mandag den 9. december 2019

Poetry Monday :: Phones - Updated

  Today it's Monday, Poetry Monday. 
  Diane has set the theme, but dear Diane, Phones ... ? what a theme. Phones are prosaic means of communication - not at all the stuff poems are made of.
  Oh, well, a theme is a theme; and old MotherOwl just rambles along.
  Also participating are: Jenny, Mimi, and Merry Mae. They are all sure to do better than I. 
  I've been improving the poem a bit, corrected some typos (that kind you notice after hitting publish), and added a line or two.

Of course I have a phone,
an old-fashioned one of my own.
Whenever I grasp the bone*
and hear the dial tone,
I'm out of my comfort zone.

I'm known to moan and groan
whenever I pick up the phone.
And the seller, offering loan ...
I'll just put the handset down
With a slam to show off my scone (erm scorn).

Now MotherOwl has flown.
She's leaving computer and phone.
For the crazy winds have blown
Wilted leaves over driveway and stone.

* Danish slang for using a phone, as the old handset looked somewhat like a bone.



Next Monday we'll have Time, courtesy of  Jenny.

torsdag den 5. december 2019

Words for Wednesday -- December 5.

Cindi at Letting the Words Escape has given us these idioms as prompts:
 "Pardon my French."  "My mind is in a fog."  "You are on thin ice."  
I continue my writing of Susan's story, but I have found out that when I write it into a book, many of the chapters will be re-written, moved or even deleted altogether, so don't think that if you have followed the story here, you won't be surprised by reading the book. 

Susan was not the first to return to Unicorn Farm, neither was she the last. The tables in the barn were laden with bread and cold delicacies, and big, steaming pots of tea kept hot by magic.
  Thora and Taavi sat at either side of the doors. And when Susan entered, Taavi told her to place the lantern in one of the crates by the door, eat and drink, get warm and return  to him. She laded a plate and filled up a mug, then she stood by the stove, eating and drinking until she stopped being cold and hungry. She just stood for a few minutes, collecting her thoughts.
  Taavi bade her sit down next to him and tell about what had happened. Susan recounted all of what had happened to her, and ended up by asking if mice really ate candles. "You really listened in on the thoughts of a mouse. That was very good for a second try. Now, please, go and sit somewhere, before talking to anybody else I want you to write down everything you remember. And yes, mice eat candles. It's mostly wax and paraffin after all, not much to live off in that mixture, but totally harmless."
   Susan took her notebook and pencils and sat by a table near the stove. She wrote an account of her meeting with the mouse, and what happened afterwards. This made her remember the stone with a hole, and she pulled it out and looked at it. It was white, but the white was like some sort of rough glazing. Susan tried rubbing and polishing the stone. It did not change. She looked through the hole, and the world seemed just a bit more colourful. Taavi came over to her. "So, you found a lucky stone. What do you know about them?"
  "My aunt hangs them on her house in a string, she collects them. She says they bring luck and keep lightening away. I don't know if it's true or not. I do not remember reading about hem anywhere."
  "Bullshit! Don't people ever teach something useful nowadays? Oh! Pardon my French, Susan," Taavi said when she looked a bit shocked. "I keep forgetting that not all apprentices have wizarding parents."
  Susan smiled at him. "it seems there's more to lucky stones than luck and averting lightening," Susan said. "Could you tell me more. please?"
  "I could, but I do not have the time right now. Either you go to the library and find Stones and their Use by Magical Properties written by   Jasper Flint, or you wait until everyone is back. Or better still, do both. Go to the library, get the book, return here and read. When all green team members have returned, and my duties done, I'll come over and tell you a bit more. I think we can manage before school's out for today."
  "Thank you!" Susan said and ran out through the barn door, over the yard to the old living quarters on the other side. Inside the gate she turned right, opened the small blue door, and ran up two flights of old, hollowed stairs to the second floor of the building. She paused. Where was that library? A long corridor stretched in both directions with lots of doors. The only one she recognized was the one right in front of her. That was the infirmary, more often used as a guest room, and not in use right now. She heard voices coming from the other end of the corridor. Angry voices.
  "You are on thin ice, there!" she recognized Torben's loud voice.
  "Oh, but it is still more white than black, even if a bit grey on the edges." a woman's voice answered. Susan thought it might be Martine or Birgitta.
  "A bit!" Torben said in a loud incredulous voice.
  Susan made a dash for the infirmary door and got inside, not quite closing the door. Quickly and without a sound she pulled a stool behind the curtain in the niche meant for examination of sick people and stood on it.
  The woman's voice answered: "But  you told me to go on and call on him if I wanted."
  "It was a joke for Heaven's sake," Torben pleaded. "I never thought you'd actually do it."
  "Did you hear something? too" the woman asked full of suspicion.
  "No I did not. Old houses like this one are often full of strange noises," Torben answered, "and the door to the infirmary's open. You might have heard it creaking."
  "I'll check," the woman said.
  Susan stood still, clutching the stone. "I just hope she's not going to use magic," Susan thought.
  "No, no-one inside," the woman said and closed the door.
  Susan drew a breath, and realized she had been holding it for a long time. She dared not move until she heard the door to the teachers' rooms close and cutting off the voices. She had only been able to hear a few more words, non e of them meaningful to her. She opened the door and assured herself that nobody was in the corridor any longer. Then she walked away from the teachers' rooms. And on the last door to the left big letters said LIBRARY. Susan went inside, found the book in the section with books on nature and elements, and went down to the barn again with no further mishaps.
  Soon she was immersed in reading about lucky stones.
 "Lucky stones or Holey stones are also known as Holy stones, Wish stones or Witch stones or even Fairy stones. They are often hung by doorways, over beds to refresh your body, mind, and spirit with healing energy, or around the neck of an animal (pet or livestock) to protect from bad luck and to ward off evil spirits."
"Holey stones are know as Eye stones, too and used as truth stones; when looking through the  hole you will know if  another person speaks the truth. You might be lucky and see fairies if looking through the hole at the right time. But remember, fairies are tricky creatures, and do not take kindly to this sort of spying. If the Witch Stone was found in the ocean, looking at the water through the hole may aid you in discovering Sea Spirits, Mermaids and Mermen.  If it was found in a forest, it might help you connect with Dryads (Tree Spirits)."
"They can be used in weather magic for the breaking up of stormy weather. This is done by threading a cord through the hole and swinging it through the air."
"Some sources, especially in German call them Adder Stones or Snake Eggs and say that they offer protection against snake bites."
"Witch Stones are used as anti-magic amulets, because of the common belief that magic cannot work on living water, and since the holes in Witch Stones are made by the force of this element, the stones retain water’s anti-magic properties."

tirsdag den 3. december 2019

Unicorn Farm - Biology Lesson

Perpendicular - Languishing - Virtuous - Pedestrian - Typewriter - Dashing These words are still orphans of last Wednesday. The story continues ... without these words being used.

This biology lesson was strange. Take a lantern with a candle inside. find a place to sit alone, say the appropriate spell, and open up to the wildlife of the Island. The green team spread out, and when Susan no longer could see any of her team mates, she looked for a suitable spot to sit in.
  Susan found an old beech tree in a nice, sunny spot. She placed the lantern on a stump next to the big tree and sat down under the tree. She looked around. No life to be seen, only the leaves moved, not a bird, not a butterfly, not even an ant. But they were asked to restraint themselves to bigger animals, mammals were the best for this first try. Susan tried to open her mind, tried to feel the inhabitants of tree and leaf. She said the spell, carefully articulating the Icelandic syllables, and leaned back against the tree. The sun shone into her eyes, she closed them and listened. The leaves were softly rustling, a branch was rubbing against another with an almost inaudible almost bubbling sound. She considered moving closer to the water, but then again, she did not want to meet the mind of a fish or a crustacean. She would stay here, and hope to meet some sort of animal before she had to light the lantern. Of course she hoped for an owl. She had not forgotten the owls at Granny's clothes line. She had wanted to tell Thora about Granny's owls, but there had not been any opportunity. She wondered what the owls would tell her if they could, how it would be to be an owl, to be able to fly and soar through the air, to see in the dark, sit on the branches of a tree, and have a nest up there. What would owls do in rain, and how did they keep warm in winter? They did not hibernate as the hedgehogs, or fly south as swallows and peewits. 
  The tree she was leaning against had a very rough bark, and her back felt imprinted with marks. She was hungry, so very hungry. "Raisins," she thought, "Oh raisins would be nice. Or cheese. Or sausage. Sausage is better. But here is not any. There's a candle up there. I can eat that." Susan opened her eyes. "Candles? I do not eat candles. What nonsense is this; some kind of dream."
  Then she saw the mouse sitting next to her sandal. "Mouse," she said softly. "Was it your thoughts? Do you want something to eat?"
  The answer was in her brain, a tiny little thing, but very clear: "HUNGRY!" She slowly opened the lantern and pulled out the candle. "Do you really want to eat this?" she said incredulously, and placed the candle on the ground beside her. The mouse smelled the candle, the tiny whiskers twitching with delight. Then it began nibbling. Susan felt the hunger being sated, she leant back once more against the tree and studied the mouse. It was an ordinary house mouse, rather big, brownish, but very thin. She could almost see the ribs under the skin. The whiskers were constantly moving, the beady eyes darting to and fro and the nose was twitching even when the mouse was not eating.
  "What do you smell, little mouse?" Susan asked softly. The answer was a jumble of sensations, warm soil, earthworms, the fatty-brittle feeling of candle on teeth, birds' chirping, mouldy branches, smells of beetles and lizards, Sunshine on hot fur and beechnuts not yet ripe and tongue-curlingly bitter.Susan could only open up to all this, and try to make it meaningful. She tried thinking calming, do not be afraid of me-thoughts at the mouse, but she really had no idea if the mouse understood or not.
  When the mouse had eaten a large bite out of the candle, Susan picked it up again. She broke off the lower half and dropped it to the ground, cramming the upper half back into the holder inside the lantern. "You keep that, little mouse. Now I have to go." Susan said softly.
  And carefully, afraid to scare off the little creature, she got up, took the lantern and made her way to the beach. She walked along the beach, looking for belemnites among the stones on the beach. She did not find any, only a perfect round stone with a hole in it, a lucky stone. She held the stone in one hand and the lantern in the other. She had not wholly understood why the lantern was a necessary prop for calling and listening to animals. Except that it had worked in finding her a hungry mouse.

mandag den 2. december 2019

Poetry Monday :: Humming

 Today is Monday, and Monday means Poetry. 
 Today's theme is Humming from Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey.
 Also participating are:
Diane, Mimi, and Merry Mae.

  The short form and strict rules of haiku speaks to me. But sometimes a haiku seems to serious, too big a form for my petty thoughts. Long ago I was taught that haiku is serious, a polished bauble, a small piece of frozen eternity - like a gem stone. 
  I needed a more flighty kind of short poem with simple rules too. The Elfje is the perfect counterpart.

Humming!
Gentle sound
Busy bees flying
Pollinating flowers and trees.
Gratitude.

Next Monday's theme from Diane At the Border is Phones.

søndag den 1. december 2019

1. søndag i advent

Godt nyt (kirke)år --  Happy New (liturgical) Year

     I dag tænder vi det første lys i adventskransen og finder Jessetræet frem. Hvad Jesetræet er kan man læse lidt om her og mere på min anden blog.

-- 🕯 -- 

 Today we light the first of the four advent candles. We prepare the Jesse tree. What this is, I wrote a bit about  here and some more on my other blog




     Adventstiden er en tid til forberedelse og forventning. Vi nærmer os jul, vi forbereder os til Jesu fødsel. Langsomt gør vi hus og hjerter parate til den store aften.


Der er ingen adventsting i de tilgængelige emojis, så et hvidt lys må gøre det.
 -- 🕯 -- 
 There's no advent thingy in the emojis, we have to use a white candle.


Advent is a time of preparing and of waiting. We're getting cloer to Christmas. We're preparing house and hearts to celebrate the birth of Jesus.