Frostmorgen -- Frosty Morning

     I nat var det atter frostvejr. Det er flot, men frygteligt. Havens planter er døde nu. Vi håber bare at chilierne i domen er overlevet med overdækning og stearinlys.

-- ❄ --

Tonight it froze. It is beautiful and terrible. All the plants in the garden are dead now. We hope that the chilies in the dome survived thanks to being covered and having lit candles at their sides.

Laurbærrene kom indenfor i sikkerhed.
The laurls were placed inside out of the frost.

Grøntsagsspiservisen

English summary:

   One of my idols, the Norwegian Thorbjørn Egner, wrote a song called the Vegetable Eaters' Song. In the book Dyrene i Hakkebakkeskoven (The Animals of Huckybucky Forest) it is sung to celebrate the new law, prohibiting all inhabitants of the forest to eat one another.
  I have re-translated bits of it, because I think that the vegetarian bias present in the Danish version is not true to the original's more bantering spirit.

-- 🥕 --

     For en gangs skyld vil Uglemor tillade sig at kritisere Halfdan Rasmussen. Hans oversættelser af sangene fra Thorbjørn Egners bøger er jo ellers helt geniale, og Thorbjørn Egner forbedrede endda engang en af sangene efter at have læst Halfdans oversættelse.
     Men lige Grønstagsspisevisen fra Dyrene i Hakkebakkeskoven synes Uglemor ikke han har været heldig med. Som den fremstår nu, er den nærmest en slags vegetarernes kampsang.
     Det synes Uglemor ikke passer til den legende og sammenholds-opfordrende tone i bogen. Visen er jo i bogen skrevet for at fejre den nye lov efter hvilken dyrene i Hakkebakkeskoven ikke længere må æde hinanden. Og så synes hun også at det er synd og skam at pebernødderne ikke er med på dansk. Bogen handler jo trods alt også om peberkager.

Her er så først den norske original:

Den som spiser pølsemat og kjøttmat hele dagen,
han blir så doven og så lat og veldig tjukk i magen.

Men den som spiser gulrøtter, knekkebrød og peppernøtter,
tyttebær og bjørnebær og kålrot og persille.
Han blir sånn passe mett i magen, glad og lystig hele dagen
og så lett i bena at han ikke kan stå stille.


Den som vil ha bare kjøtt og spiser sine venner,
han blir så doven og så trøtt og får så stygge tenner.
Men den som spiser gulrøtter, knekkebrød og peppernøtter,
tyttebær og bjørnebær og kålrot og persille.

Han blir så grei mot dem han kjenner og får mange gode venner,
og får like fine tenner som en krokodille.


Og så Uglemors udgave af Halfdan Rasmussens oversættelse fra 1953:

Den som spiser flæskesteg og store røde bøffer
Bli'r dum og blød som bolledej og går omkring og øffer

Men, den som spiser gulerødder, knækkebrød og pebernødder,
stikkelsbær og tyttebær og grønkål og persille.
Han bli'r så godt tilpas i maven, glad og lystig, aldrig gnaven,
benene bli'r lette, så han ikke kan stå stille


Den som vil ha' kød hver dag og æder sine venner,
han får en bred og doven bag og grimme, gule tænder.

Men, den som spiser gulerødder, knækkebrød og pebernødder,
stikkelsbær og tyttebær og grønkål og persille. 
Han æder ikke sine venner, men er flink mod dem han kender
og får ligeså stærke tænder som en krokodille.

Poetry Monday :: Tuna

 This Monday's theme is: Tuna from  Diane - who's momentarily not posting due to technical difficulties.
 Also Participating in this fun is Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey and Mimi at  Messymimi's Meanderings
  Well the theme is set.  Ready, start, rhyme!

 I made several mistakes posting this. I forgot the links, I posted an empty post, I forgot to name it, and finally I typed in Moanday instead of Monday.  And this is a tell tale of my relationship with tuna.  It's a love-hate one really. 
 Here's what one hour of staring at a blank piece of paper resulted in:

The TUNA's a big and beautiful fish.
That is in the sea, and not in my dish.


Now, after declaring my total failure in eating as well as writing of Tuna.  I'm off to see what others did. 
Next week's theme is Busy Days. Thanks Jenny. 

Glad Verjmelding -- Happy Weatherforecast

     Normalt er vejrmeldingen på denne årstid ikke noget, der gør Uglemor glad. Heller ikke i dag, og så alligevel. Prøv at kigge nærmere på vejrmeldingen her:

-- 🌧️ --

 Normally the weather forecast is not making MotherOwl happy this time of year, but today is special. Look closer at this one.

Bedre Vejr & DMI

     Kan det ses? Mellem vejrsymbolerne for klokken 0 og 3 i nat? Der er lidt ekstra plads. Ja nemlig. ... Sommertids-uvæsenet  slutter søreme i nat!
     Hurra! Velkommen normaltid!

-- 🌤 --

 Do you see it? Between the clouds at 0 and 3 o'clock tonigth? There's some extra space. ... Yup, it's true. Tonigth we say bye-bye to Dayligth Saving Time!
 Yippie!

Og endnu en svamp -- And yet another Mushroom

     I dag plukkede Uglemor som sagt trompetsvampe i skoven. De var store og flotte. Uglemor fik lyst til at tegne sådan en svamp, ja Uglemor har noget med svampe!
     Egentlig synes Uglemor ikke at hendes tegnegaver er fantastiske, men da det er InkTober og svampen faktisk passer til dagens stikord: Velsmagende, så er original og tegning lige her. Listen over InkTober stikord er også kommet med.

-- 🍄 --

 Today MotherOwl picked some Black trumpets for dinner. They were big and beautiful. MotherOwl felt like drawing one of them. And yes, MotherOwl has a soft spot for mushrooms.
 MotherOwl do not think her drawing skills merits publishing. But it is InkTober, and the mushroom fits today's prompt: Tasty.
  Here they are. Origial, drawing and prompt list.  

Endnu flere svampe -- Even more Mushrooms

     I dag cyklede Uglemor hjem gennem skoven. I dag stoppede Uglemor ved det allerældste svampested. I dag spiser vi atter svampe i Uglebo.

-- 🍄 --

 Today MotherOwl biked home throug the woods. Today MotherOwl stopped at her very first mushroom spot. Today we'll once again eat mushrooms in the Owlery.

Stor trompetsvamp; de er meget store i år -- Horn of Plenty or Black Trumpet; they are very big this year.

Flere svampe -- More Mushrooms

  Så tog vi atter i skoven. Atter plukkede vi svampe og inviterede de lækreste med hjem til middag.

-- 🍄 --

  Once again we went to the woods. Once again we met lots of mushrooms. Once again the most delicious ones were brought home for dinner.

Poetry Monday :: Soap

Diane is as always posting the themes for Poetry Monday. This Monday the theme is Soap, given to us by Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey.  
Also Participating in this fun is Mimi at  Messymimi's Meanderings
  Well the theme is set. Ready, start, rhyme!

For years now I've been making soap
Round soaps, square soaps, soaps on a rope,
Soaping is an antidote to the mopes,
For soaps are always filled with hopes.
I've made more soaps than  I care to count.
Yes even soaps in copious amount.
Then how do I do.
I'll tell you too: 
I'm going to get a couple of those a couple of these
Things from the bushes and things from the trees.
I blend the oils, and mix a batch
It is a game of mix and match
Heat them
Beat them
And fill up the mould.
Wait two days I have been told
Then cut them, and put them on a rack to dry
for a period of time - all of six weeks.
Oh, my patience to try.
Hope for no lye leaks
Hope for no orange spot,
If they come it is back in the pot!
Then it's time for a test.
Bathing and bubbling! this is the best!

-- 💖 --

Did you spot my citation? 
the lines:
I'm going to get a couple of those a couple of these
Things from the bushes and things from the trees.
is stolen from  Chomper's song Friends for Dinner (The Land before Time V)
Next week's theme is: Tuna from Diana - who's momentarily not posting due to tecnical difficulties.  

Svampe -- Mushrooms

Vi var på skovtur i dag. Vi så masser af svampe. Vi plukkede en pæn portion svampe. Vi tog også masser af billeder. Her er et par stykker.

-- 🍄 --

Today we went to the woods. Today we saw lots and lots of mushrooms. Today we picked some mushrooms. Today we took a lot of photos. Here are some of them.

My Bucket List -- Part 2

Here I repeat a few lines from My Bucket List. And then I continue with my Have done list. It is very long.

So many places I haven't been
So many wondrous sights unseen!
• • •

     - - 💖 - -
 
Oh, all these are but dreams and dust.
I have to stay at home, I must. 
The children, they have yet to grow,
Though I feel old, they are not so.

But I can sit me down and think
Of all the things I've heard and seen
And I can tell, here on the screen
What I have done. Well paint me pink.

I've sledged down a mountain side
Sat on a camel for a ride,
Shot guns and bows
And held a fire hose.
I have known feast and famine too
Gone hungry to bed
Not a crumb of bread
But live I did, learned to make do!

Seen forest fires and deserts grand.
I've been to many a foreign land.
How many? Well, I cannot count,
As many are no more around.
I've been shot at in Damascus once.
I've candied quince,
Dined with a prince,
And also stayed for days with nuns,

I've heard the nightingale at nights.
Seen jousting, mediaeval knights.
Heard Jessie Norman sing as young
and almost unknown, she was strong!
I have heard mastersingers sing
In Salzburg - singing of The Ring.
Heard Papageno win his love
The Queen of Night watched from above.

I've been to Khartoum Porto, Rome.
Eaten simit in Izmir, seen St. Peter's tomb,
Been to Dubrovnik before the war
and even wished upon a star.
I've eaten bread with beetles, yes!
At least in bread
they were baked and dead
In biscuits - well, I'll let you guess.

I've seen a lion, climbed a fence
I've made both enemies and friends. 
And walked along a coast of sand,
Played guitar in a country band.
Slept in a hut with palm leaf roof,
Swam in the Nile,
Met a crocodile
And cut myself - with scars as proof.

I've held newborn pigs
Harvested figs.
I've taught at school,
And rode a mule. 
I've been at sea one stormy night.
I've built a dome,
And made a home.
I've seen the Pyramids, a sight

I've climbed a mountain,
Changed a tire,
Ate Italian ice-cream
And hugged a friar. 
I have learned Japanese and French
Eaten olives from a tree
Been to jail and set free.
In Salzburg I've sat on a bench.

I've been to the Oktoberfest -
The pretzels were the very best.
I've crossed the polar line in May
It also snowed a bit that day.
Given birth to a child, yes even more,
Fed sheep and goat.
I've rowed a boat.
One night sold burgers in a store.

I've met the Pope
Walked a tight rope.
Worked in a trapeze.
And tended bees.
I've been to London, rode the tube,
Picked mushrooms in fall.
I've knit a shawl,
and learned to solve the Rubik's cube.

I've eaten many a strange meal
from brain of mutton
to balls of veal.
I must admit I am a glutton
For things I have not tasted yet.
The worst thing I have ever tried?
Is fat from goat's ears, cooked and dried.
And Surströmning I did regret!

I've worked at an assembly line,
And nearly drowned in tidal brine.
I drove a bus down hairpin bends,
so sharp that sparks flew from both ends.
I've swam at night into the sea
Been baked in sunshine, drenched in rain.
I've baked a bread from newcut grain
And pilfered mango from a tree. 

My life has been so full and long
And yet I feel it went not wrong.
It ends with a romantic word
The best is even to be heard:
I've been married more than half my life -
He is my man, and I his wife.

     - - 👵 - -

Now I feel old, The things so small -
I never used to see at all -
Now bother me, and ruin my day.
I think I have no more to say.

Poetry Monday :: Our Bucket List!

Diane gave us Our Bucket List, or I suppose my bucket list? 
 I do not have a written, dedicated bucket list. Of course I have things I would like to do, and see, and try, but it's not the stuff you normally see on such lists.
 Well the theme is set. Ready, start, rhyme!

So many places I have not been,
so many wondrous sights unseen:

  I'd like to find the rainbow's end and win myself a pot of gold.
Because I like to feast and share
I do not like meals to be spare.
  Another thing, I'd like to do: see a new continent - yes I'm bold
Australia would be my choice
For kangaroos would bring me joys.
  And then I always wanted to be a pilgrim, and I'm told
that Santiago used to be the end
of Spain, I'd like to visit there again
  I've never soared through skies above. And I would sure like to behold
My house from a hot air balloon,
On a nice, cloudless day in June.
  But what I want to most of all is to grow oh, so very old.
Because I'm curious, you know,
I want to see my children grow.
And stay with hubby, grow a tree,
I'd be so happy - as you see. 

          -- o 🛤 o --

 And writing this Bucket List made me realize just how many things I have already done.  I have lived a full, variegated, sometimes daredevilish life, When I look back, I think I must be 100 years or more. (I'm not 60 yet). 
 So a part 2 - a Have Done list will follow soon.

Blogger has mended its ways

  As often a bug report to Blogger or Mozilla does not seem to work. But when I complain on my blog the matter is resolved within a few hours, never more than a day. It might of course be coincidence - I rather believe it is 😀.
   Be it as it might. I can now replace my header, buttons and so on when- and however I like. Yay!

And maybe, just maybe you noticed my new soap-blog-button. (If not, scroll down) Lissa from The Memory of Rain has made it for me. If you like it, go and visit her blog - you can even throw in a comment to win a re-design of your blog header.

Words for Wednesday - 2 October -- Susan in Paris

The Words for Wednesday for October is at Elephant's Child's blog. I think she already posted tomorrow's words. I'm hopelessly behind. This little cameo from my childhood was what I could do with the words. 

curse
petrified
Pogo stick
little
Paris
assistant

And/or

rooster
happiness
immortal
dark
stormy
knights

 Susan was with her family in Paris. She enjoyed her stay, but felt so sorry for all the petrified gargoyles on the roof of the Notre Dame basilica. She felt ever so tempted to un-petrify them, but she had promised both Thora and Gilvi not to use any magic whatsoever in France. It would be too dangerous.
 One of the times it was very hard for her to keep that promise was when the shop assistant kept imploring her to buy a book. She could just not understand enough of what he said to grasp whether he was warning her not to buy he book or contrariwise trying to make her buy it. In the end her Mum bought it and the little assistant was all smiles. Mum's guess had been right. That evening at the hotel while mum and dad took a nap and Linda was busy playing one of her interminable game & watch games, Susan leafed thorough the book.
 It was written in an old font, almost illegible, but with illustrations of gargoyles and gryphons and other strange animals. On the last pages was an index, written larger and with the Latin names in ordinary letters. Suddenly it dawned on Susan. The bestiary was written in German, they used to print books in those funny letters. Now she could read parts of it. Slowly she laboured through a chapter on roosters. It was interesting, but speculative, to put it mildly. When she reached a paragraph on black roosters and immortality she closed the book and hid it on the bottom of her suitcase.
 When Mum and Dad returned, the bright day had turned into a dark and stormy evening. Well girls dad said, as this is our last night in Paris, we've decided to eat at "The 7 Knights". It should be one of the best, most authentic French restaurant around here.
 They all washed and put on their best clothes. The dinner was awesome good. The girls and mum and dad ate a lot of different dishes, not daring to ask what was in them but only enjoying the different tastes, textures and colours. It was pure happiness.
 When they had eaten their way through all the main dishes, there was a break before the desserts were served. Susan and Linda looked at the chef preparing whipped cream in a strange contraption.
 Susan began laughing and said to Linda: "Do you remember that funny cartoon where Gyro Gearloose is trying to whip cream by jumping around on a Pogo stick with a canister of cream strapped to his back."
"Yes," Linda said, "and that contraption reminds me of your red Pogo stick. I see the connection." The girls quietly laughed together.

When we arrived home from Paris, Susan's only thought was the book in her suitcase.
 

And here I stop. I missed one word. Maybe I can sneak it into (hopefully) tomorrow's story.

Poetry Monday :: Paper

This Monday's theme is Paper, courtesy of Jenny of Procrastinating Donkey.

Inspired by that same lady, I dug into my old Haiku and found this one. It is the only haiku, I ever wrote in French, and that is why you get first the French original, then an English and a Danish rewrite of it - I won't call it translations as poetry in my mind is not translated, but rather re-created in another language. 

La neige tombait.
Blanche comme papier virginal.
Qui y peut écrire?

World covered in snow
As white as unused paper.
Where is the writer?

Sneen dækker alt
Hvid som det tomme papir
Hvem skriver tekster?


The English and Danish versions have been published in: Danish Haiku Today 2012. 
Next Monday's theme is Our Bucket List given by Diane. 

Blogger has blown a fuse or something

 As we had a frost night MotherOwl would like to showcase the GardenOwl surrounded by this terrible beayty. But Blogger just gave me this error message: Invalid image url (uploading from my computer - no url's here!)  and removed my old header at the same time.
 Please imagine this in place of the Header.

     Her er det billede, der skulle have været øverst på bloggen.
     Blogger er nemlig  blevet kulret eller sådan noget.
     Da Uglemor forsøgte at lægge en ny header op med dette uhyggeligt skønne billede af Haveuglen i frostvejr, åd den det gamle og gav en fejlmelding, der gik ud på at billedet på min computer havde en ugyldig webadresse.