Colour of the Month :: December

And we're ending the year on a cheerful note - at least in my opinion. I love blue, and this Light Blue is like the sky on a clear, frosty day.

Sikke da en optimistisk farve for årets sidste måned. Jeg elsker blå, og denne lyseblå er som himlen en frostklar decemberdag.

Bragging on Thanksgiving

First of all Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate.

-  A  -  B  -  C  -

As I told some time ago, I love word games and puzzles like Wordle and such. For the first time today I solved the New York Times Connections puzzle, So I share the results from today's mini-games. Wørdle is the Danish Wordle look-alike.

Wordle 1.258   5/6
⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜
⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜
⬜🟨🟨🟨⬜
⬜⬜🟩🟩🟩
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩

Wørdle #1055 5/6
⬛🟩⬛⬛⬛
⬛🟩⬛⬛🟦
⬛🟩⬛🟩🟩
⬛🟩⬛🟩🟩
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩

Connections Puzzle #536
🟨🟨🟨🟨
🟩🟩🟩🟩
🟦🟦🟦🟦
🟪🟪🟪🟪

Strands #270 “Thank goodness!”
🔵🔵🔵🔵
🔵💡🔵🟡

Tiles - November 28, 2024
     Perfect!
Your highest combo was 41 moves.

Spelling Bee - November 28, 2024 *

	Genius		148
	Amazing		106
	Great		84
	Nice		53

43

Solid. . .

32

10 points to next rank, 105 to Genius

	Good		17
	Moving Up		11
	Good Start		4

* Note for Spelling Bee, Solid is generally the highest you can go without subscribing. If you're smart, lucky, and the Bee contains fewer words, Nice is possible.

The Words for Wednesday ~ Just the Words

My brain has gone quite empty. I hope to make some writing happen later on.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

The Word for Wednesday challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words are provided by a number of people.
The prompts for November are provided by Alex J. Cavanaugh and can be found @ Elephant's Child.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 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.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

The Words for Wednesday are:
Staple 
Symbolic
Relic
Ebony
Flames
    and/or
Moon
General
Drums
Presto
Thrilled

Poetry Monday :: Cry Wolf

Den danske udgave blev udgivet otte minutter tidligere end denne, så gå til forrige indlæg nedenunder, hvis du vil have den.

To cry wolf is almost the same in Danish, we cry: The wolf is coming!
But the English one is once again subject for misinterpretations, we only need a comma: Cry, Wolf!

Cry, wolf! Tonight the moon is full.
You'll be hunted by werewolves
and werebears and -boars.

  And then I was reminded of  Vargsången (The Wolf Song) written by Astrid Lindgren for the movie vesion of  Ronia, the Robber's Daughter. It is a lullaby, sung by Ronia's mother - I always thought it was a bit violent for a lullaby, but then they are a band of robbers.
  I never saw the movie, but I have read the book more than once, and heard the song in the radio several times. I have not been able to find an English version, so I tried rendering it into English with it still being able to be sung on its original, haunting tune. You will be the judges as to whether I succeeded. 

The wolf is howling in nightly woods,
he wants to but can't be sleeping.
Hunger tears in his wolven paunch,
and cold it is in his keeping.
    Cry, wolf! cry, wolf, don't you come here,
    I'll never give you my young one.

The wolf is howling in nightly woods,
howls with hunger and anguish.
But I'll give him a piggie's tail,
It's fit for a wolfy stomach.
    Cry, wolf! cry, wolf, don't you come here,
    I'll never give you my young one.

The wolf is howling in nightly woods,
and finds no prey in his hunting.
But I'll give him a cock's comb
To put in his sorry bundle.
    Cry, wolf! cry, wolf, don't you come here,
    I'll never give you my young one.

Sleep, my child, in your mother's bed,
The wolf is howling, just let him.
But I'll give him a chicken shank,
That is if it has not been taken.
    Cry, wolf! cry, wolf, don't you come here,
    I'll never give you my young one.


Vargsången
Vargen ylar i nattens skog,
han vill men kan inte sova.
Hungern river hans vargabuk,
och det är kallt i hans stova.
    Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit,
    ungen min får du aldrig.

Vargen ylar i nattens skog,
ylar av hunger och klagan.
Men jag ska ge'n en grisasvans,
sånt passar i vargamagar.
    Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit,
    ungen min får du aldrig.

Vargen ylar i nattens skog,
och hittar sig inget byte.
Men jag ska ge'n en tuppakam,
att stoppa ner i sitt knyte.
    Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit,
    ungen min får du aldrig.

Sov, mitt barn, i bädden hos mor,
låt vargen yla i natten.
Men jag ska ge'n en hönsaskank,
om ingen annan har tatt 'en.
    Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit,
    ungen min får du aldrig.
Astrid Lindgren

Youtube video of Vargsången  the title says Astrid's Lullabies.

 - - - - - -

Topics for December:

Dec. 2 Beans
Dec. 9 A Bumpy Ride
Dec. 16 Recipe for Disaster
Dec. 23 Never Say Never and/or Christmas/Hanukkah
Dec. 30 All Done

Ulvesangen ~ Poetry Monday på dansk

If you only read English, please wait a bit, the English version will publish soon.

Om kort tid kommer dagens Poetry Monday, som er en engelsk gendigtning af Vargsången fra Ronja Røverdatter. Jeg troede jeg havde udgivet min oversættelse af Astrid Lindgrens vuggevise her på bloggen, men lige megt, hvor meget jeg leder, er den her ikke. Så for ikke at gøre Poetry Monday-opslaget alt for langt, kommer den danske udgave her lige inden.
     Det har altid undret mig at Ulvesangen blev kaldt en vuggevise, men måske er forklaringen den enkle, at det er en vuggevise for røvere, og røvere skal hærdes fra små.
     Vi får den først på svensk og så på dansk.

Vargsången
Vargen ylar i nattens skog,
han vill men kan inte sova.
Hungern river hans vargabuk,
och det är kallt i hans stova.
    Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit,
    ungen min får du aldrig.

Vargen ylar i nattens skog,
ylar av hunger och klagan.
Men jag ska ge'n en grisasvans,
sånt passar i vargamagar.
    Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit,
    ungen min får du aldrig.

Vargen ylar i nattens skog,
och hittar sig inget byte.
Men jag ska ge'n en tuppakam,
att stoppa ner i sitt knyte.
    Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit,
    ungen min får du aldrig.

Sov, mitt barn, i bädden hos mor,
låt vargen yla i natten.
Men jag ska ge'n en hönsaskank,
om ingen annan har tatt 'en.
    Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit,
    ungen min får du aldrig.
Vargsången skrevs av Astrid Lindgren till filmen Ronja Rövardotter som kom 1984


Ulvesangen
Ulven hyler i natmørk skov
Han vil, men kan ikke sove
Sulten river i ulvetarm,
det er koldt nattens skove.
  Du ulv, du ulv kom ikke her
  Ungen min får du aldrig

Ulven hyler i natmørk skov
Hyler så sulten og mager
men jeg vil gi ham en grisetå
det passer i ulvemaver.
  Du ulv, du ulv kom ikke her
  Ungen min får du aldrig

Ulven hyler i natmørk skov
han finder intet bytte.
Men jeg vil gi ham en hanekam
at æde i sin hytte.
  Du ulv, du ulv kom ikke her
  Ungen min får du aldrig

Sov mit barn i moders seng
Lad ulven hyle i natten
Men jeg vil gi han et hønseskank,
hvis ingen anden vil ha' den.
  Du ulv, du ulv kom blot ikke her
  Ungen min får du aldrig

Fires at Unicorn Farm ~ Part 3

Encouraged by Elephant's Child I sat myself down and wrote the last of the story. I am a stickler for happy endings, and this shows here.
And as I used my colour Opal Pearl Green throughout this story I'll make it count for Colour24 as well

The magicians and apprentices sat around the table in the barn, all singed, smelling of smoke and damp clothing, but all very happy. The reason for the fires had not been a pyromaniac wizard or witch after all, Taavi told a long-winded story of one pyromaniac who ended up as a very good person, but nobody really listened.
Suddenly Tage raised his head and blurted out: "How did Kalle end up here!" He looked at Taavi, who gave him a stink eye. "Oh, sorry Taavi, I did not mean to interrupt," he added, I was just thinking ..."
"Or not," Taavi said. "Excuse accepted. And you pose a relevant question. Let's ask Kalle once again, what happened?"
"Yes ..." Kalle began. "I was asleep, as well I should be, at home in my own bed in Stockholm. Then I remember dreaming of a giant, shimmering opal green crocolisk eating up someone I did not recognize, wrapped up like a giant spring roll or something. I was afraid. I wondered what to do. Then I felt an almighty pulling sensation ... and I awoke in the middle of the corridor, my PJs on fire and Gilvi dousing me with water."
"You were afraid, and wondered what to do with a giant crocolisk!" Jon said slowly "... I think I know what happened." He looked at all the other magicians and apprentices at the table. "Now think. If you saw a humongous, shimmering green crocolisk - and a man-eating one even, what would you do?"
"Run," Tage said.
"Get mum and dad!" Heidi suggested.
"I'd go to ..." Susan began, then gasped, "... to the library!" she ended softly.
"Exactly!" Jon exclaimed, his white teeth showing in a big smile. "And that's what Kalle did. He sleep'ported here! Well done young man. You will probably have no trouble passing the teleportation test this term."
Kalle smiled a huge smile. "Oh I've been so afraid of flunking that test. All my cousins except for Britta who's the youngest, passed the test last term, and they have been teasing Anna and me relentlessly ever since."
"But I'll have to cast a spell on you to prevent repetitions. Just imagine you trying to slep'port to some imaginary place."
Kalle turned white and whispered: "Oh yes, please do. Even some real life places would not be that nice."

Fires at Unicorn Farm ~ Part 2

On my way home from an errand, I suddenly knew - remembered - how this all ended. Here you are: Part two of the story of the fires at Unicorn Farm.

Gilvi left again and the others sat for long in the barn. The Nisser brought them cakes and hot tea and cocoa, only succeeding in making them all very sleepy. Kalle fell asleep, wrapped in a blanket, and the others dozed fitfully on the benches. They all dreamt vividly. Susan and Heidi woke up and looked at one another.
"The sprites?" Heidi asked.
"Yes," Susan replied, and with this they were off to the adjoining stables.
Kai woke with a start: "Hey Heidi .. and Susan! Stay here, Gilvi said ..." But before he could draw his wand or do anything else to prevent it the two girls had slipped into the stable.
Heidi almost fell up the three steps to the stables, where strange animals and food for all and sundry were being kept. They raced to where they had placed the big glass cage a few days earlier.
The roomy and beautiful glass cage was where they'd left it, but empty, except for a small fire flickering in a dull grey ring in the middle of the cage. The asbestos lattice covering it sat askew.
"They escaped!" Susan exclaimed.
"They sure did," Heidi replied. "Let's go find the twins, quick!"
With this Susan and Heidi ran each in a separate direction, Heidi ran into the Barn, waking up the others, and quickly explained what they had found out before speeding on. Susan took the small staircase leading from the stables to the library. There she met and almost ran into Martine: "It's the flame sprites doing it," she gasped, winded from running up the stairs. "Where's the Kuusisaari's?" "Tähti is in the library," Martine replied, "I think Taavi is downstairs. I'll get him!"
"Please do!" Susan said and ran towards the doors to the library. Smoke was still coming form in there.
"Hello," Tähti gasped through the smoke, "you're not supposed to be here, but please lend me a hand now that you are ... Slökkvid!" she cried as another small fire lit on the carpet.
"It's the fire sprites!" Susan said, "They have escaped." And interrupted by a few extinguishing spells, she quickly told Tähti what they has discovered. "Martine and Heidi are out there looking for Taavi as well."
"I'll find him." Tähti said, "you just stay here and extinguish any and all fires. You're free to use the mundane fire extinguisher on flames not in books - use your head!" And with this she flickered her wand and disappeared.
Sure that now Tähti, Taavi and the other teachers now would take care of the sprites, Susan sat to the task of keeping the books from burning. She soon realized that her magical powers would give out, and grasped the fire extinguisher from the hall. armed with this in her left hand and her wand in her right she kept the flames at bay. She felt more than saw Tue and Heidi coming in to help. Gratefully she concentrated on carpets, curtains and furniture with the extinguisher, leaving the magic to the older two.
Suddenly a keening sound penetrated the building, shaking it and them to their roots. "The Kuusisaari's are calling the Sprites home," Heidi said. "Thank God, I'm exhausted!"
They put out the last of the flames and almost fell into the old sofa. Soon Gilvi's face showed in the doorway: "Good job, all!" he said. "Down to the Barn now, time for a meal and an explanation or two."

... to be continued

Words for Wednesday :: November 20 ~ on a Friday

Yes it's still Friday here. I have finally written something. I'm not happy with it, as it went somewhere unexpected and dark, I do not think this will enter my book. And it is yet another beginning. Will we ever see an ending to this and all the other strange beginnings from the last couple of months? Only time will tell.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

The Word for Wednesday challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words are provided by a number of people.
The prompts for November are provided by Alex J. Cavanaugh and can be found @ Elephant's Child.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 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.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

The Words for Wednesday were:

Pyromaniac
Midnight
Parrot
Frozen
Razor's edge
     and/or
Anguish
Alligator
Taco
Predictable
Staple

Prehistory: Someone had been starting fires at Unicorn Farm, a Pyromaniac is suspected of the deed. One night as Heidi, Lis and Tage and their parents, Sandra and Kai, are following Susan to her aunt's summerhouse, Thora appeared and asked them to please come and stand guard at the Farm.  

Susan had never been out past midnight at the Farm before, but a pyromaniac witch, or maybe wizard, warranted this. All grown ups and teachers were guarding all entryways to the Farm. Tue and Lis were in the adjoining classrooms, sitting in cupboards with small peepholes cut into them. She and Heidi were in the library and had hid themselves behind the parrot's cage, hoping that the blanket thrown over to shut him up would also hide them well enough. She held her wand ready in a nearly frozen hand, and se could feel Heidi shivering from the cold next to her. Then suddenly an orange glow, thin as a razor's edge shone from where Susan was certain the door to the corridor was placed. She carefully poked Heidi, who poked her back. Then everything happened very fast. A scream of anguish pierced the night, the door swung open, letting smoke and flames start to spill into the library nearing the book case next to the door. Susan and Heidi jumped up, pointed at flame after flame with their wands, screaming "Slökkvið" at them, and slowly the inferno died down. They could see Tue, Lis and Knud over the flames, and behind them Thora, Kai, Gilvi, Sandra, Martine and most every teacher from the Farm. A human form lay at the floor, PJs scorched and soaked. Thora helped a wet and bedraggled Kalle from the floor: "What happened?" she asked. "You were supposed to be in your bed in Stockholm."
"I was." Kalle said simply, looking utterly confused.
Thora asked him: "And what then?"
Kalle looked up: "I slept, I dreamt of a big, pearl opal green alligator eating someone, just as we would a taco, then I felt an almighty pull, everything went dark, and I was suddenly here, my PJs on fire."
"This sounds nothing like what we imagined," Martine said. "It is not a predictable way ..."
Sandra looked at them: "Move!" she screamed, Everybody sprang into the library, into abandoned cupboards and door openings. Gilvi grabbed Kalle and half pulled half carried him to the sick room.
A fireball exploded exactly where Kalle had lain.
"This is a staple of the ... " Taavi began.
"Not now!" Tähti interrupted him. "Let's get the fires put out, and bring some order to this chaos. Kai please bring the children down into the Barn."
Not listening to their protests, Kai ordered Lis, Tage, Heidi and Susan to proceed him to the barn, and Gilvi brought up the rear, carrying Kalle.

Poetry Monday :: Jumping the Gun

And oops sorry everybody. I goofed up and spent a long time writing a poem or two with next week's prompt: Cry wolf. Luckily I realised this the second before hitting "Publish", but for this reason only a not so elaborate poem this time around.

Jumping the gun,
It sure can be fun
But if you're found out
You're in for some pout,
From people who find you're a lout.

Jumping the gun
should not be done
Play fair and be nice
Don't load your dice
Don't hide the game piece.

Juming the gun
Is not worth the tonne
Of ill will and nay
that's coming your way
if you do foul play.

Hmm, this turned out rather moralistic. I cannot do any better today, but I hope to get more done in the week ahead.

 - - - - - -

Next week, as already announced: Cry Wolf.
Promts for December coming up soon.

Words for Wednesday November 13

The Word for Wednesday challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words are provided by a number of people.
The prompts for November are provided by Alex J. Cavanaugh and can be found @ Elephant's Child.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 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.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

The Words for yesterday were:
Snow
Cow
Jade
Candy
Sunglasses
    and/or
Oak
Refreshed
Ornery
Music
Shells

I needed writing, so THANKS! to Alex J. Cavanaugh for the words and to Elephant's Child for posting them.
A small story from Susan's mundane life early winter of the first year on the Farm. These 'telling the time-notes' are as much for my own sake as for you ... I expect maybe even more for my sake. It explains why Susan is not thinking of Snow Magic, and a heap of other things to me.
Remember that Susan's mundane life is roughly autobiographical, so what I here described existed - maybe still do - and I'll have to dig up that story of why. Maybe for next Wednesday?
PS. according to my spell checker Ornery is not a word ;)

Snow was falling, and Susan happily looked into the leaden skies. As soon as the bus arrived, she jumped aboard, happy to get away from the sports hall. She hated sports, running gave her a headache, and all those balls ... Shortly they passed a field with cows, funny that they were still out, maybe the snow had caught the farmer as unaware as herself. All the cows stood close together, with their tails into the wind near the gate. Where did they live, Susan wondered, as every time she went past that field, and why really were there cows here in the suburbs of the town? Houses on either side of the road, going in to town, then to the right suddenly a small clump of trees and a pasture with cows, then a road, and houses again. Mom, or was it Grandma, had told a story some time ago, but Susan did not remember.
She searched inside her school-bag, now where was that bag? That was the only good thing about the sports hall. It had a well assorted kiosk. Today Susan had bought a jade coloured bag of candy. She put a couple in her mouth and savoured the sweet taste. Too soon the ride through winter-wondeland in the heated bus came to an end, and Susan got off. Snow was nice, but cold was not when you were not dressed for it; this very morning her mother had looked for her sunglasses before going off to work, and Susan had decided against the warm coat. She regretted this decision now. She fastened her pace to keep warm, turned left at the big oak tree at the corner and half ran the last long stretch home. She pulled off the thin coat, shook it out and hung it in the back of the wardrobe. Bye, she thought, I won't be needing you before spring. Then she threw shoes, socks, school-bag and hat in a heap, only keeping the candy bag. In the fridge she grabbed a carton of milk, and then a glass and a book. She disappeared into her room, and returned after the milk and candy had all gone and the book had been finished. Thus refreshed she was ready to meet her ornery sister, who as usual played loud music inside her room. Walking on egg shells was sometimes needed when she had one of her moods.

Look, Oh Look! ~ Åh se!

Sunshine!  ~ Solskin!

Yup, this morning we had awesome 46 minutes of sunshine - the first this month.

I morges havde vi 46 vidunderlige minutters solskin - månedens første.

Kilde: DMI

Poetry Monday :: Wild Goose Chase

Every Monday is Poetry Monday. 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 reasons.

  I have something to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others via the links, would you please leave a comment.
  Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.

Today's prompt is Wild Goose Chase.

Last Monday I had some fun trying to misinterpret the saying - or rather by understanding its literal meaning. I did the same today for

Wild Goose Chase.
Now is the season for chasing wild geese
Their wedges are honking away on the breeze.
Oh, that's not what is meant?

But still it's the season for chasing wild geese
The sunshine has left us, the season is bleak
Oh, I'd like to fly too!

Now is the season for chasing wild geese
For dreaming while waiting for Spring and release
The winter endure!

-- 🧊 --

And now for some fun. One of my sons shared this animated song with me, I share it with you. 

The Words for Wednesday (no story) & IWSG November 6

The Word for Wednesday challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words are provided by a number of people.
The prompts for November are provided by Alex J. Cavanaugh and can be found @ Elephant's Child.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 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.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

The Words for today are:
Parachute
Reindeer
Shark
Clay
Ruins
     and/Or
 Telescope
Totem Pole
Black
Severed
Surf

And I still have the following unused Words from last Wednesday

Cave
Mary
Near
Rapid
White

I have had neither time nor energy for writing more story, and I even have lots of dangling ends and loose tails and tales to choose from. I pray and hope that after this coming weekend the chaos surrounding us will slow down and slowly fall into something resembling order and plans. I hope!

- - A - - B - - C - - 

Today is also the first Wednesday of the month. Time for the monthly Question from the Insecure Writers' Support Group

November 6 question - What creative activity do you engage in when you're not writing?

My answer: "What creative activity do I not engage in while not writing" would be an easier question for me to answer.

I have never done, and do not plan to ever do bobbin lace or tatting.

Apart from these two ... I think I have tried my hand at most any creative endeavour under the sun. I find creating fun, I get ideas all the time. I just lack time and energy to do what I would like. This might - as said in the WfW part -  be improving in the weeks to come.

Ensretning af holdninger ~ Unification of Thoughts

Uglemor plejer ikke at være politisk her på bloggen, eller noget med den slags holdninger i det hele taget, men en i øvrigt informativ artikel på TV2 gjorde mig opmærksom på  i hvor høj grad mainstream og den offentlige mening har monopol på taleretten i Danmark.
     Hvis du ikke har lyst til at læse sur Uglegylp, så spring det over.

-- 👶 --

MotherOwl is usually not into politics, or anything of that kind on this blog, but an otherwise informative article on TV2.dk made me realise to what extent the mainstream in public opinion still (or again) sets the agenda in Denmark.

If you do not want to read sour OwlPellets, read no further.

For English scroll down.

Se lige her:

Det fortsætter:

I Danmark er det jo nærmest ikke en debat.
Nej præcis - og derfor fatter danskere ikke, at der er nogen - mange måske endda - helt normale amerikanere, der stemmer på Trump ene og alene fordi han er imod abort.

     Faktisk chokerer hans udsagn mig mere, end jeg lige vil være ved.
     Vi er en hel del danskere, der deler den opfattelse, at abort er mord (vi synes ikke nødvendigvis, at Trump er vidunderlig, eller er enige om en masse andre ting), men ud fra dette har jeg indset, hvor ensrettet den danske politiske og moralske scene er.
     Der er én rigtig mening, der er nok grader, nuancer, undtagelser ... men sagen har én løsning - og hvis du ikke er enig, er du en ikke-person.
     Det kan godt være, der er 11 partier i folketinget, men virkelige uenigheder er der ikke mange af. Det er mere hvordan, vi når målet, de diskuterer, ikke målet i sig selv.
     I virkeligheden er Danmark lige så absolutistisk som mange af de lande, der lå bag jerntæppet i gamle dage.

-- ⧞ ---

In English
The first photo.
Caption: A sensational opinion!

Text summed up: Simon Flening, the journalist in the photo, has been travelling UAS on a bike to try and understand the American population prior to the election.
He met a priest who said something Flening never heard before from a live person: When a baby is conceived, it is a human being.
And Flening then adds: He actually saw abortion as murder!

Second block of text: I realise that we're very different in Denmark, We do not think of this as a matter up for discussion.

--- --- ---

This is one of the reasons Danes are shocked that normal, sane people (like a lot of the persons behind blogs I'm reading) can ever imagine voting for Trump just because he's against abortion. 

And this reality of his shocks me. We are actually quite a number of Danes sharing the opinion that abortion is murder (We do not necessarily think that Trump is the man, nor agree on a lot of other things).

But this made me realise just how very homogenous the Danish political and moral scene is. There's one right opinion, there's degrees, shades, exceptions - but the matter at hand has one solution - and if you do not agree, you're a non-person, not asked in polls, not interviewed in the papers, not represented and not seen.

Our big fights only happen when the public opinion cannot agree as to what is the political or moral high ground.

We have a lot of parties for every election here - there's 11 parties in the Danish parliament - but the opinions are not as divided. Almost all agree on most questions, the discrepancies are more in the means to the goals, in just where is the limit and such.

In reality Denmark is as absolutistic as many of the countries behind the Iron Curtain of old.

Eco-Printing ~ PlantePrint

Her er så de færdige ark fra PlantePrint~2

PlantePrint med alun 5. ark endte med at se sådan her ud:

Planteprint med AA 5 & 6 - altså det første forsøg med AA ser sådan her ud:

Og der måtte et nyt forsøg til, med de blade, der faktisk giver gode tryk. Jeg har glemt tørstetræ

-- 🍂 --

I had to test all the good leaves in one go, but forgot frangula leaves.

AA 3&4
With leaves still in place
Med bladene.

Og færdig, men stadig vådt
Done, but still wet.

.

Poetry Monday :: Beating Around the Bush

Every Monday is Poetry Monday. 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 reasons.

  I have something to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others via the links, would you please leave a comment.
  Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.

Today's prompt is Beating around the Bush

As I wrote, I have been procrastinating, and ended up doing what I should not do - read other blogs before finishing my poem. This time was an exception inasmuch as it actually helped me finish my poem.
This is a limping verse.

Beating around the bush.
What a strange saying, that.
Who's beating what
and why around a bush?

And why beating? Why not push.
Who is beating, who gets hit?
I do not get it, not a bit.
And please no beating, no, not a bush

Now I have been to Mimi's blog
and meaning I have gotten,
to whom ad why and where to beat.
Yes Mimi spoil us rotten.

If you also do not now the reason behind Beating around the Bush, then go and read Mimi's excellent explanation here.

 - - - - - - - - - -

Prompts for November:
Beating Around the Bush, November 4 (Today)
Wild Goose Chase, November 11
Jumping the Gun, November 18
Cry Wolf, November 25


The promised photos of Eco-printed papers have been snapped, and will go live tomorrow.

Overspringshandlinger ~Words for Wednesday and More.

In Danish we have a wonderful word "Overspringshandling". The dictionary gives me 'procrastination', but I do not think it is a perfect fit for Overspringshandling. Because ... at least as I see it procrastination is synonym wiht putting off, not doing something until later, and so on - the emphasis is on the not-doing-now part of it..
Overspringshandlinger are the acts (handlinger) you're doing while procrastinating. The emphasis is on the things you do, while avoiding what you should do.
Let's take an example. Today I had three important thing on my agenda: Poetry Monday, Magazine editing and cleaning in my project room. Just after breakfast I sat myself down to write today's poem. It is Poetry Monday after all. First I checked my mail, answered the questions contained therein, and opened MSWord. But I had to go to the bathroom, and a cup of tea would be nice, too. In the bathroom the tub needs a cleaning, and we could do with some clean towels as well. I did this. The laundry basket is full, so I take it to the laundry place, but someone already started a load, which has just finished. I have to hang this first. Later I return to brew my cup of tea, but the sink needs cleaning, the dishwasher is full of clean stuff and needs emptying, and all the towels and so on also could do with a change ... I do this. Then I sit down to write. The Writer comes in and asks if I would like a cup of coffee - sure I would, as I forgot the tea. After the coffee break, another visit to the bathroom, and a photo session with yesterdays' Eco-printed papers. I finally sit down at the keyboard. But oops - the Words for Wednesday are in an open document, and I really had a nice idea last Wednesday night. Before I realise what happened, my fingers are dancing over the keyboard, typing out the tale I did not write last Wednesday.
This is Overspringshandlinger. The act of doing something good and needed in order to not do what you really should be doing ... is it the same as procrastination or not?

At least I wrote a little bit of Susan's story, using the first batch of these words in no particular order:
Church
Hazel
Hollow
Red
Whirlpool
     and/or
Cave
Mary
Near
Rapid
White

This is happening in the first school-year at Unicorn Farm.

The bells could be heard all the way from the old church on the mainland, this meant it was a windy day at Unicorn Farm, very much so. Susan saw Selma from the blue team draw her wand as they neared the hollow place in the road, where the wind would come against them from over the sea. A few greenish sparks flew from the end of her wand, but the expected whirlpool of warm and calm air did not envelope Selma.

Tähti came to her and asked for her wand. Selma handed it to her with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Having your wand taken was the ultimate punishment, and Selma had felt less and less capable these last weeks.

Tähti swished Selma's wand in an intricate pattern, then examined her wand closer. Susan walked a bit faster, overtaking the Swedish apprentices and saw Tähti test Selma's wand. She swung it through the air, and a few, feeble sparks flew.

Then she handed Selma her own wand, and made Selma cast some simple spells. An abundance of greenish sparks immediately flew from Tähti's wand and Tähti nodded slowly.

"Sour notes," she said.

"Sour notes?" Selma repeated, but in her mouth the statement became a question.

"I am sure, you were one of the last of the blue ones to have your wand sung," Tähti said.

"Yes," Selma replied. "I was then next to last, Grani was the last. But what has that to do with my seeming inability to learn what you all try to teach me here at the Farm?"

"Everything." Tähti said in a comforting voice, "Ever since I first saw you, I realised that you were neither stupid, or slow or anything else. We've been busy, but Thora and I have kept an eye on you. Now I'm certain that I or Thora hit a sour note when singing your wand. Let's hurry back to the Farm and sing you a new one. It is made of hazel, right?"

"Right," Selma replied, a tentative smile adorning her face.

... to be continued.
And the room still needs a cleaning, the magazine still some editing, and the poem is not yet written ...

Sunday Selection :: Eco-printing 2

Sunday a new trial run of Eco-printing on paper happened. This time one last alum mordanted sheet and two of the new ones mordanted with Aluminium Acetate (henceforth AA). I do not think the  differences are striking. Resulting prints to follow tomorrow in daylight.

-- 🍂 --

Søndag måtte jeg bare teste de nybejdsede ark med aluminiumacetat (AA) og det sidste alunbejdsede. Jeg synes ikke, forskellene er slående, men vi får se i morgen i dagslys.

Last of the Alum sheets (Alum 5), testing new and old leaves.

-- 🍃 --

Alun 5, det sidste alunbejdsede ark. En test af nye og gamle blade.

And the two first AA ones - confusingly labelled AA 5 & 6. I happened to turn the bunch of papers upside down - testing many of the same leaves as Alum 5, and some from Alum 1 - 4.

-- 🍁 --

Og de to første ark med AA - de er mærket AA 5&6 fordi jeg kom til at vende bundtet på hovedet - det er mange af de samme blade som Alun 5 og et par gengangere fra Alun 1-4.

-- 🍂 --

All these leaves surely contains at least some of the Colour of November: Pearl opal green

Og mon ikke bladene rammer månedes farve med det skønne navn perleopalgrøn.

-- 🍂🍃🍁 --

And oops, I forgot to press "Publish" before finding my bed.
Upsi, jeg fik ikke trykket på "Udgiv", inden jeg skyndte mig i seng.