. You are always humming the same song to yourself, and you are always dressed so sexily. I especially like that purple dress; it makes your lovely breasts look great.”My cheeks were so bright red, I didn’t even know what else to say back to him. I felt so sexy now. "And I must say, I love this dress on you.” He paused, then added; “But for me to give you a proper Christmas Eve gift, you will have to lose it.“"You want me to strip?” I smiled. I was hoping he was serious, because my clothes were begging to come off. ‘Thank you God, for sending me this sexy horny man!'“Yes! Have another glass of wine, if you’d like. But I want you to strip, and then walk right into my bedroom over there.”John is inviting me to his bedroom! I was nervous, but even more so, I was terribly craving cock, his cock. With alcohol running through my veins, and 'bold’ becoming my new middle name.I stood facing John. Then I stepped up on his wooden coffee table. Still looking him in the eyes with lust,  I pulled the halter tie from the back of my neck. I was swaying to an imaginary base rift, as I held a tie string in each hand.My shoulders pulsed alternately, which caused my tits to swing against my gold bodice. Now my nipples were erect and protruding. I leaned over toward John as my straps released.  Still swaying and twerking to my imaginary music, I reached behind to unzip the low-back of the dress; all the while entertaining him with my pendulous tits.Then I placed a hand on each hip, as I stood back upright.  I turned in several steps as I rocked my curvy ass to him, Then I slowly slid each hand down my hips, the thin dress descending with my hands. Before releasing, I looked over my shoulder, to catch his reaction. His eyes clearly conveyed; ‘Keep going'; so I did. I was being a tease, and he was into it.The garment dropped to my stilettos. I stepped out of my gold cocktail dress, leaving only my black lacy G-string and my high heels.Suddenly my rhythm stopped. I stood with my ass to him. I stepped my legs apart just enough to let my cunny make an appearance. In dramatic silence I slowly slid the waistband of the G-string down, guiding it continuously to my ankles.  I caught his delightful lust, as I smiled seductively, from between my spread legs.I stepped a leg out of the G-string and pivoted back facing him. Then I raised my other foot, with the lacy garment clinging to my toes. I swiftly grabbed the skimpy thing and  in one fluid motion I stretched it back with my other hand, and shot the black lacy thing against his chest.Now in front of him, I stood completely naked; like I was almost every night on the other side of that wall.  Yes, I had practiced this routine; often to the rhythm of his classical guitar selections.“Fucking hell; Come here, my pretty little virgin. I want to show you something.” He held out a hand and I grabbed it while placing my other hand on his shoulder. I collected my items and removed my heels, then placed them all on the chair.I followed him into his bedroom, where it was dark and mysterious. I sat naked on the corner of his bed, next to a corner bedpost. With lusty anticipation, I watched him as he pulled a big black box from underneath his bed. He pulled out a box of several candles. Silently he set them around the room, as he lit each of them.Also in the box, he pulled out an interesting rope contraption that he fastened to the four corners of the  bed. Then John laid a firm wedge cushion near the head of the bed. When he padded his hand on it, he said; “Ly down, dirty girl. I want to show you things that will blow your mind.”I went up to the middle of his bed and laid down on the wedge cushion. My shoulders and head were now slightly elevated, to watch as he bound my ankles and wrists to the bed. The wide bands were held by Velcro, and each attached to a shiny black rope.I was now exposed for him, and vulnerable. With nowhere to go, and no idea about what would happen next. For all I know, he could chop me up to a million pieces. But I had a feeling that he was being as bold as I was being, tonight. It turned me on, to be this way with a handsome man I barely knew.From the look in his eyes, my naked body looked delicious; stretched out in the candlelight. My nipples peaked upward, begging to be touched, from atop the summits of my 34D breasts. Each curve of my classically soft and feminine figure; was highlighted and exposed.I could see little goosebumps rising up all over me. John disappeared from the room for a minute, but returned with the bottle of wine in his hand, and with no clothes on. But now he had a red ribbon, tied in a bow, around his swaying hard cock. I wanted to pounce, but I was tied up.Seeing his beautiful cock alive and ready, sent jolts of sexual energy down my body. Oh Gawd! I wanted to jump off that bed and go for his cock right away. But, no matter what I did, I could not free myself. With the bottle of wine in hand, he crawled onto the bed kneeling between my spread thighs. "You are such a beautiful girl. Damn, I think you are meant to be on my bed, nightly; so I can just look at you, and admire you.“ He looked down at me with a look that I had never seen before. I was ready to have fun with him, our great sexy holiday secret tryst.He tilted the bottle of sweet white wine right over my lips, for me to taste. The small trickle splashed over my lips as I opened my mouth to let some in.The wine tasted too good, I had to lick my lips to get every bit of it.Next, he dripped some onto my stiff nipples. We watched the wine roll down over my swollen breasts and pool at the side of my body. The wine looked so good, rolling around on my goose-pimpled tits. The wine also ran into the valley between my tits, then down my torso.If I could, I would have licked it from myself. But I really wanted him to lick me. Down my belly and into my belly button the wine rolled. "Do you like that?” He grinned.“Yes,” I said, trying to raise my body up to touch his. I wanted our skins to make contact, but he was teasing me and making me wet in more than one way. He put the bottle between my legs and rubbed the cool glass container against my moist pussy. I grinded my pussy lips against the wine, enjoying contact while I had it. When he was done teasing me like that, He took a last drink, leaving just an ounce behind. Then he poured that last bit of wine down my sweet cunny slit and all over my furry mound. Now the bottle was empty, and all that was left to taste, was me. "Taste me;“ I invited him. I was on the verge of begging for his touch. But I didn’t have to beg because his lips met my nipple. He didn’t play around. He went straight for the hard suck, like he was reading my horny mind. I moaned loudly, arching my chest toward his face. When he released my nipple from his hard suck, I could see the trail of saliva from his lips to the tip of my nipple.He treated my other nipple just the same, sucking harder, and harder, encouraged by my positive reaction.My tits wanted more of him, but he pulled away; and to my surprise, started to slap my tits one after the other. From the outer sides, his alternating slaps sent the one hefty tit bouncing into the other, in a chain reaction.To watch them jerk and jiggle was fascinating him. My nipples seemed to be growing even bigger, and more sensitive to his tongue, and hard suction. I wondered if they tasted like the sweet white wine. "Are you ready for your present?” he asked.I looked down at his cock as he unwrapped the big red ribbon; and let it fall on my mound. My mouth was wide open, already anticipating being orally filled by his thick and long cock. It was the most beautiful cock that I had ever seen. Alright, so I haven't actually seen many erect cocks, in person. But his far surpassed my embellished fantasies. He gave me a closer look at his cock, as he straddled further up, on top of me. With his dick just centimeters away from my lips; he stroked himself and showed me the precum already seeping from his delicious head.“You know, darling; My ancestors celebrated the holidays with a big log, A Yule, log, they called it. A thick log that was slowly fed into the hearth, where it burned several night, until the new year.“ John slowly pulled the foreskin tightly back, and his shiny phallus reflected the lamplight. “The Yule, log was a warm treat to make the home a cozy place, and never failed to meet the need.” He said.John rubbed his cock all over my face, making me wet with his precum. I reached out my tongue to lick him but he withdrew teasingly. “Have you been a good girl, this year, Mindy?”“A very good girl,” I replied.He let his cock slap my cheeks, getting closer and closer to my mouth. Once he was close enough, I grabbed his cock with my lips and held onto him. He let out an initial moan as I welcomed in his fullness into my hungry mouth. His cock was getting more slippery by the second. Tantalizingly sliding in and out of my wet oral hole. As my lips clamped him in place, my tongue massaged his frenulum, just under the tip and along the ridge of his glans crown.It had been too long since I sucked a cock. Yes, I was a virgin, but I had the pleasure of sucking teen cock, a couple of times before. At a high school cast party, after the last

A lonely damsel gets a chance at neighbor's Christmas ‘Yule, Log'.Based on a post by virgin_sexpert. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.On Christmas Eve, I should have been out spending time with family or friends, but instead, I was in my sparsely-filled apartment, with a wine glass in my hand; all dressed up but nowhere to go. I put on my gold sequin mini dress thinking that I could maybe go out to a club.But when the time came, I wasn’t really feeling it. I had just moved to a new city; far from my family and friends; and although I had enjoyed the freedom of walking around in the nude whenever I wanted, it was getting a bit lonely. I never pictured myself in my early twenties and still single. All of my friends were either married, engaged, or dating. I was totally lagging behind. I was hornier than I had ever been in my life.In college I could barely concentrate on class and I never took notes because I was always thinking and developing some sexual fantasy in my head that took my full attention. I go by ‘Mindy'. My parents named me Melinda, but I hate that name. I hate a lot of the things associated with high school. I was a wierdo. Then in college, I was a nerd.At work in the library, I would have to take frequent breaks to my office where I would unwind to a few dirty pages of a dirty novel. Sex was on my mind, way too much. Every man that I would see throughout my day, became the leading male in my latest fantasy. I must have been the horniest virgin who ever lived! But no one ever knew.I deliberately moved to a new city, just so I could start over. I changed my wardrobe and my hair style. But I had a very hard time changing my inner self.I could have spent another night with my oiled up hand, or the new vibrator that I ordered online. Or I could have been a little kinkier and did some anal play with my handy-dandy pink ass plug, but I wanted the real thing, damnit! I went on the pill, to make sex safer for my career plans. It grew my tits from a C cup to a D. And it also kicked up my libido. The holiday season really heightened my horniness, but it also heightened my loneliness. I wanted a man so bad. I wanted to hear a knock at my door, then open it and see a naked man on the other side, tied up with a big red ribbon tied in a bow, sporting an 8 inch stiff cock, just for me.But I guess that was all just fantasy. When would my fantasies come to pass? Aren’t I allowed to get at least one of them?No matter how hard I wished and wanted something, it would never come to pass, so I decided to get up and go to a night club, downtown. Nothing ever came out of these things, but maybe tonight there would be some holiday magic working in my favor. Or maybe only losers would be desperate enough to be clubbing on Christmas Eve. But I was lusty, lonely, and stir-crazy.When I opened the door to my 4th floor hallway, my neighbor was just coming home. His door and mine were near each other. The hallway turned perpendicular right between our entries. Our two apartments were at the northeast corner of the 4th floor of the West building.“Hey, how are you, Mindy?” he asked. His name was John. He was older than me by perhaps some years, and he was way out of my league. Oh, he was always very cordial to me, but it always seemed out of pity. John is a tall and comes from Scandinavian stock. His mailbox, in the foyer; says “J. Nelson”.I bet tonight his beautiful girlfriend would be coming over, maybe in sexy lingerie; and they would spend the evening making love, talking, and drinking wine.“Hi, John. I'm Good! and you?” I asked back with a flirty smile.He looked so handsome, with his all-black ensemble, and red silk tie. I couldn’t help but smile goofily, in the face of this great looking man. I didn’t know what he did for a living, but every night I could hear him playing his acoustic guitar.  I laid in bed with my hands in my panties; pretending he was serenading me. But of course he would never know that.“Yeah, I'm Fine. Merry Christmas! Where are you heading out to?” I could feel his stare on me, and it was making me quite bashful and self-conscious. I've been working so hard to keep eye contact with people.I knew I looked great in my form-fitting dress. It highlighted my warm olive Italian skin, long slim legs, deep red full lips, and dark wavy hair. Okay, I'm keeping focused on John's gorgeous eyes.“Oh, I think I’ll get go to a dinner club, or something.” Then I sighed; “I am spending the holidays alone.”“Oh, Me too!” He started.I was surprised at his answer, and I almost didn’t believe him. How could someone this handsome be alone?Then he shocked me; “Do you maybe want to spend it alone together? I just stole some nice wine from my company holiday party? I was going to come home and drink alone. But, you know; it’s really not good to drink alone.” He winked and added; “Please, Mindy; Skip the bar tonight and come in.” He was opening the door and gesturing for me to come in. I followed him in without a word. I had only dreamed about ever going in there. It was better than I had imagined!  There was lots of navy, platinum, and teak wood furnishings. His home kinda smelled of leather and a subtle hint of vanilla.We sat in the elegant living room. I was offered his wingback arm chair, adjacent the leather sofa. When he situated himself, he first started out apologizing to me for being such an aloof neighbor. He said he sort of developed this bad habit when his previous neighbors were rude. I forgave him, as long as he promised never to stop being friendly again.We sat drinking his sweet white wine. He had lots of questions to ask me, in the matters of my life, job, and interests.I told him that I was a teen freak, then a college nerd. I love literature to a fault. I'm even into comic book superheroes, collecting replica Lightsabers, reading classic novels, and watching way too much Netflix. I told him that I used to be a shy kid with ADHD, but it leveled out during my college years.I seemed very lame to myself, saying those things out loud. I revealed that I was just recently liberated from the thick eyeglasses of my childhood, by a successful laser eye surgery. “Most people didn't even recognize me without the horrible glasses.” But I added that it's probably all for the better, as I would rather build new friendships.“So,” I asked him; “What type of things are you into?”“Lots of things, gourmet cooking, chess, running, watching way too much Hulu, playing the guitar,” He sipped a bit more wine, then added; “sketching, and tying up sexy women, to play with their nipples and tease their clits. ” I nearly choked on the wine that was almost down my throat. Suddenly my body temperature rose at least 10 degrees, and my hands began to tremble.He looked at me, straight into my big doe-like brown eyes. “Do you want to know what else I am into?”I tilted my head, as if I were under a spell.“Beautiful, shy women, like you; who don’t know how sexy they are. A woman who gets wet when a man looks her deep in the eyes, and tells her that.” His voice went deep as he slowly added; “I want to fuck every hole you have, and make you cum, again and again.“I was flushed and trembling, when he asked; “So, I ask again, my dear; what are you into?” He took the glass from my trembling hand and took my hand into his, and laid a sweet kiss on it.With a trembling voice I began: “I really like to write erotica, especially at night when I am listening to you play your guitar. I like to close my eyes and wish that someone was touching me, whispering how much they want to make love to me; ” I closed my eyes and took myself to my inner thoughts. My eyes watered at his sultry words. I was being seduced for the first time in my life!I could feel him getting closer to me, his lip brushed against my ear. “I really like this;” I said as I felt the heat of his breathing, on my neck.“You are your own kind of beautiful, Mindy.” He told me.I opened my eyes, hoping that this wasn’t just another dream. In the back of my mind I already started to ask myself the ‘why’ and 'how’ questions, but why ruin a sexy moment? I was completely flattered and could not hide my obvious turned on state.  Already I could feel the wetness between my legs.“Am I making you uncomfortable?” John grinned.My smile widened. “Honestly, You are making me wet,” I laughed. I was never that frank about sex. But then again, I never really had a chance to be.“Do you always do this to women you invite inside.” I asked, with keen interest and looking him in the eyes.“Have there been women in here that I'm unaware of?” John returned my question.I had to challenge my presumption. No, I honestly hadn't seen him bring a date to his place. “I'm sorry, John. No, I haven't any reason to accuse you of being a player. I just assumed you'd have women throwing themselves at you.”“Ha!” he laughed. “No, I am just in the Christmas spirit, I guess. It’s the season for giving. I find myself in solitary circumstance, and reflecting on the need to appreciate the opportunities I haven't availed myself to. Start treating people better. Especially kind neighbors whom I should be kinder to. And I want to give you something. Something even your wildest virgin fantasies can’t imagine.”“Now, how did you know I was a virgin?” I felt more exposed than ever.“I didn’t. But, now I know for sure,” he laughed.I blushed, but his laugh made it easier for me to relax and be vulnerable. Oh he was even sexier when he laughed.“I know you probably think that no one notices you, but I notice you.” John wanted to build up my self-esteem. “I see you coming home, and you nearly always pull out the wrong door key first. You are always humming the same song to yourself, and you are always dressed so sexily. I especially like that purple dress; it makes your lovely breasts look great.”My cheeks were so bright red, I didn’t even know what else to say back to him. I felt so sexy now. "And I must say, I love this dress on you.” He paused, then added; “But for me to give you a proper Christmas Eve gift, you will have to lose it.“"You want me to strip?” I smiled. I was hoping he was serious, because my clothes were begging to come off. ‘Thank you God, for sending me this sexy horny man!'“Yes! Have another glass of wine, if you’d like. But I want you to strip, and then walk right into my bedroom over there.”John is inviting me to his bedroom! I was nervous, but even more so, I was terribly craving cock, his cock. With alcohol running through my veins, and 'bold’ becoming my new middle name.I stood facing John. Then I stepped up on his wooden coffee table. Still looking him in the eyes with lust,  I pulled the halter tie from the back of my neck. I was swaying to an imaginary base rift, as I held a tie string in each hand.My shoulders pulsed alternately, which caused my tits to swing against my gold bodice. Now my nipples were erect and protruding. I leaned over toward John as my straps released.  Still swaying and twerking to my imaginary music, I reached behind to unzip the low-back of the dress; all the while entertaining him with my pendulous tits.Then I placed a hand on each hip, as I stood back upright.  I turned in several steps as I rocked my curvy ass to him, Then I slowly slid each hand down my hips, the thin dress descending with my hands. Before releasing, I looked over my shoulder, to catch his reaction. His eyes clearly conveyed; ‘Keep going'; so I did. I was being a tease, and he was into it.The garment dropped to my stilettos. I stepped out of my gold cocktail dress, leaving only my black lacy G-string and my high heels.Suddenly my rhythm stopped. I stood with my ass to him. I stepped my legs apart just enough to let my cunny make an appearance. In dramatic silence I slowly slid the waistband of the G-string down, guiding it continuously to my ankles.  I caught his delightful lust, as I smiled seductively, from between my spread legs.I stepped a leg out of the G-string and pivoted back facing him. Then I raised my other foot, with the lacy garment clinging to my toes. I swiftly grabbed the skimpy thing and  in one fluid motion I stretched it back with my other hand, and shot the black lacy thing against his chest.Now in front of him, I stood completely naked; like I was almost every night on the other side of that wall.  Yes, I had practiced this routine; often to the rhythm of his classical guitar selections.“Fucking hell; Come here, my pretty little virgin. I want to show you something.” He held out a hand and I grabbed it while placing my other hand on his shoulder. I collected my items and removed my heels, then placed them all on the chair.I followed him into his bedroom, where it was dark and mysterious. I sat naked on the corner of his bed, next to a corner bedpost. With lusty anticipation, I watched him as he pulled a big black box from underneath his bed. He pulled out a box of several candles. Silently he set them around the room, as he lit each of them.Also in the box, he pulled out an interesting rope contraption that he fastened to the four corners of the  bed. Then John laid a firm wedge cushion near the head of the bed. When he padded his hand on it, he said; “Ly down, dirty girl. I want to show you things that will blow your mind.”I went up to the middle of his bed and laid down on the wedge cushion. My shoulders and head were now slightly elevated, to watch as he bound my ankles and wrists to the bed. The wide bands were held by Velcro, and each attached to a shiny black rope.I was now exposed for him, and vulnerable. With nowhere to go, and no idea about what would happen next. For all I know, he could chop me up to a million pieces. But I had a feeling that he was being as bold as I was being, tonight. It turned me on, to be this way with a handsome man I barely knew.From the look in his eyes, my naked body looked delicious; stretched out in the candlelight. My nipples peaked upward, begging to be touched, from atop the summits of my 34D breasts. Each curve of my classically soft and feminine figure; was highlighted and exposed.I could see little goosebumps rising up all over me. John disappeared from the room for a minute, but returned with the bottle of wine in his hand, and with no clothes on. But now he had a red ribbon, tied in a bow, around his swaying hard cock. I wanted to pounce, but I was tied up.Seeing his beautiful cock alive and ready, sent jolts of sexual energy down my body. Oh Gawd! I wanted to jump off that bed and go for his cock right away. But, no matter what I did, I could not free myself. With the bottle of wine in hand, he crawled onto the bed kneeling between my spread thighs. "You are such a beautiful girl. Damn, I think you are meant to be on my bed, nightly; so I can just look at you, and admire you.“ He looked down at me with a look that I had never seen before. I was ready to have fun with him, our great sexy holiday secret tryst.He tilted the bottle of sweet white wine right over my lips, for me to taste. The small trickle splashed over my lips as I opened my mouth to let some in.The wine tasted too good, I had to lick my lips to get every bit of it.Next, he dripped some onto my stiff nipples. We watched the wine roll down over my swollen breasts and pool at the side of my body. The wine looked so good, rolling around on my goose-pimpled tits. The wine also ran into the valley between my tits, then down my torso.If I could, I would have licked it from myself. But I really wanted him to lick me. Down my belly and into my belly button the wine rolled. "Do you like that?” He grinned.“Yes,” I said, trying to raise my body up to touch his. I wanted our skins to make contact, but he was teasing me and making me wet in more than one way. He put the bottle between my legs and rubbed the cool glass container against my moist pussy. I grinded my pussy lips against the wine, enjoying contact while I had it. When he was done teasing me like that, He took a last drink, leaving just an ounce behind. Then he poured that last bit of wine down my sweet cunny slit and all over my furry mound. Now the bottle was empty, and all that was left to taste, was me. "Taste me;“ I invited him. I was on the verge of begging for his touch. But I didn’t have to beg because his lips met my nipple. He didn’t play around. He went straight for the hard suck, like he was reading my horny mind. I moaned loudly, arching my chest toward his face. When he released my nipple from his hard suck, I could see the trail of saliva from his lips to the tip of my nipple.He treated my other nipple just the same, sucking harder, and harder, encouraged by my positive reaction.My tits wanted more of him, but he pulled away; and to my surprise, started to slap my tits one after the other. From the outer sides, his alternating slaps sent the one hefty tit bouncing into the other, in a chain reaction.To watch them jerk and jiggle was fascinating him. My nipples seemed to be growing even bigger, and more sensitive to his tongue, and hard suction. I wondered if they tasted like the sweet white wine. "Are you ready for your present?” he asked.I looked down at his cock as he unwrapped the big red ribbon; and let it fall on my mound. My mouth was wide open, already anticipating being orally filled by his thick and long cock. It was the most beautiful cock that I had ever seen. Alright, so I haven't actually seen many erect cocks, in person. But his far surpassed my embellished fantasies. He gave me a closer look at his cock, as he straddled further up, on top of me. With his dick just centimeters away from my lips; he stroked himself and showed me the precum already seeping from his delicious head.“You know, darling; My ancestors celebrated the holidays with a big log, A Yule, log, they called it. A thick log that was slowly fed into the hearth, where it burned several night, until the new year.“ John slowly pulled the foreskin tightly back, and his shiny phallus reflected the lamplight. “The Yule, log was a warm treat to make the home a cozy place, and never failed to meet the need.” He said.John rubbed his cock all over my face, making me wet with his precum. I reached out my tongue to lick him but he withdrew teasingly. “Have you been a good girl, this year, Mindy?”“A very good girl,” I replied.He let his cock slap my cheeks, getting closer and closer to my mouth. Once he was close enough, I grabbed his cock with my lips and held onto him. He let out an initial moan as I welcomed in his fullness into my hungry mouth. His cock was getting more slippery by the second. Tantalizingly sliding in and out of my wet oral hole. As my lips clamped him in place, my tongue massaged his frenulum, just under the tip and along the ridge of his glans crown.It had been too long since I sucked a cock. Yes, I was a virgin, but I had the pleasure of sucking teen cock, a couple of times before. At a high school cast party, after the last

Minnesota's Attorney General tells us about his push to end the federal immigration crackdown there -- and about the dozens of other lawsuits his state has launched against the Trump administration. The families of two Trinidadian men killed when the U.S. bombed their boat near Venezuela mount their own legal fight against the Trump administration -- saying their loved ones had nothing to do with drug cartels. A farmer on the Dutch Caribbean island of Bonaire tells us he's thrilled by a landmark court ruling that orders the government to make a plan to protect him and his neighbours from the ever-present effects of climate change. We'll talk to a record collector who's been on a mission to find, and promote, the band whose old, beat-up album he found in a thrift store. A Kenyan climate activist tells us why she hugged a palm tree for three full days and nights. And also -- since we're all wondering -- how. After learning Pamela Anderson's grandfather was from Finland, our Scandinavian so-called allies risk an international incident -- by starting an ad campaign aimed exclusively at luring her there.As It Happens, the Wednesday Edition. Radio that urges Ms. Anderson not to cross the Finnish line.

It's back to school! DYRK is dedicating a special week to sport. Because moving and doing regular physical activity is important for our physical and mental health! Listen again to our episodes about sport! In the last 12 months, we've all spent more time at home than we expected. As a result, our use of computers or smartphones has increased to the point where many of us spend almost all day gazing into a screen. This can lead to eye strain and dry eyes, as well as other disorders or diseases. OK, so in this day and age it's difficult to totally go without all these digital tools which are part of our daily lives. But there are some tips to prevent or slow vision loss. Eye yoga allows us to train our eye muscles. It's a natural method which comes from Indian medicine. We often forget to exercise our eyes, which function thanks to muscles. And muscles need to be trained! This sounds like it must be the latest fad! Is it actually effective? What are the exercises to stimulate eyes? ⁠In under 3 minutes, we answer your questions !⁠ To listen to the latest episodes, click here: ⁠What is tagskryt, the Scandinavian sustainable travel trend?⁠ ⁠Is it time the UK acknowledged its role in the slave trade?⁠ ⁠Why do we sneeze?⁠ A podcast written and realised by Joseph Chance First Broadcast: 27/9/2022 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Blue Lake is the music of American artist Jason Dungan, shaped by living on a Copenhagen island where wild parkland sits on reclaimed industrial ground and flight paths cross the sky. We sit down to explore how place, practice, and people turn Americana and ambient textures into something fused with a European sensibility. Jason shares the pivot from visual art to sound, and why Don Cherry's spirit sits at the project's core—not as a template but as a way of working that welcomes risk, collaboration, and porous borders. We unpack how chords feel different when five musicians make them together, how a rock club can unlock a set the concert hall couldn't, and why the best parts of a record often come from the problems you refuse to outsource. Along the way, we talk recording in Sweden's forests beside factories, treating albums like thoughtfully built exhibitions, and keeping the human pulse in music even as tools get slicker.We also zoom out. Touring with a band in the UK, leaning on Scandinavian funding, and balancing freelance work all reveal the new economics artists navigate. Jason calls out AI's promise to “solve” creative labour as missing the point—the friction is the point. And when politics intrudes, it's real: living in Denmark means Greenland is neighbours, language, history, protest. Small-country confidence, built on community and cooperation, mirrors the values in Blue Lake's sound.If you enjoy Lost and Sound and want to help keep it thriving, the best way to support is simple: subscribe, leave a rating, and write a quick review on your favourite podcast platform. It really helps others find the show. You can do that here on Apple Podcasts or wherever you like to listen.Blue Lake on Instagram:https://www.instagram.com/the_bluelake/?hl=enBlue Lake on Bandcamp:https://bluelake1.bandcamp.com/Huge thanks to Audio-Technica – makers of beautifully engineered audio gear and sponsors of Lost and Sound. Check them out here: Audio-TechnicaMy book Coming To Berlin is a journey through the city's creative underground, and is available via Velocity Press.You can also follow me on Instagram at @paulhanford for behind-the-scenes bits, guest updates, and whatever else is bubbling up.

A wind whips across the North Sea as dragon-headed ships cut through the waves towards Anglo-Saxon England. Their arrival marks the start of the Viking Age.In this episode of Gone Medieval, Dr Eleanor Janega is joined by Terri Barnes and C.J. Adrien of the Vikingology podcast to explore why Vikings left their Scandinavian homelands. From climate change and political upheaval to innovations in shipbuilding, they examine the forces that set these raiders and explorers on a path that would reshape medieval Europe.MOREThe Viking Age: What New Discoveries RevealListen on AppleListen on SpotifyViking Warrior WomenListen on AppleListen on SpotifyGone Medieval is presented by Dr. Eleanor Janega. Audio editor is Amy Haddow, the producer is Joseph Knight. The senior producer is Anne-Marie Luff.All music used is courtesy of Epidemic Sounds.Gone Medieval is a History Hit podcast.Sign up to History Hit for hundreds of hours of original documentaries, with a new release every week. Sign up at https://www.historyhit.com/subscribe.  Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In what can only be described as a flagrant, shameless attempt to appear on Scandinavian news programs again, we're diving into Joachim Trier's quiet but complex exploration of generational trauma and the interpersonal sturm und drang of familial artists, Sentimental Value! Along the way, we discuss stage fright, sibling vs. only-child life, and an unsettling trend that's showing up in every single film we are covering this season. (And, of course, the proper pronunciation of Skarsgård!) Head to our PATREON for ad-free episodes, full video episodes, and more!

Watching Danish movies and TV shows is a great way to survive the long Danish winter—and if you're learning Danish or trying to understand Danish culture, it's even better. Many films are available online for free.   Whatever your taste, there are Danish films for it: Danish film noir from the 1940s if you like crime dramas, the classic Olsen Gang comedies if you prefer something lighter, and Danish children's shows that are actually great for adults learning Danish because the language is so simple. Denmark has been making movies since 1897, and Nordisk Film, founded in 1906, is still the world's oldest continuously operating film studio. You've probably seen their logo if you've been to the cinema in Denmark. In this episode, I'll tell you about Danish cinema classics you should know about, from Mads Mikkelsen movies like Another Round (which won an Oscar) to vintage Danish TV series like Matador that every Dane has seen. Want to know where to actually watch Danish movies online? I'll tell you about Filmstriben (free with your CPR number), DR.DK with its treasure trove of classic Danish television, and how Netflix has even started making new Danish-language TV series. Plus, I'll explain how all this Danish movie production is funded by our giant Danish taxes—and why the government makes Netflix contribute too. It's all part of keeping Danish film and TV alive in an increasingly English-speaking world. Perfect for: Expats in Denmark, anyone learning Danish, fans of Scandinavian films and Nordic cinema

Freddy Gray speaks to investigative journalist and policy fellow at American Experiment Bill Glahn about the situation in Minneapolis. They discuss how Minnesota – a state once occupied by Scandinavian peace loving people became the heart of political eruptions; the multibillion dollar fraud of state social benefits which led to the immigration crackdown and the effect of the cripplingly cold weather in calming the chaos. Become a Spectator subscriber today to access this podcast without adverts. Go to spectator.co.uk/adfree to find out more.For more Spectator podcasts, go to spectator.co.uk/podcasts. Contact us: podcast@spectator.co.uk Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Karl Ove Knausgaard is the author of the novel The School of Night, the fourth book in his acclaimed Morning Star series. Available from Penguin Press. Translated from the Norwegian by Martin Aitken. Knausgaard's first novel, Out of the World, was the first ever debut novel to win the Norwegian Critics' Prize, and his second, A Time for Everything, was longlisted for the 2010 International Dublin Literary Award. The My Struggle cycle of novels has been heralded as a masterpiece wherever it has appeared. His work is published in thirty-five languages.Martin Aitken's translations of Scandinavian literature number some thirty-five books. His work has appeared on the shortlists of the 2017 International Dublin Literary Award and the 2018 U.S. National Book Award, as well as the 2021 International Booker Prize. He received the PEN America Translation Prize in 2019. *** ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Otherppl with Brad Listi⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ is a weekly podcast featuring in-depth interviews with today's leading writers. This episode is sponsored by Ulysses. Go to ⁠ulys.app/writeabook⁠ to download Ulysses, and use the code OTHERPPL at checkout to get 25% off the first year of your yearly subscription. Available where podcasts are available: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Apple Podcasts⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Spotify⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, etc. Get ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠How to Write a Novel,⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ the debut audio course from DeepDive. 50+ hours of never-before-heard insight, inspiration, and instruction from dozens of today's most celebrated contemporary authors. Subscribe to ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Brad's email newsletter⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Support the show on Patreon⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Merch⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠TikTok⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Bluesky⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Email the show: letters [at] otherppl [dot] com The podcast is a ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠proud affiliate partner of Bookshop⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, working to support local, independent bookstores. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Are you enjoying this? Are you not? Tell us what to do more of, and what you'd like to hear less of. The Reykjavík Grapevine's Iceland Roundup brings you the top news with a healthy dash of local views. In this episode, Grapevine publisher Jón Trausti Sigurðarson is joined by Heimildin journalist Aðalsteinn Kjartansson, and Grapevine friend and contributor Sindri Eldon to roundup the stories making headlines in recent weeks. On the docket this week are: US Ambassador Makes An ImpressionUS ambassadorial nominee Billy Long, made another joke, endearing him to the Icelandic nation prior to his arrival as ambassador. Last time he made the joke that he had wanted to manage ICE, but had been misheard by Trump and instead appointed ambassador to Iceland. Last week in congress, Billy was overheard joking that he was going to become Iceland's first governor, instead of ambassador, as Iceland became the USA's 52nd state. This did not vote well with the Icelandic public, presuming that Greenland would become the 51st state.Attempt At Soliciting Prostitutions Leads MP To ResignGuðbrandur Einarsson, an MP for Viðreisn (the Reform Party), has resigned from Parliament due to an attempted purchase of prostitution in 2012. He was questioned by police at the time but says he was never charged. He decided to step down after local news outlet Vísir planned to report on the case.Greenland Drama ContinuesIn an effort to put pressure on fellow NATO allies in his continued effort of gobbling up Greenland, President Trump put tariffs on all the Scandinavian countries, Germany, France and the Netherlands, but not Iceland. Promoting suggestions that Trump simply forgot Iceland. Foreign citizens 20% of Iceland's populationForeign citizens living in Iceland are now 83.950, or just above 20% of the total population. Five years ago, they were 15%. The proportion of foreign nationals living in some municipalities reaches almost 70%, that is 67,4% in Vík í Myrdal, 46% in Skaftárhreppur, and 39% in Bláskógabyggð. All these municipalities are in the South of Iceland, all are popular tourist destinations. According to Statistics Iceland, at least 44% of the people working in the tourism sector, are foreign nationals. Support the show------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------SHOW SUPPORTSupport the Grapevine's reporting by becoming a member of our High Five Club: https://grapevine.is/high-five-club/Or donate to the Grapevine here:https://support.grapevine.isYou can also support the Grapevine by shopping in our online store:https://shop.grapevine.is------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ This is a Reykjavík Grapevine podcast.The Reykjavík Grapevine is a free alternative magazine in English published 18 times per year, biweekly during the spring and summer, and monthly during the autumn and winter. The magazine covers everything Iceland-related, with a special focus culture, music, food and travel. The Reykjavík Grapevine's goal is to serve as a trustworthy and reliable source of information for those living in Iceland, visiting Iceland or interested in Iceland. Thanks to our dedicated readership and excellent distribution network, the Reykjavík Grapevine is Iceland's most read English-language publication. You may not agree with what we write or publish, but at least it's not sponsored content.www.grapevine.is

Episode 258 Rorke's Drift part two. It's important to listen to Episode 257 because that sets everything up for this episode - there's too much to repeat particularly in the layout of the buildings which were fully described in Episode 257. There were around 330 British and Natal Native Contingement troops marooned at Rorke's Drift, about to be attacked by 4000 Zulu warriors. Approaching rapidly, the reserve amabutho of the Zulu army, led by Prince Dabulamanzi - a man who was driven by pride and personal valor — loyal to his king and brave, yet impulsive compared with Cetshwayo kaMpande's politics of restraint. Dabulamanzi's name means the one who conquers waters, and most apt because he had decided to lead the warriors across the Mzinyathi River into Natal. A literal crossing and a metaphorical defiance. Zulu oral tradition refers to this battle as Shiyane by the way, or kwaJimu, Jims land after Jim Rorke who build the trading store. It was 4pm, January 22nd 1879. The barricades were still going up the drift, the sacks of mielies, the boxes of bully beef and biscuits, when Lieutenant Henderson and Hlubi Molife of the baTlokoa Native contingent rode up with 80 of their men. Lieutenant John Chard of the Royal Engineers who commanded the post realised they'd managed to make their own way across the Mzinyathi pontoon, and he asked the horsemen to reccie up the river beyond Shiyane mountain. If you remember, that was the high point immediately behind Rorke's Drifts two buildings, the house slash hospital, and the trading store, slash church, slash commissariat. Henderson offered to help defend the supply depot - a hollow offer as you'll hear shortly. Chard had been operating blindly since his observers had scurried back down the Shiyane after they realised three groups of Zulu regiments were approaching. Henderson took his mounted unit around the southern flank of the Shiyane where they could observe the territory from higher ground. Moments later scattered shots were heard, and Henderson and his unit galloped up and he shouted “Here they come, as black as hell and as thick as grass…” Henderson and another rider, Bob Hall, lingered for some moments beyond the orchard in front of Rorke's Drift, firing a few shots to the north, then turned and galloped away. They had survived Isandlwana and could not stomach further action. Chard was going to bump into these two later during the Anglo-Zulu war and they would apologize for fleeing and leaving the small group of defenders to fend for themselves. Watching from within the wall of boxes and bags were the Natal Native Contingent, and their commanders. Stevenson's men flung down the sacks they were using to construct the walls, and bolted through the barricades, following Henderson. Their white officers ran away as well, along with their NCOs, including Corporal Anderson. He was a Scandinavian who spoke very little English, and the sight of the men of the NNC he commanded running away, along with their supposed officers, panicked him and he ran off. Soldiers of Bravo Company left behind were enraged, several opened fire on the cowards fleeing the scene. Corporal Anderson was shot through the back of the head - killed instantly. It was another irony of South African history right there. The first man on the British side to die at Rorke's Drift was shot by his own side.

One of the first executive orders President Donald Trump signed after his inauguration last January was titled “Protecting Children from Chemical and Surgical Mutilation.” The order directed the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) to produce a systematic review of pediatric transgender procedures and their impact on children within 90 days.In May 2025, HHS published a more than 400-page review, titled “Treatment for Pediatric Gender Dysphoria: Review of Evidence and Best Practices.” In November last year, an updated, peer-reviewed version was published with additional appendices and supplements.Leor Sapir, a senior fellow at the Manhattan Institute, is one of the report's main outside co-authors. In our in-depth interview, Sapir provides a detailed overview of the review's findings and conclusions.“We tried to be as factual and defensible as we possibly could,” he said.The goal of the report, he says, is to “engage with people in the medical profession who may not be aligned with the administration, but who do care about questions of medical evidence and medical ethics.”In this episode, he breaks down:- The prevalence of sex-changing procedures in the United States, as well as the reversal in approaches in various Scandinavian countries and in the UK.- How misleading and unscientific language was used by professionals across many fields to promote pediatric sex transitioning.- The role of the organization, World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH), in establishing “gender-affirming care” as the accepted standard.- How clinicians, in his view, distorted the principle of patient autonomy to increase pediatric sex change surgeries.There is one chapter in the report that everyone should read, Sapir said. And that is the chapter about ethics.“The question on everybody's mind is: Should we do it? That's an ethical question. And medical ethics is, you would hope, [what] governs the field of medicine,” he told me.Views expressed in this video are opinions of the host and the guest, and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.

In this Omni Talk Retail episode, recorded live from NRF 2026 at the Vusion booth, Jacob Tveraabak, Group Chief Executive Officer of StrongPoint, joins Anne Mezzenga and Chris Walton to discuss how in-store order picking, grocery efficiency, and store-based fulfillment are becoming critical to profitable grocery ecommerce. Jacob explains why grocery presents a fundamentally different operational challenge than other retail categories, driven by high item velocity, low margins, and large basket sizes. Drawing on StrongPoint's Scandinavian roots, he shares how high labor costs have forced retailers to engineer ultra-efficient picking solutions and why those lessons are increasingly relevant for U.S. grocers. Key Topics Covered: -Why grocery order picking requires a fundamentally different technology approach -How labor costs drive efficiency and innovation in Scandinavian retail -The role of in-store picking in profitable grocery ecommerce -Store-based fulfillment vs centralized fulfillment centers -Integrating order picking with shelf visibility and store data -Reducing substitution, mis-picks, and wasted labor -How connected store infrastructure improves execution at scale -Why stores are becoming the backbone of future grocery fulfillment Thank you to Vusion for supporting Omni Talk Retail's live coverage from NRF 2026, and thank you to our listeners for tuning in throughout the week. #NRF2026 #StrongPoint #GroceryRetail #OrderPicking #StoreBasedFulfillment #RetailOperations #ConnectedStores #RetailTechnology #OmniTalkRetail

Hear about travel to the remote region of Skardu, Pakistan, as the Amateur Traveler talks to James Schomburgk about his recent visit to this beautiful mountain region. Why should you go to Skardu? James says, "It is really a step back into time. You're getting exposed to Stan culture, which is quite unique, very different from Southern Pakistan. There's a lot of crossover to the Ladakhi people in India. It's very much Muslim, but very different Muslim." The people there are believed to originated more from European and Iranian looks. So a lot of them are blondes. Many of them have blue or green eyes. A lot of them would look more like Scandinavians. It was quite a shock to see people who looked Scandinavian speaking with a Pakistani Indian accent." "Also, it was just a very interesting culture. Very proud of their culture. And have some real beliefs that, as we were up there, we got quite a few lectures by them about how they believe they should be a separate country. They believe they're very different from the rest of the culture." James's Recommended 7-Day Itinerary for Skardu, Pakistan ... https://amateurtraveler.com/travel-to-skardu-pakistan/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Send us a textGUEST: LIZ COLLIN, Journalist for Alpha NewsThe Christian Worldview has been broadcasting from the Minneapolis area of Minnesota for over 20 years. The city and state were once known for its natural resources, the forested and agricultural regions and “10,000 lakes,” along with its citizens being mostly descendants of Scandinavian countries with a cultural ethos known as “Minnesota Nice.”While there has always been a significant conservative and Christian presence in Minnesota (Billy Graham's ministry was once based here and pastor John Piper is from Minneapolis), the state has leaned liberal for half a century. For example, Ronald Reagan won 49 of 50 states in the 1984 presidential election—you can probably guess the state he didn't.In the last 20 years or so, Minnesota has moved from liberal to radically left. It has declared itself a “sanctuary state” for abortion and transgender mutilation surgeries and treatments. It is known for high taxes to fund liberal welfare policies and immigrants from third world nations like Somalia. It gained international notoriety for the death of George Floyd while in the custody of Minneapolis police officers and the resulting burning of the city by rioters. It is led by far left politicians like Governor Tim Walz, Attorney General Keith Ellison, Congresswoman Ilhan Omar, Minneapolis mayor Jacob Frey, and many more with the same worldview.Just recently, Minneapolis again became the flashpoint of the biggest national news story after a 23-year-old independent journalist from Utah named Nick Shirley came to town on the tip that the Somali Muslim immigrant community, of which there are an estimated 100,000 in the state, are operating the largest scale welfare fraud in history by setting up fake child daycare centers, nutrition and autism services, transportation services, amongst other things, and then billing the state for services that weren't rendered to the tune of an estimated $9 billion. This funded not just lavish lifestyles but Islamic jihadists in Somalia and potentially the Democrat Party.As the enormity of the fraud story was being exposed, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officers entered Minnesota to find and deport illegal immigrants. Not surprisingly, leftist protesters interfered with ICE agents, with one protester being killed after she used her vehicle to block ICE vehicles and then drove toward an officer who shot her dead. Major protests from the left across the country are ongoing.Liz Collin, a Minnesota native and multi-Emmy-Award-winning investigative reporter for Alpha News, joins us this weekend on The Christian Worldview to discuss what is taking place in Minnesota and how it is a critical warning for the rest of the country when leftism and Islamic immigrants hold power.

CONQUEST, THE DANELAW, AND THE EASTERN RUS Colleague Eleanor Barraclough. The conversation shifts from raiding to conquest, detailing the arrival of the "Great Heathen Army" in England around 865. Barracloughexplains that this force was likely comprised of smaller mobile warbands that eventually reached a stalemate with King Alfred, leading to the creation of the Danelaw and lasting linguistic influences on English place names. The discussion then moves east to the "Rus" (rowers) who navigated the waterways of Eurasia. Led by figures like Rurik, these Scandinavians settled in Novgorod and later Kiev, establishing a political foundation in what is now Russia and Ukraine. NUMBER 2

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for January 5, 2026 is: marginalia • mahr-juh-NAY-lee-uh • noun Marginalia is a plural noun that refers to notes or other marks written in the margins of a text, and also to nonessential matters or items. // I loved flipping through my literature textbooks to find the marginalia left behind by former students. // She found the documentary's treatment of not only the major events but also the marginalia of Scandinavian history fascinating. See the entry > Examples: “Marginalia have a long history: Leonardo da Vinci famously scribbled thoughts about gravity years before Galileo Galilei published his magnum opus on the subject; the discovery was waiting under our noses in the margins of Leonardo's Codex Arundel.” — Brianne Kane, Scientific American, 19 Sept. 2025 Did you know? In the introduction to his essay titled “Marginalia,” Edgar Allan Poe wrote: “In getting my books, I have always been solicitous of an ample margin; this not so much through any love of the thing in itself, however agreeable, as for the facility it affords me of penciling suggested thoughts, agreements and differences of opinion, or brief critical comments in general.” At the time the essay was first published in 1844, marginalia was only a few decades old despite describing something—notes in the margin of a text—that had existed for centuries. An older word, apostille (or apostil), refers to a single annotation made in a margin, but that word is rarely used today. Even if you are not, like Poe, simply ravenous for scribbling in your own books, you likely know marginalia as a telltale sign that someone has read a particular volume before you.