As I sip a cup of kvaede tea on the deck of ‘my’ Danish summer house and gaze out across a vast carpet of wild dandelions turning reddish-gold in the light of the rising sun, I have good reason to be pleased with myself. The summer house, located bang on an aquamarine sound, has four bedrooms that can accommodate my entire family under one roof. My toddler daughters are already amongst the dandelions, tugging and blowing at them in glee; my teenage son is fast asleep in his own room after having surfed the Net all night; my 23-year-old is out of his own private bedroom—oh my, what this would have cost in a hotel—and jogging and checking out the girls on the beach; my partner is busy putting the finishing touches to the design plans for our next project, which I can then take full creative credit for; and I’m about to pick up my rod and sneak down to the bottom of the garden to catch lunch. A few horn fish. Perhaps, even a sea trout.