If you want to read some good poetry today you got to head elsewhere. To
- Diane - who has taken over the hosting of this challenge
- and Mimi of
Messymimi's Meanderings (who also supplies us with topics)
They are both writing wonderful, funny,
thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and
read.
- Karen of
Baking in a Tornado
has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises to join in at least once a month -
maybe that's today!
- SpikesBestMate
often publishes a nice verse in the comments.
- Jenny at
Procrastinating Donkey
who has been a faithful participant, is taking a break due to her husband's passing from
this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of
prayers her way.
I have something more to ask of you: If you read the
poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the
fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.
As Memorial Day is not celebrated in Denmark, and I am not one for worshipping soldiers and war efforts in general, no poeming will happen here today.
I could of course compose a poem in honour of everyone who ever died for their country, but I think this is not what this day is all about.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Topics coming up:
Best Friends Day (from June 8) (June 7)
Monkey Around Day (June 14)
Fathers (June 21)
Bubbles (June 28)
Blogger putter stadig tilfældige kommentarer i spamfængsel. Jeg lover at slippe dem ud hurtigst muligt.
Blogger is still randomly putting comments in spam-jail. I promise to free them as fast as possible.
mandag den 31. maj 2021
onsdag den 26. maj 2021
Words for Wednesday - May 26
This May the Words for Wednesday are over at MessyMimi's Meanderings's blog. For today we were given:
love
ocean
savour
detail
charge
childlike
and/or
last
broadcast
lick
system
crash
shocking
Remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please place a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.
These words had me back in time, and of course a story from the Unicorn Farm formed in my mind. We're back to one of the very first days, probably the third day for the apprentices at the Unicorn Farm. Oh and I took up my favourite additional challenge: Use the words in the order they were given.
Susan loved the smell of the ocean, and today the soothing breeze from the ocean drifted in through the open windows at the Unicorn Farm. She savoured the smell, while concentrating on what Jon was telling them. All the apprentices were gathered in the Barn, the small one man tables from the previous day were still there, and they sat in the same places as yesterday. Pencils and notebooks lay on a small neat stack in front of each of them. The subject-notebooks clearly marked with colours and symbols, but the personal notebook was as yet a non-descript grey.
Jon spoke of premonitions, which seemed to be a precursor of prediction, or maybe a thing in its own right. It was a bit confusing, she had always been taught that thinking things over, not following your heart or even worse your gut sense, was what brought you home. And here Jon stood, big, dark skinned and smiling, telling them all that premonitions, warnings and even predictions were real, were a part of life, and were important. Susan remembered Dad and his brothers smiling at Aunt Cleo's predictions of the future. Not to her face of course, but behind her back, or on the was home.
"Apprentices," Jon said, "now that your magic has been awakened, you will remember details from earlier times. They might seem to jump out on you, loom larger than life or be inconsequential to you. I charge you now to think back. Find one instance where a premonition made you do something - or abstain from doing something - and where this choice had some sort of consequences. Nothing is too big or too small, nothing is too childlike. I just ask you to have an open mind. Nobody has to see what you wrote, if you would not like to share."
'Why did he need to talk this pompous-like' Susan thought to herself. 'Or maybe it was just the language spell ... ' It made it a bit hard to follow his train of thoughts, and furthermore, Susan was disinclined to believe in premonitions. Then she recalled how she and Mum almost always were ready to leave at the same time, how they started saying the same things, and how they tried not to do so because Dad laughed at them and said that they were worse than Aunt Cleo and her coffee grounds and cards.
Then Susan's thoughts drifted back in time to the summer before this one. They were on their usual family holiday, travelling south by car. Dad as always trying to get the car radio broadcast the Danish news, and it always had him licked. And Mum as always chiding him for his Viking attitudes.
They were somewhere mountainous, France she thought, or maybe Italy, sometimes she had a hard time remembering where the city, she had in mind were placed. They had been to both countries last summer. France, she thought, that was the most likely place, as it had been one of the first days.
The small family was standing in line for a cable car when she was suddenly caught by a wave of panic. She did NOT want to enter one of the gondolas. Susan was not inordinately afraid of heights, nor did she normally shy away from these means of transportations, but in this case she was adamant.
She sat down on a low wall, declaring: "Fine! Mom and Dad, you can go up there with Linda if you like, but I'll stay here waiting for you."
"Don't you like cable cars?" Mum asked.
"I don't mind them," Susan said, "but I'm not going up there today."
"That cable system has been running for more than 100 years," Dad said in an impatient voice. "It's been recently inspected, as you can see from this poster. It will run for 100 more."
"Might be," Susan said evenly. "But not with me on board."
There was nothing doing. She had a case of the stubborns. In the end they all left the line and drove out of the small town heading for a bigger town and some lunch. As they left the village, the church bell stroke 12 noon, the bells sounding out a long and intricate carillon.
Nothing more was spoken of this incident during the trip. They climbed church towers, visited dungeons and even crossed a foaming river on a dancing bridge.
A day or two after their return home, Mum, who was sorting the mail having accumulated in their absence, came into the girls' room with a newspaper in her hand, white in the face.
"Susan," she said in a shaking voice. "That cable car you refused to get on, you remember?" Susan nodded. "It crashed. It is here in this old paper." She pointed to a small news article, no photos, only the simple news: "Tuesday the 25th of June at 12.15 the cable car to the summit in XXX (Susan did no longer recall the name of the city) met with an accident. One of the cables frayed and snapped, and all the gondolas fell to the ground. The number of dead and injured are yet to be determined, as victims were taken to different hospitals in the surrounding towns."
Shocked to her inner being she realized that only her magic had kept her and her family from being in that accident. She grasped pencil and notebook and began writing.
ocean
savour
detail
charge
childlike
and/or
last
broadcast
lick
system
crash
shocking
Remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please place a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.
These words had me back in time, and of course a story from the Unicorn Farm formed in my mind. We're back to one of the very first days, probably the third day for the apprentices at the Unicorn Farm. Oh and I took up my favourite additional challenge: Use the words in the order they were given.
Susan loved the smell of the ocean, and today the soothing breeze from the ocean drifted in through the open windows at the Unicorn Farm. She savoured the smell, while concentrating on what Jon was telling them. All the apprentices were gathered in the Barn, the small one man tables from the previous day were still there, and they sat in the same places as yesterday. Pencils and notebooks lay on a small neat stack in front of each of them. The subject-notebooks clearly marked with colours and symbols, but the personal notebook was as yet a non-descript grey.
Jon spoke of premonitions, which seemed to be a precursor of prediction, or maybe a thing in its own right. It was a bit confusing, she had always been taught that thinking things over, not following your heart or even worse your gut sense, was what brought you home. And here Jon stood, big, dark skinned and smiling, telling them all that premonitions, warnings and even predictions were real, were a part of life, and were important. Susan remembered Dad and his brothers smiling at Aunt Cleo's predictions of the future. Not to her face of course, but behind her back, or on the was home.
"Apprentices," Jon said, "now that your magic has been awakened, you will remember details from earlier times. They might seem to jump out on you, loom larger than life or be inconsequential to you. I charge you now to think back. Find one instance where a premonition made you do something - or abstain from doing something - and where this choice had some sort of consequences. Nothing is too big or too small, nothing is too childlike. I just ask you to have an open mind. Nobody has to see what you wrote, if you would not like to share."
'Why did he need to talk this pompous-like' Susan thought to herself. 'Or maybe it was just the language spell ... ' It made it a bit hard to follow his train of thoughts, and furthermore, Susan was disinclined to believe in premonitions. Then she recalled how she and Mum almost always were ready to leave at the same time, how they started saying the same things, and how they tried not to do so because Dad laughed at them and said that they were worse than Aunt Cleo and her coffee grounds and cards.
Then Susan's thoughts drifted back in time to the summer before this one. They were on their usual family holiday, travelling south by car. Dad as always trying to get the car radio broadcast the Danish news, and it always had him licked. And Mum as always chiding him for his Viking attitudes.
They were somewhere mountainous, France she thought, or maybe Italy, sometimes she had a hard time remembering where the city, she had in mind were placed. They had been to both countries last summer. France, she thought, that was the most likely place, as it had been one of the first days.
The small family was standing in line for a cable car when she was suddenly caught by a wave of panic. She did NOT want to enter one of the gondolas. Susan was not inordinately afraid of heights, nor did she normally shy away from these means of transportations, but in this case she was adamant.
She sat down on a low wall, declaring: "Fine! Mom and Dad, you can go up there with Linda if you like, but I'll stay here waiting for you."
"Don't you like cable cars?" Mum asked.
"I don't mind them," Susan said, "but I'm not going up there today."
"That cable system has been running for more than 100 years," Dad said in an impatient voice. "It's been recently inspected, as you can see from this poster. It will run for 100 more."
"Might be," Susan said evenly. "But not with me on board."
There was nothing doing. She had a case of the stubborns. In the end they all left the line and drove out of the small town heading for a bigger town and some lunch. As they left the village, the church bell stroke 12 noon, the bells sounding out a long and intricate carillon.
Nothing more was spoken of this incident during the trip. They climbed church towers, visited dungeons and even crossed a foaming river on a dancing bridge.
A day or two after their return home, Mum, who was sorting the mail having accumulated in their absence, came into the girls' room with a newspaper in her hand, white in the face.
"Susan," she said in a shaking voice. "That cable car you refused to get on, you remember?" Susan nodded. "It crashed. It is here in this old paper." She pointed to a small news article, no photos, only the simple news: "Tuesday the 25th of June at 12.15 the cable car to the summit in XXX (Susan did no longer recall the name of the city) met with an accident. One of the cables frayed and snapped, and all the gondolas fell to the ground. The number of dead and injured are yet to be determined, as victims were taken to different hospitals in the surrounding towns."
Shocked to her inner being she realized that only her magic had kept her and her family from being in that accident. She grasped pencil and notebook and began writing.
mandag den 24. maj 2021
Poetry Monday :: Favourite Breakfast
If you want to read some good poetry, Diane - who has taken over the hosting of this challenge - and Mimi of
Messymimi's Meanderings - who also supplies us with topics - are writing wonderful, funny,
thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and
read.
Karen of
Baking in a Tornado
has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month -
may we hope for more!
SpikesBestMate
often publishes a nice verse in the comments.
Jenny at
Procrastinating Donkey
who has been a faithful participant, is taking a break due to her husband's passing from
this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of
prayers her way.
I have something more to ask of you: If you read this and the
poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the
fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.
Illegal hobbit?
My favourite breakfast is
the second one
- - - - - - - - - -
Topics coming up:
Memorial Day (May 31)
Best Friends Day (from June 8) (June 7)
Monkey Around Day (June 14)
Fathers (June 21)
Bubbles (June 28)
onsdag den 19. maj 2021
Words for Wednesday - History of Magic
This May the Words for Wednesday are over at MessyMimi's Meanderings's blog. We were given:
biscuit
reign
selection
vigorous
treatment
seal
and/or one of more of the following obsolete words
beef-witted (slow-witted; having a heavy, ox-like intellect)
fudgel (to goof off while pretending to work)
groak (to silently stare at someone who is eating, in hopes of being invited to join in)
tittynope (a small quantity of something left over)
Remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please place a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.
Susan, Heidi, Lis and Tage is doing their homework on witchcraft through the ages. Sandra and Kai are in the room as well, listening and watching the four children studying and eating biscuits. Kai groaks and Susan and Heidi now and then pass him a biscuit.
"Listen to this," Lis said, "It was a hard time for witches: 'The persecution of witches, both male and female, gained momentum during the reign of Christian IV. He gave a decree - the witchcraft act of 1617 - that all witchcraft was forbidden'." Lis was reading aloud from the book on history of magic in Denmark and Norway.
"He was a stickler for unification, that one," Tage said. "I read a bit of this yesterday and looked him up in the big encyclopedia. He also had several Jesuit spies - as he called them - killed. In fact he had any and all not orthodox protestant expelled. Catholics, Anabaptists, pietists, ... get out. And he burned a lot of books not on his allowed lists."
"He's always made to be a hero and a great king in normal school," Susan said. "What with his building of nice castles, vigorous hunting games, and successful or at least righteous wars with Sweden. But his treatment of people not agreeing with him seems to have been harsh and rigorous."
"With his seal on that act he was the reason many good people died," Sandra said. "Before his time almost no witches were burned or beheaded, and as soon as he died, it went down to almost zero again. He was not a good king for us."
biscuit
reign
selection
vigorous
treatment
seal
and/or one of more of the following obsolete words
beef-witted (slow-witted; having a heavy, ox-like intellect)
fudgel (to goof off while pretending to work)
groak (to silently stare at someone who is eating, in hopes of being invited to join in)
tittynope (a small quantity of something left over)
Remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please place a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.
Susan, Heidi, Lis and Tage is doing their homework on witchcraft through the ages. Sandra and Kai are in the room as well, listening and watching the four children studying and eating biscuits. Kai groaks and Susan and Heidi now and then pass him a biscuit.
"Listen to this," Lis said, "It was a hard time for witches: 'The persecution of witches, both male and female, gained momentum during the reign of Christian IV. He gave a decree - the witchcraft act of 1617 - that all witchcraft was forbidden'." Lis was reading aloud from the book on history of magic in Denmark and Norway.
"He was a stickler for unification, that one," Tage said. "I read a bit of this yesterday and looked him up in the big encyclopedia. He also had several Jesuit spies - as he called them - killed. In fact he had any and all not orthodox protestant expelled. Catholics, Anabaptists, pietists, ... get out. And he burned a lot of books not on his allowed lists."
"He's always made to be a hero and a great king in normal school," Susan said. "What with his building of nice castles, vigorous hunting games, and successful or at least righteous wars with Sweden. But his treatment of people not agreeing with him seems to have been harsh and rigorous."
"With his seal on that act he was the reason many good people died," Sandra said. "Before his time almost no witches were burned or beheaded, and as soon as he died, it went down to almost zero again. He was not a good king for us."
tirsdag den 18. maj 2021
Barka - The Barge - Båden - JPII 101 år
Barka - ulubiona pieśń papieża Jana Pawła II
Pan kiedyś stanął nad brzegiem,
Szukał ludzi gotowych pójść za Nim;
By łowić serca - słów Bożych prawdą.
O Panie, to Ty na mnie spojrzałeś,
Twoje usta dziś wyrzekły me imię.
Swoją barkę pozostawiam na brzegu,
Razem z Tobą nowy zacznę dziś łów.
2. Jestem ubogim człowiekiem,
Moim skarbem są ręce gotowe
Do pracy z Tobą - I czyste serce.
3. Ty, potrzebujesz mych dłoni,
Mego serca młodego zapałem
Mych kropli potu I samotności.
4. Dziś wypłyniemy już razem
Łowić serca na morzach dusz ludzkich
Twej prawdy siecią I słowem życia.
1974 r. ks. Stanisław Szmidt.
Po śmierci Jana Pawła II Biskup Józef Zawitkowski dopisał kolejną zwrotkę "Barki":
5. O Panie, dalszy rejs odwołany
Bo Sternika do Siebie wezwałeś
A nam brak siły, nadzieja zgasła.
O Chryste, przecież burze szaleją
Ratuj Barkę, bo bez Ciebie zginiemy
"Nie lękajcie się, a wypłyńcie na głębię!"
Cała naprzód, nowy świta już dzień.
Båden (Barka) på dansk. Johannes Paul IIs yndlingssang
Jesus, da du stod der på stranden,
søgte mennesker, der vil følge med dig,
fiske hjerter med ordets sandhed.
|: O Herre, det er mig du betragter,
dine læber kalder stadigt mit navn.
Jeg forlader straks min båd her på stranden,
for fra nu af vil jeg fiske for dig. :|
Jeg er kun fattig og ringe.
Mine hænder er alt hvad jeg ejer.
De vil tjene i hjertets renhed.
O, Herre ...
Tag mine hænder og brug dem,
hjertets iver, min brændende ungdom,
svedens dråber og ensomheden.
O, Herre ...
Og i dag sejler vi sammen
fisker hjerter i menneskehavet.
Nettets masker er skabt af ordet.
O, Herre ...
Efter Johanes Paul IIs død skrev biskop Józef Zawitkowski dette vers til "Barka"
Gud, nu er sejlturen aflyst,
Vores Styrmand har Du taget til dig.
Kraften mangler, og håbet slukkes.
O Kristus, selvom stormene raser,
red du båden, uden dig går vi under.
"Frygt blot ikke! Læg nu ud på det dybe!"
Fuld kraft fremad, dagen gryer påny
Oversættelse Charlotte (Uglemor)
The Barge (Barka) in English. It was Pope John Paul II's favourite song
1.The Lord once stood on the shore
He sought people ready to follow Him
And become fishers of men through God’s words of truth.
Ref.: O Lord, this is You who have found me
From your lips I could hear my name.
And my boat I do leave on the shore now,
Since today I'll be fishing with you.
2. I live the life of the poor man
All I have is my hands so ready
To do work with you with all strength of my pure heart.
O, Lord ...
3. You need my hands for service
my young heart full of enthusiasm,
My sweat while working, my solitude.
O Lord ...
4. Today we’ll be off together
Fishing hearts in the sea of the souls
With the net of your truth and the word of real life.
O Lord ...
After the death of John Paul II the bishop of Łowicz, Józef Zawitkowski, added this verse to Barka:
O Lord, the voyage is cancelled
You have called our helmsman to you.
We lack strength, our hopes are extinguished.
O Christ, see the seas are raging
Save the barge because without You we're lost.
“Do not be afraid! Put out into the deep!”
Full speed ahead, day is dawning anew.
Translation from www.nuty.religijne.org, the last verse by MotherOwl. The original Spanish version was written in 1974 by Cesáreo Gabaráin.
Pan kiedyś stanął nad brzegiem,
Szukał ludzi gotowych pójść za Nim;
By łowić serca - słów Bożych prawdą.
O Panie, to Ty na mnie spojrzałeś,
Twoje usta dziś wyrzekły me imię.
Swoją barkę pozostawiam na brzegu,
Razem z Tobą nowy zacznę dziś łów.
2. Jestem ubogim człowiekiem,
Moim skarbem są ręce gotowe
Do pracy z Tobą - I czyste serce.
3. Ty, potrzebujesz mych dłoni,
Mego serca młodego zapałem
Mych kropli potu I samotności.
4. Dziś wypłyniemy już razem
Łowić serca na morzach dusz ludzkich
Twej prawdy siecią I słowem życia.
1974 r. ks. Stanisław Szmidt.
Po śmierci Jana Pawła II Biskup Józef Zawitkowski dopisał kolejną zwrotkę "Barki":
5. O Panie, dalszy rejs odwołany
Bo Sternika do Siebie wezwałeś
A nam brak siły, nadzieja zgasła.
O Chryste, przecież burze szaleją
Ratuj Barkę, bo bez Ciebie zginiemy
"Nie lękajcie się, a wypłyńcie na głębię!"
Cała naprzód, nowy świta już dzień.
Båden (Barka) på dansk. Johannes Paul IIs yndlingssang
Jesus, da du stod der på stranden,
søgte mennesker, der vil følge med dig,
fiske hjerter med ordets sandhed.
|: O Herre, det er mig du betragter,
dine læber kalder stadigt mit navn.
Jeg forlader straks min båd her på stranden,
for fra nu af vil jeg fiske for dig. :|
Jeg er kun fattig og ringe.
Mine hænder er alt hvad jeg ejer.
De vil tjene i hjertets renhed.
O, Herre ...
Tag mine hænder og brug dem,
hjertets iver, min brændende ungdom,
svedens dråber og ensomheden.
O, Herre ...
Og i dag sejler vi sammen
fisker hjerter i menneskehavet.
Nettets masker er skabt af ordet.
O, Herre ...
Efter Johanes Paul IIs død skrev biskop Józef Zawitkowski dette vers til "Barka"
Gud, nu er sejlturen aflyst,
Vores Styrmand har Du taget til dig.
Kraften mangler, og håbet slukkes.
O Kristus, selvom stormene raser,
red du båden, uden dig går vi under.
"Frygt blot ikke! Læg nu ud på det dybe!"
Fuld kraft fremad, dagen gryer påny
Oversættelse Charlotte (Uglemor)
The Barge (Barka) in English. It was Pope John Paul II's favourite song
1.The Lord once stood on the shore
He sought people ready to follow Him
And become fishers of men through God’s words of truth.
Ref.: O Lord, this is You who have found me
From your lips I could hear my name.
And my boat I do leave on the shore now,
Since today I'll be fishing with you.
2. I live the life of the poor man
All I have is my hands so ready
To do work with you with all strength of my pure heart.
O, Lord ...
3. You need my hands for service
my young heart full of enthusiasm,
My sweat while working, my solitude.
O Lord ...
4. Today we’ll be off together
Fishing hearts in the sea of the souls
With the net of your truth and the word of real life.
O Lord ...
After the death of John Paul II the bishop of Łowicz, Józef Zawitkowski, added this verse to Barka:
O Lord, the voyage is cancelled
You have called our helmsman to you.
We lack strength, our hopes are extinguished.
O Christ, see the seas are raging
Save the barge because without You we're lost.
“Do not be afraid! Put out into the deep!”
Full speed ahead, day is dawning anew.
Translation from www.nuty.religijne.org, the last verse by MotherOwl. The original Spanish version was written in 1974 by Cesáreo Gabaráin.
mandag den 17. maj 2021
Poetry Monday :: The anniversary of the patent of the rubber band
If you want to read some good poetry, Diane - who has taken over the hosting of this challenge - and Mimi of
Messymimi's Meanderings - who also supplies us with topics - are writing wonderful, funny,
thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and
read.
Karen of
Baking in a Tornado
has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month -
may we hope for more!
SpikesBestMate
often publishes a nice verse in the comments.
Jenny at
Procrastinating Donkey
who has been a faithful participant, is taking a break due to her husband's passing from
this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of
prayers her way.
I have something more to ask of you: If you read this and the
poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the
fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.
The Anniversary of the Patent of the Rubber Band?
is not today*
we celebrate it anyway:
Without these tiny, stretchy rings
we could not do a lot of things.
They hold together this and that,
from lunch packets to bank note wads.
Documents,
odds and ends,
braids in hair,
Socks in a pair,
buttons and hooks,
worn out books,
carrots and radishes,
chips and fishes,
But all these things are null and naught,
The thing that counts is the slingshot!
- - - - - - - - - - -
*The rubber band was patented in England on March 17, 1845 by Stephen Perry. (Wikipedia)
Topics coming up:
Favourite breakfast (May 24)
Memorial Day (May 31)
Best Friends Day (from June 8) (June 7)
Monkey Around Day (June 14)
Fathers (June 21)
Bubbles (June 28)
søndag den 16. maj 2021
Sunday Selections - Growing Edition
Velkommen til søndagens omgang blandede billeder fra ugen, der gik.
Allerførst et link til Life in Colour, hvor månedens farve er lilla, og ikke violet.
Allerførst et link til Life in Colour, hvor månedens farve er lilla, og ikke violet.
-- 🍆🌸 --
Welcome to this Sunday's post, with mixed pictures from the past week. The first one is a link to l Life in Colour, where the colour of the month is purple, not violet.
Og så en underlig, J-formet radise.
-- 𝕵 --
And a radish in letter shape.
Jeg cyklede gennem skoven tirsdag formiddag, bøgen sprang ud, og knopskællene faldt af og dryssede ned, så det lød som om det regnede, når de ramte min cykelhjelm.
I went through the woods on my bike. The beech buds were bursting and the leaves unfolding, making all the bud scales fall against my helmet like rain.
Og vi så det trodsige træ i Hillerød igen. Nu er det sprunget ud.
Jeg cyklede gennem skoven tirsdag formiddag, bøgen sprang ud, og knopskællene faldt af og dryssede ned, så det lød som om det regnede, når de ramte min cykelhjelm.
-- 🍃 --
I went through the woods on my bike. The beech buds were bursting and the leaves unfolding, making all the bud scales fall against my helmet like rain.
Og vi så det trodsige træ i Hillerød igen. Nu er det sprunget ud.
-- 🌳 --
onsdag den 12. maj 2021
Words for Wednesday -- May 11
This May the Words for Wednesday are over at MessyMimi's Meanderings's blog. We were given:
experiment
worker
final
mosquito
salesperson
address
and/or one or both of these phrases:
there’s no I in team
in a pickle
Remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please place a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.
Also on Messymimi's blog is a list, in fact several, of things big and small happening, celebrated, commemorated or not on today's date. She has a short notice today: Limerick Day -- birth anniversary of Edward Lear. This inspired me to try my hand at limericking.
There was a young lady from Mickle
Who often was sat in a pickle:
"Mosquitoes come by
They bite me and fly
And leaves me an itch and a tickle."
experiment
worker
final
mosquito
salesperson
address
and/or one or both of these phrases:
there’s no I in team
in a pickle
Remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please place a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.
Also on Messymimi's blog is a list, in fact several, of things big and small happening, celebrated, commemorated or not on today's date. She has a short notice today: Limerick Day -- birth anniversary of Edward Lear. This inspired me to try my hand at limericking.
There was a young lady from Mickle
Who often was sat in a pickle:
"Mosquitoes come by
They bite me and fly
And leaves me an itch and a tickle."
tirsdag den 11. maj 2021
May TUSAL
Everything is green outside now. I't wonderful, and yesterday the temperatures were finally over 10 Celsius! What is TUSAL: It is an acronym for Totally Useless Stitch-A-Long. See my explanation HERE and follow the link to Daffycats blog for more.
Here are my May ORTs outside the ORTs bowl.
and inside the ORTs bowl
mandag den 10. maj 2021
Potry Monday :: Lost Sock Memorial Day
If you want to read some good poetry, Diane - who has taken over the hosting of this challenge - and Mimi of
Messymimi's Meanderings - who also supplies us with topics - are writing wonderful, funny,
thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and
read.
Karen of Baking in a Tornado has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month - may we hope for more!
SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments.
Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey who has been a faithful participant, is taking a break due to her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way.
I have something more to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.
The lonely socks' bin is growing,
Newcomers every week.
I wonder and I scratch my head
whene'er I take a peak
Why is it that the loney sock
from today's wash
never match the ones inside?
- - - - -
Topics coming up:
The anniversary of the patent of the rubber band. (May 17)
Favourite breakfast (May 24)
Memorial Day (May 31)
Best Friends Day (from June 8) (June 7)
Monkey Around Day (June 14)
Fathers (June 21)
Bubbles (June 28)
Karen of Baking in a Tornado has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month - may we hope for more!
SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments.
Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey who has been a faithful participant, is taking a break due to her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way.
I have something more to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.
The lonely socks' bin is growing,
Newcomers every week.
I wonder and I scratch my head
whene'er I take a peak
Why is it that the loney sock
from today's wash
never match the ones inside?
- - - - -
Topics coming up:
The anniversary of the patent of the rubber band. (May 17)
Favourite breakfast (May 24)
Memorial Day (May 31)
Best Friends Day (from June 8) (June 7)
Monkey Around Day (June 14)
Fathers (June 21)
Bubbles (June 28)
fredag den 7. maj 2021
Words for Wednesday - May 5, Finally
This Wednesday - as all of May - the Words are over at MessyMimi's Meanderings's blog. We were given:
parallel
fox
bell
pace
funeral
negotiation
and/or
soap
rare
consolidate
say
road
injection
Remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please place a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.
I don't know why writing this small piece of Unicorn Farm took me so long. I suffered form some kind of word drought after the A-Z Challenge, I suspect, and hope that this have broken the dam.
The bike path was winding along, roughly parallel to the road. The twins were ahead with Susan and Heidi tagging along. They were watching a fox twitching its ears in the early morning fog when they heard the bell calling from the Unicorn Farm.
"Oh, we're late!" Lis called. "At this pace we won't arrive until Gilvi has already spoken the magic formula, and then we get to wrangle all those languages all day. We're not guest at a funeral, but witches to be. Please hurry up!"
They hurried on to the Unicorn Farm, washed their hands at the pump and trough, using Martine's mood soap that changed colour and smell to suit the needs of the user. It turned black, as Heidi used it, with a soothing smell of lily-of-the-valleys. "Oh granny soap," Heidi said. "It's a rare occurrence that I get a smell I really like."
They arrived in the stable just in time to seen Gilvi put away his wand. "Hi you four. You're late again. But as you already know this carries its own punishment."
Susan looked at Gilvi: "I hope to learn that language spell very soon. I am comfortable with Swedish and Norwegian. Icelandic is still quite hard for us, while Finnish is another cup of tea altogether."
"You will learn it, Susan, as will all of you," he said smiling. "But not today, so you all got to fumble on as best you can."
Susan, Heidi, Lis, and Tage did not look forward to a day where they had to try and understand the other apprentices in their own languages, and even worse, make them understand Danish. It was super tiring. And the first lesson for Susan was Crypto-zoology with Thora. A subject, she really loved, but she would not benefit greatly from Thora's wise words when spoken in Icelandic. Oh well, she thought, she just had to listen closely.
parallel
fox
bell
pace
funeral
negotiation
and/or
soap
rare
consolidate
say
road
injection
Remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please place a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.
I don't know why writing this small piece of Unicorn Farm took me so long. I suffered form some kind of word drought after the A-Z Challenge, I suspect, and hope that this have broken the dam.
The bike path was winding along, roughly parallel to the road. The twins were ahead with Susan and Heidi tagging along. They were watching a fox twitching its ears in the early morning fog when they heard the bell calling from the Unicorn Farm.
"Oh, we're late!" Lis called. "At this pace we won't arrive until Gilvi has already spoken the magic formula, and then we get to wrangle all those languages all day. We're not guest at a funeral, but witches to be. Please hurry up!"
They hurried on to the Unicorn Farm, washed their hands at the pump and trough, using Martine's mood soap that changed colour and smell to suit the needs of the user. It turned black, as Heidi used it, with a soothing smell of lily-of-the-valleys. "Oh granny soap," Heidi said. "It's a rare occurrence that I get a smell I really like."
They arrived in the stable just in time to seen Gilvi put away his wand. "Hi you four. You're late again. But as you already know this carries its own punishment."
Susan looked at Gilvi: "I hope to learn that language spell very soon. I am comfortable with Swedish and Norwegian. Icelandic is still quite hard for us, while Finnish is another cup of tea altogether."
"You will learn it, Susan, as will all of you," he said smiling. "But not today, so you all got to fumble on as best you can."
Susan, Heidi, Lis, and Tage did not look forward to a day where they had to try and understand the other apprentices in their own languages, and even worse, make them understand Danish. It was super tiring. And the first lesson for Susan was Crypto-zoology with Thora. A subject, she really loved, but she would not benefit greatly from Thora's wise words when spoken in Icelandic. Oh well, she thought, she just had to listen closely.
mandag den 3. maj 2021
Poetry Monday :: The Best Thing About Spring
If you want to read some good poetry, Diane and Mimi of
Messymimi's Meanderings write wonderful, funny,
thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and
read.
Karen of Baking in a Tornado has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month - may we hope for more!
SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments, and helps out at topic supplying.
Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey who has been a faithful participant, is taking a break due to her husband's recent passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way.
I have something more to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.
Spring is so chaotic that a free form verse is needed to capture it.
To tell of the best things of spring
I need a zillion ears, fingers, eyes
Its popping up everywhere.
There flowers, here birds, there a tree.
The air smells so wonderful fresh.
After the early morning rain.
The swallows arrive once again.
The gooseberry flowers that smell
Are visited by bumble bees.
And catkins adorn all the trees.
The ground elder covers the earth.
The brooklets are laughing with glee.
The Quince unfolding their leaves
And flowers in glowing bright red.
The weeds are so busy.
The bushes so bushy
The Spring is amazingly new.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Topics coming up:
Lost Sock Memorial Day. (May 10)
The anniversary of the patent of the rubber band. (May 17)
Favourite breakfast (May 24)
Memorial Day (May 31)
Best Friends Day (from June 8) (June 7)
Monkey Around Day (June 14)
Fathers (June 21)
Bubbles (June 28)
Karen of Baking in a Tornado has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month - may we hope for more!
SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments, and helps out at topic supplying.
Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey who has been a faithful participant, is taking a break due to her husband's recent passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way.
I have something more to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.
Spring is so chaotic that a free form verse is needed to capture it.
To tell of the best things of spring
I need a zillion ears, fingers, eyes
Its popping up everywhere.
There flowers, here birds, there a tree.
The air smells so wonderful fresh.
After the early morning rain.
The swallows arrive once again.
The gooseberry flowers that smell
Are visited by bumble bees.
And catkins adorn all the trees.
The ground elder covers the earth.
The brooklets are laughing with glee.
The Quince unfolding their leaves
And flowers in glowing bright red.
The weeds are so busy.
The bushes so bushy
The Spring is amazingly new.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Topics coming up:
Lost Sock Memorial Day. (May 10)
The anniversary of the patent of the rubber band. (May 17)
Favourite breakfast (May 24)
Memorial Day (May 31)
Best Friends Day (from June 8) (June 7)
Monkey Around Day (June 14)
Fathers (June 21)
Bubbles (June 28)
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