Poetry Monday :: Family

   Poetry Monday er en udfordring, hvor Diane fra On the Border er vores vært.
     Nok engang spænder mit helbred ben for mig, nu jeg har det lidt bedre,, er jeg gået i gang med at rydde op i Susans historie.
     Det kom der så følgende lille, korte digt ud af.

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Poetry Monday is a challenge, hosted by Diane at On the Border. And once again stupid health issues makes me stumble. Now that I feel a little better, I have begun re-writing Susan's story. I then made the following, very short almost-rhyme. 


Susan's family.
Mom, dad, and Linda
Granny with magic
And Grandma without
Uncles so mundane
And Aunties so not.
Secrets are hidden
In books and in words
How can I ever
Tell you all I heard?

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And the Prompts for the coming Mondays:
Dictionary . . . . . October 16
Talk Shows . . . . . October 23
Mischief . . . . . October 30
Watermelon . . . . . November 6
Grandma's Kitchen . . . . . November 13
The Bus . . . . . November 20
A Pet's Life . . . . . November 27

Words for Wednesday ~ October 4

Wednesday means Words for Wednesday! I  did not feel like writing - or like most anything this Wednesday. Now I feel a little better, and writing is not an arduous endeavour. So ... I now used the Words. Not in the order they were given, but all of them.

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This challenge started a long time ago, and now it has become a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words are provided by a number of people.

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.

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In October Sean Jeating is supplying the prompts for Words for Wednesday shown at Elephant's Child's blog.

For this Wednesday we were given:
Daily
Friendly 
Human
Nodding
Wife 
     and/or
Bags
Gentlemen
Infinity 
Steps 
Veil

I continue the story of Susan and the Ghost House.

Susan left the newspaper office behind. Retracing her steps she found Mom still entangled in conversation with that other lady.
"I'll go home now, Mom," Susan said.
Mom smiled at her, nodding towards the grocery bags: "Please take the bags home," and continued listening to the talkative lady.

At home Susan had to put down the bags and go for the spare key in the niche to unlock the door. On the kitchen table was a note from Dad: The friendly farmer, who promised Linda a ride on his horses last winter, phoned shortly after you left. We went there. Be home for dinner.
Susan put the groceries where they belonged and walked up the stairs to the attic. She had to talk to Persephone, the girl ghost living there. She sat down by the small table in the guest room, looking at all the bottles, necklaces, seashells, and beads decorating the room. Mom had declared it a bit over the top, and had told Susan that the decorations would have to be pulled down whenever Granny came visiting. Percy the ghost loved everything shiny, and it was Susan's daily duty to dust or bring fresh flowers or new items to the small room. The newest addition was a glass bubble string. Each bead mirrored the rest, so the the string of glass beads seemed to stretch into infinity when you gazed into it, It mirrored and broke the sunlight making tiny rainbow coloured patters on the white table cloth. She sat lost in the mesmerizing patterns. Suddenly a vaguely human form sat in the chair opposite her.
"Good day, Percy," Susan spoke softly, not wanting to scare the ghost.
"Hello," Percy replied. "Why are you here?"
"Well, to talk with you for a while, and to admire those glass beads."
"They are truly amazing," Percy admitted.
 " Yesterday," Susan began, and then she told the story of them skating, passing quickly to the fire in the Ghost house and Percy's envy of their fun began boiling. She ended up by asking Percy: "Do you know anything of other ghosts, more specifically the ghosts from that house?"
"You want to look behind the veil, now?" Percy asked. "Well let me see. I once heard a story of some gentlemen in a house, and then the wife of one of them ... she did something bad to one of the other gentlemen, and then the husband of that wife did something badder, and they all ended up dead. I could go and see if you tell me where the house is. I do not know the whole story ..."
Susan explained where the house was relative to the skating place and the girl scouts' hut, both places known to Percy as they were also there when she lived. Susan had tried to find out when Percy ad died, but so far only gotten vague answers. Time as a ghost seemed not to be the same as time as a living.
Percy broke her reveries: "I know the house, it is the one I think of. I'll go there soon and tell you what I found out when I return. Do not go there. Those are mostly bad ghosts."
"I promise," Susan said. "Bad ghosts? Are they the ones that killed others?"
"Yup!" Percy said, "And those that go BOOOH! and try to scare you off. Not nice ones like me!"
"No, not like you at all," Susan said trying to keep a straight face. Percy was morose, given to crying bouts, which made things around her shake, fall over or tumble down. Rather scary actually. Susan did not fancy meeting bad ghosts.

Dansk nyhedsdækning -- Today in the news (Updated)

MotherOwl agonizing that the news about the weather extremes are given lowest priority in the Danish News media.
It is hidden further down than Sports, weepy stories and creepy stories
The petite news item at the bottom tells us: "Global heat records for the fourth month running."

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Ugens fredagsfrustration.
Snagen, sport, tårepersere, personvinklede historier om politikerne -- er det virkelig det, danske seere skal have?

Prøv at læse videre og næsten nederst finder vi: "Global varmerekord for fjerde måned i træk".

Var det mig, der bestemte, fyldte det hele forsiden.

Det her er altså TV2, den mere populariserende af vore to store nyhedskanaler.
Lad os tjekke DR, vores public service-kanal.

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And now to pour public service channel.

Helt hernede. Tak for kaffe.

It's almost all the way down. Going to hell in a handbasket!
The Public service one also hides it away at the bottom: "'It is over the top', expert says about the hottest September ever!"

IWSG ~ October 4, 2023

I wrote this IWSG post as the reminder arrived in my inbox. Words for Wdnesday will hopefully be written later today.  🎈

And a reason to 🎈 celebrate. 🎊 💙 This 🎉 is my post number 2222.  🎈 🎈

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October 4 question: The topic of AI writing has been heavily debated across the world. According to various sources, generative AI will assist writers, not replace them. What are your thoughts?

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My answer: I think the italicised statement is perfectly true. My experience with AI tells me that AI / ChatBots can tell you how to organize your text, but not write it for you - at least not producing anything I would sign my name to.
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Pulp fiction, romantic drivel, magazine whodunnits, now that's another issue altogether, because these are generic entertainment. This I fully see taken over by AIs

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As an example, let's take translation - we all grasp at what we know best, I suppose 😏
AIs - even the best - do not understand enough about languages, style and connotations to make decent translations from one Germanic languages into one another. And if you mix in other language groups, you're sure to have lots of entertainment and errors as a result.

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I try this regularly, and they have become better and better. But there's an undefined aura of wrong about those texts - apart for the glaring mistranslations where homographs are translated using the wrong word (something a human being captures immediately).

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My mother-tongue is Danish - I pride myself on writhing a solid, not too sophisticated English without too many odd expressions and stumble stones for the native reader. 

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Let's see how an AI does this job. 
My second blog post ever was just for fun -- I translated my very first blog post using Google translate. The link takes you to the blog post containing the original, the 2012 Google translate version, and my translation.
At regular interval I run it through to check.
Here it is courtesy of Google translate September 2023:

Usually I convene Mini-Max to make bread. It gets better than if I do it myself, but today he was in school and there was no bread for lunch, so I had to get started myself.
    3 deciliters spelled kernels are measured by in my indispensable deciliter dimensions that can accommodate 3 deciliters, and then they are painted to flour together with a few fennel seeds. It takes place with my German Melmølle. So it becomes much more when it is painted, about 5 dl.
 
Then there will be water in. Again, my indispensable 3-deciliter dimensions come into use: 2 dl. hot water and 4 dl. cold, then the water has the right temperature. Then I add salt and a teaspoon of white jersey and a teaspoon of hips, both first painted for powder. The acid in the rose powder makes the yeast work better. I also sometimes put strange things in from the closet, today a sprinkle of fiber food that the boys do not bother to eat anyway. In the end, I should not forget the yeast. ½ pack of yeast, preferably organic, and then it is all stirring with a dough hook, it is another of my indispensable aids in the kitchen.
    Then the dough raises, without the help of me only with the assistance of a minute, otherwise time will run from me and the breads become strange. If the writer is at home, he will be called to knead.
    For the most part, I remember throwing a quarter of deciliter of water into the oven when the loaves are inserted and before the oven closes. Then they raise a little better and get crispier.

When the breads are baked, they come up and stand and cool on the stove. Nam-nam.

Clear as ink, as we say in Danish.

I took a better translating device (DeepL). Now we have almost no errors (the only big mistranslation is italicised and explained in a note), but I would not publish this on my blog without a throughout revision - would you?

Normally, I call Mini-Max to make bread. It turns out better than if I do it myself, but today he was at school and there was no bread for lunch, so I had to do it myself.
   3 decilitres of spelt grains are measured in my indispensable 3 decilitre measure, and then ground into flour along with a few fennel seeds. This is done with my German flour mill. It turns into a lot more when it's ground, about 5 dl.
 
Then water is added. Again, my indispensable 3 decilitre measure comes into play: 2 dl. hot water and 4 dl. cold, so the water is at the right temperature. Then I add salt and a teaspoon of hawthorn tea and a teaspoon of rosehips, both first ground into powder. The acid in the rosehip powder makes the yeast work better. I also sometimes add weird things from the cupboard, today a sprinkle of fibre food that the boys don't want to eat anyway. Finally, don't forget the yeast. I use ½ packet of yeast, preferably organic, and then mix it all together with a dough hook, which is another of my indispensable kitchen tools.
   Then the dough rises, without any help from me, only with the assistance of a timer, otherwise I run out of time* and the loaves get weird. If the Writer is home, he is called in to knead.
   I usually remember to throw a quarter of a decilitre of water into the oven when the loaves are inserted and before the oven is closed. This helps them rise a little better and makes them crispier.

When the loaves are done baking, they are placed on the hob to cool. Yummy.

*Nopey-dopey ... I do not run out of time It's the time running from me. Aka. me forgetting that I have a bread either raising or baking.                   🎈

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Poetry Monday :: No poetry

Sorry everybody, MotherOwl is still not feeling her best.

No poetry today.

A month ago I took this glorius photo. It fits the Colour of the Month.