Words for Wednesday ~ January 21

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
    When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
    Now, after Sue's demise it is still to be discerned who will take over this role, River is doing it for the rest of 2025, but maybe Lissa will eventually be our new coordinator.

No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.

This month the words are again supplied byWiseWebWoman and can be found at River's blog.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

We were given these words:
Absolution
Auschwitz
Love
Resistance
Without
     and/or:
Dancing
Dreams
Ears
Eyes
Talking

Still too grown-uppish for Unicorn Farm, but some of them might do for the mystery of the Lorenzoes? This took me a while to write, it's a bit incoherent, but it is what it is, and not much of the Lorenzoes in it either, sorry.

Next morning Susan awoke early. She tiptoed to the bathroom and looked at her backpack. It was a total loss, green in blobs and patches, grimy and the fabric had cracked and curled here and there. But the items inside mostly had survived. Only the edges of her diary and sketchbook had a greenish tinge to the edges, but it was OK, a memory of the crazy day at the library.
After having a quick wash and braiding her hair, Susan sat down at the window sill trying to draw the view and describe the day yesterday. All those Lorenzos. and all those mad people.

Some time later Knud also stirred, he waddled to the bathroom, patting Susan's head in passing, which she loved, and returned shortly afterwards, fit for a new day.

"You do need a new backpack, don't you?" he asked warmly.
"I sure do," Susan agreed, "that one os not good for anything any more. I think I'll just put my stuff in that tote bag from the hotel and ..."
"And then we'll have to find you a new backpack." Knud interrupted. "Florence is famous for its leaterworking, we should be able to find a new one for you!"
"Oh fabulous, I imagind having to carry this tote bag all through Europe."
"Won't do," Knud said, Let's get going."
They walked along. When they reached the church of Santa Croce a big poster caught their attention.
"Get your absolution here!" it said, then in smaller letters: "On August 2nd we celebrate the Porziuncula indulgence. Be prepared!"
"I like that!" Knud said.
"So do I," Susan said. "But I forgot that Santa Croce is a Franciscan church. It's so very overwhelming, not like the other Franciscan churches, we've seen."
"Too right," Knd agreed, "but it still is a Franciscan church. And I think we should grasp the opportunity, August 2nd is in three days."
"I'd love to," Susan said, and it seems that resistance is futile," she said looking at the next banner featuring - of course - Lorenzo dei Medici summoning them to the occasion as well. "What's his connection here?" Susan asked in a surprised tone, I thought all them Medicis were buried in San Lorenzo."
"They are," Knud replied. "As to why Lorenzo is portrayed, not a clue. His grandfather, Cosimo did commission lots of wok on this church. I do not remember Lorenzo doing anything, but he might be chosen for the looks."
"He might at that," Susan admitted, "But oh, look: Scuola di Cuoio, they must do leatherworking."
They sure did, but the prices were enough to let Susan and Knud leave the shop without doing more than looking and touching. Even the sight of some items with the Medici arms did not tempt them.
"So much money for a backpack!" Susan said in a shocked voice when thy were far enough away from the establishment, "and you even had to order one for delivery within four months. Let's find somewhere a bit more humble. They were also not that great. I'd like something a bit more more practical, spacious and homely," she added.

They had a cappuccino in a street not far away, but down some streets, and obviously in a place not frequented by tourists. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams, and the paint flaked in the corners, but the coffee was excellent. They walked onwards, always choosing the humbler looking of the streets, away from the tourist traps. In the end they found a street of leather shops, not fancy ones, with handwritten signs only in Italian, and with prices more within their range.
"Now, this is where ordinary people buy their stuff, I dare bet," Knud said. Susan just nodded, she had seen something.
"That bag," Susan said with her nose very close to a shop window, "it looks maybe a bit old and faded from the sunlight, but I think it might be the backpack of my dreams. Roomy, lots of pockets, nothing fancy-pants about it, but good workmanship, as far as I can see al least."
Knud looked at it, and the owner of the shop arrived. After some back and forth, where both of them hat to prick up their ears to follow the Florentine shop owner, Susan asked if she could touch the bag. "Go on," the man said, "try it on even. It is good quality," the man said, having understood that they were foreigners, he now spoke in short sentences. Susan smiled and examined the backpack with eyes and fingers, she like everything. Many small rooms and pockets, not taking away from the inner bag, but attached to it on the outside, sturdy broad straps, a broad lid, closing securely and looking like it could keep out the rain. And to finish it all off a fleur de lys imprinted, to remind her of its origin. She tried it on, and it fit her long body as if it was made for her.
"Aï," the shop owner said, "you're a tall one. None of the locals could use it. Special price for you," he continued, and mentioned a really fair price. "I'll use it here and now, please" Susan answered, when asked if she wanted it wrapped. He gave Susan a small tin of something: "Leather treatment," he said. It needs some after its long stay in my window. Susan thanked him, and added. "Will do, this evening" She proceeded to transfer her stuff into it, while Knud paid and added an extra banknote, saying: "This is for talking to us as if we were human beings, and not idiotic tourists." The shop owner gave him a huge smile and hugged and kissed them both for good measure, and then they walked away smiling.

Poetry Monday :: Piece of Clothing

Mandagsdigtet er en blogleg, som Mimi fra Messymimi's Meanderings og jeg har overtaget - midlertidigt! - fra Diane, der slapper af og rejser verden rundt med sin mand. Vi håber hun er parat til at tage over igen, når hun kommer hjem.
     Stikordene kommer nu  fra 365 Days of Drawing Prompts and other Arts. Det er en Facebook-gruppe, der udgiver et stikord til hver dag i året, men bare rolig, stikordene vil stadig være at finde både her og på Mimis blog.

Dagens stikord er: Et stykke tøj

På engelsk har jeg skrevet en hyldest til det ældste stykke tøj jeg ejer. Jeg fik det forærende en kold og blæsende efterårsdag i 1979 - ja det er gammelt! - det virker endnu, slidt, bevares, og nogle af sømmene er blevet syet igen, men stoffet var helt indtil et ondt stykke ståltråd lavede en lille rift på en cm. sidste sommer. Jeg bruger det stadig i haven, og jeg tror nok det holder nok min tid ud.
     Deter ikke blevet til noget på dansk, beklager, men måske senere ...

- -  A  - -  B  - -  C  - -

Poetry Monday - what's that? It is a blogging game, that Mimi of Messymimi's Meanderings and I have taken over the hosting duties, mostly the supplying of the prompts - only temporarily we hope - while Diane at On the Border is taking a break for health and relaxation, travelling the world with her husband as far as we can tell.  We just hope she's going to take back over once she returns home.

The prompts now come from 365 Days of Drawing Prompts and other Arts group. This is a Facebook group with a prompt for each day of the year, but no worries, the prompts will still be here and at Mimi's blog.

Today's prompt is: Piece of Clothing

I was inspired to write an ode to my oldest clothing item. It was given to me a cold and windy autumnal day in 1979 -- really, yes. It's that old -- and I've used it ever since. Some of the sewings have been redone, the fabric's worn, but no holes until a piece of wire caught it this last summer causing a small tear, approximately one cm. I still use it, mostly in the garden, but I suspect it'll outlast me given half a chance.

You are so old, but still you're fine
For many years you have been mine
you fit me still, though I have grown
you are the oldest piece I own

If you could talk, what could you say?
I'd listen to you all the day
You'd been with me to many lands
Seen mountains tall and shining sands.

Been splashed upon in waters cold
and sneaked through customs - you were bold.
You've helped me out, you've worn my load
and more than once you housed a toad.

You've hidden babies, held us warm
kept rain away, seen many storm.
Now you are worn more blue than black
My good old faithful anorak


- - - - - -  - Coming Themes  - - - - - - - -

taken from the 365 Days of Drawing Prompts and other Arts group.

Jan 19 Piece of clothing
Jan 26 That one time
Feb 2 Bamboo
Feb 9 Carousel
Feb 16 Plants with berriesb

Sunday Selection :: A year agoSøndagsbilleder :: for et år siden

A year ago I was in Copenhagen, and went shopping. I was surprised over how good a supermared could be, still, and even within the limits of the discount-chain

For et år siden var jeg til møde i København og gik på indkøb derefter. Og jeg blev positivt overrasket over hvor god en Coop butik kunne være.

Inside, some of the shelves -- Indenfor, nogle af hylderne

The entrance - Indgangen

Diinner next day - Aftensmad næste dag.

And in all these photos we find   ~   Og i alle biullederne er der

the colour of January   ~    januars farve

Words for Wednesday :: Birch Manor - In Italy again

🪄
Wednesday we were given these Words, supplied byWiseWebWoman and to be found at River's blog:
Garrote
Kisses
Neck
Philanthropist
Pragmatism
     and/or:
Balconies
Decadence
Entertainment
Genius
Public

     I said that I found them too grown-uppish for Unicorn Farm, and they are, but I still have dangling story lines from later on.
   What about a return to Italy and the mystery of the Lorenzoes?

The rather incoherent Chapters can be found on this blog:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Or in their entirety - and a bit corrected - on my dedicated Unicorn Farm/Birch Manor -blog

This piece is supposed to go between chapters 2 and 3.

On their way out from the library, Susan stopped in the front hall at the guest book. It too was old, and chained to the table in a mock up or the old books inside the library proper. Susan flipped through the pages, back to the very beginning of the book. It was old, maybe chained for a reason after all, of course it did not go all the way back to 1571, but the first posts in the book were over two centuries old.
One of the entries were strange, the names entwined and surrounded by a garrote. Susan could read only Medici, and called Knud over to aid her. He did no better, and a young assistant came running up to them. "This is a strange tale," he told them. "It's called the story of the stolen kisses, and in that tale one man loses his neck, and another his true love. It's a tale of true love, a disillusioned philanthropist and pragmatism leading to the ruin of them all."
In his fervour to speak to them and tell his tale, he toppled the inkwell and green ink cascaded down over Susan's backpack and the floor, luckily missing the old book totally.
He pulled out a handkerchief, and excusing profusely, and tried in vain to mop up the ink, only spreading it even more, and rubbing it into Susan's backpack. Knud curtly told him off and he and Susan hurried towards their lodgings in an old, decrepit palazzo nearby.
They hurried, taking a shortcut where the low hanging balconies were a danger for  the tall Knud, and where the traces of decadence from past centuries normally were of great entertainment for them. Not so tonight.
"Genius," Susan spat out, "telling stories that sounds like something from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's pen and ruining my bag. Are they really mad all of the people at that library?"
"It's strange," Knud agreed, "it's public knowledge that the Medicis were a wicked bunch back in the days, so why all this cloak and dagger mysteries?"

Dragedag :: Appreciate a Dragon-day

I dag er det dragedag      ~    Today is Apprciate a Dragon day.
Vis en drage frem? Ja tak!  ~  Would I ever miss the opportunity to show a dragon?

Den her drage er en måned for tidligt på den ~   This here dragon is a month early
det er først kinesisk nyår om en måned.   ~  Chinese new Year is in a month.