onsdag den 20. oktober 2021

Words for Wednesday -- October 20

All of October Elephant's Child is supplying us with prompts every Wednesday. What we do to them is up to us, poem, story, shopping list, ignore ... the grand idea is to make us write. 
  Go to Elephant's Child's place to read some good stories. This is a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true, therefore: Please, remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.

Today we had a photo and these words:

Horizon
Tired
Coincidence
Splashed
Holiday
Understand


  Today I'm adding another bit to the story from last Wednesday. We once again meet Paul, the bohemian painter. And Anders, from the Danisch chapters.
  I've been writing on this story on and off for at least 20 years. I hope to get a bit more done with this Autumn/Winter's prompts, when they do not allow me to finish Susan's story.
 The first two parts -- in Danish only -- can be found here and here.

  I have now translated them and placed all four pieces of this story in a sub-page called "Fodspor (Footsteps)" accessible via the eponymous tab
Fodspor on top of this page.
  Once again I took up the additional challenge of using the words in the order they were given. Unfortunately splashed got left out, and I cannot find a way to add it.


     Paul easily found his seat on the train to Germany, smokers and then a middle berth, just as he had requested when he bought the ticket.
    He sat down at the window and lit his pipe. When the big watch outside said two minutes to departure, he was still alone in the compartment. Paul was glad to have the whole place to himself; it had been right to leave on a Tuesday. Just as the departure whistle sounded, the door opened and a young man with short blond hair and a small beard dropped a bag on the seat opposite him and said a brief "Hello!" and immediately went back out into the corridor.

    Anders had been running the last bit of the way to the train. It was a nice surprise that so many of his friends and the old Father Augustine had been there to say goodbye to him, but they had been so late that there had only been time for a short, warm goodbye before he received Father Augustine's blessing, and all the good wishes of the others and ran the rest of the way to the train.
    He stood in the corridor, gazing absent-mindedly at the greying horizon until the train had passed Valby and he had caught his breath again. He was slightly annoyed. He had expected to have the compartment to himself on such a weekday evening, he was tired, and had been hoping for a good night's sleep in a deserted train. Now he was going to have to share the compartment with that long-haired artist type who would probably play guitar all night. Anders went into the compartment, put his bag in the net and with a sigh let himself down on the seat opposite the long-haired man.
 
    Anders sat for a while, looking around the compartment at the pictures in the small frames on either side of the mirror opposite, and smiled quietly to himself when he saw that one of them depicted the square in Bussenville.
    Paul was actually half asleep, but the return of the other man had brought him so much back to reality that he now sat studying Anders through half-closed eyes. He followed the other's gaze, and when he saw the smile on the other's face, he was suddenly back to his school days in Bussenville.
    "But you're Anders, aren't you?" he exclaimed, "what on earth are you doing here on a Tuesday night?"
    "Yes, my name is Anders," replied the latter, "but who are you?"
    "I'm Paul. Don't you recognize me?" Paul asked, puzzled, as he brushed his hair away from his face with both hands.
    "Yes, now I can see and recognize you, Paul. What a coincidence. Are you on your way home from a long weekend party in the capital, or what?" Anders asked "I remember your partying habits from school, and ..." Anders' diatribe petered out.
    "No, I'm actually on my way to southern Germany. To a little town called Burgdorf.
    "On a holiday?"  Paul asked, surprise making his voice shrill.
    "No, I'm going there to develop my painting skills. I won a scholarship." He told Paul in few words about the painting from the snowy day.
    "I'm also on my way to Burgdorf," Paul said with joy in his voice. "I'm going to enter the novitiate there!"
    "WHAT?" Anders exclaimed, "Have you become a saint..."
    "No, of course not, but I found out that ..."
    "Tickets, please!" a voice sounded from the corridor, and a burly ticket inspector poked his head through the door. He looked at the tickets and found everything as it should be. "I understand that you already know one another," he added. "Should I keep your tickets and passports until tomorrow? That'll save you being woken up at the border and after the larger stations all the way to Munich."
    "Yes please." Anders and Paul replied in unison.

mandag den 18. oktober 2021

Poetry Monday :: Meatloaf Appreciation

If you want to read some better  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! I think this theme should entice her to participate. Meatloafs can be baked as well -- we often do.
  SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments.

  Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey who has been a faithful participant, is slowly returning to blogging after her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way. And dare we hope that she will join Poetry Monday again.

- - - - -

I'll have to write more than one strophe
To tell of how we love meatloaf,
With gravy brown and mashed potatoes,
A green salad with red tomatoes

The Owlets they arrive and sniff
When from the oven there's a whiff
Of meatloaf in the frying pan
They'll save their appetite all they can

***

The bacon and the ground meat
They know a trick or two
And in a meatloaf they'll meet
up with some precious goo

The sweet red currant jelly
Enhanced by what it meets
Will gently fill our belly
Give joy to all who eats.

Then add some mashed potatoes
Their velvet luxury
Will make us feel so very close
A happy family.

***

Danish Meatloaf AKA Mock Hare.
For the loaf:
    300 g ground beef & 200 g ground pork - or equal parts
   50 g bacon, ground with the meats, or cut into small pieces - use scissors
    2 eggs
    2½ decilitre (lactose-free) milk
    75 g dried bread crumbs
    salt and pepper to taste
    2 tablespoons redcurrant jelly

For the cooking and gravy:
    Water, more milk, more redcurrant jelly, flour.
 
Chop the meat and bacon (or buy ground meat and cut the bacon into small pieces) and mix with the other ingredients. If it can't take up any more milk or if it cannot keep it's form, let it rest in a  cool place (the fridge) for 15 minutes and then stir in more milk, let rest a bit more if it's still too soft to form into a loaf. Brown on all sides in a frying pan pan and leave to simmer in a pot with water and jelly for about 1 hour, turning it over halfway and basting occasionally with milk. Pour off the cooking water. While keeping the mock hare hot, strain the cooking water and make it into a brown gravy by thickening with wheat flour, and season with red currant jelly, salt and pepper.
Serve with boiled or better mashed potatoes.
Or bake it: 15 minutes at 225 degrees C. Add water and jelly and bake for 30 minutes at 160 C basting with milk now and then, Pour off the water (save it for gravy) and bake another 15 minutes. 

søndag den 17. oktober 2021

Sunday Selections -- InkTober 2nd week

Mens jeg sad og overvejede InkTobers seneste stikord, faldt jeg over InkTober52 (et stikord pr. uge), og derfra fandt jeg videre til Simple Daily Drawing (et stikord om dagen året rundt). Og så lovede jeg mig selv at hvis jeg fortsatte med en tegning om dagen, så måtte jeg bruge noget bedre end det gamle kladdehæfte med gennemsigtige sider, jeg har brugt hidindtil. Og i dag, søndag, har jeg søreme fundet min gamle skitseblok frem.  😇
--- ✎ --- 🖋 ---

 While participating in the InkTober challenge, I stumbled over Simple Daily Drawing (a drawing prompt a day all year round) via InkTober52 (a prompt a week). And I promised myself that if I did continue doing this, from Sunday (today) I would use a better drawing pad than the old, repurposed school notebook with far too thin and transparent pages I've been using so far. I have found my old sketch block as a reward for persisting 😇

- - - - -

     Så, ikke mere snak, ugens tegninger; øh, jeg synes selv, jeg bliver lidt bedre, og jeg har faktisk lyst til at tegne.
     Og nu væver jeg, snakker udenom, kommer med undskyldninger og tøver igen. Kom så!

--- ✎ --- 🖋 ---


Well no more talking. I think that I am improving, and I feel more drawn to drawing, aka it's not always a chore any more.
Oh, still temporizing, procrastinating, playing for time, are we, MotherOwl?


En smule forklaring: den 12.: En Hearthstone fra World of Warcraft (ikke fra kortspillet), den bruges, når man er stuck.
Den 14.: Tick betyder tæge, hak eller tik (som i tik-tak) på engelsk, og jeg kunne ikke beslutte mig.
Den 16.: Stikord Fluffy, blød, men  den trehovedede hund i De vises sten, Harry Potter 1, hedder også Fluffy.

A bit of an explanation: 12th depicts a Hearthstone form World of Warcraft (not the card game). Used when stuck.
14th Tick, I could not decide which tick to go for.
16th: Fluffy is also the name of the three headed dog from Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.

--- ✎ --- 🖋 ---

Et par fotos fra den forgangne uge skal der altså også være plads til

- - - - -

I have to find room for those photos from the past week as well.

Dobbelt regnbue i nabolaget.
Double rainbow near home.

"Smok" betyder drage på polsk - mon ikke Smaug har sit navn derfra?
Smok is Polish for Dragon, I wonder if that was what inspired Smaug?

Mere polsk, broderemønstre på en æske med pølser.
More from Poland. Embroidery patterns on a crate of sausages.

Og to Ugle-bogholdere fra vores lokale bibliotek.
And two Owl book holders from our local library.

 - - - - -

Og så til noget ORANGE til Life in Colour. Dråberne dukkede jo op, og en af dem hedder faktisk Orange. Tegningen er farvelagt på computer (med Paint), det er ikke fantastisk, jeg kan meget bedre lide mine gamle, tyske vandfarver ... det kommer måske, vi har jo vinterferie. JUHUU!
.
--- 🧡 ---

  And to end on  a lighter note, and with something ORANGE for Life in Colour. The Droplets came alive again, as you can see in the drawings. One of them are called Orange. The drawing is coloured using Microsoft Paint. Not fab, I might find my tried and true German watercolours in the coming week - Autumn holidays YAHOO!



onsdag den 13. oktober 2021

Words for Wednesday -- October 13

All of October Elephant's Child is supplying us with prompts every Wednesday. What we do to them is up to us, poem, story, shopping list, ignore ... the grand idea is to make us write. 
  Go to Elephant's Child's place to read some good stories. This is a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true, therefore: Please, remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.

Machine
Telephone
Fiction
Delightfully
Trap
Skulduggery
     And/Or
Groaned
Umbrella
Fertile
Corner
Deft
Selection

Today I'm re-visiting an old main person of mine, Paul, from a story,, I've been writing on and off for at least 20 years. The first two parts -- in Danish only -- can be found here and here. If you try reading them via an online translating tool I would recommend DeepL. It is SO much better than "Giggle Translate".
  Once again I took up the additional challenge of using the words in the order they were given.


The answering machine went on, as he did not pick up the telephone when it was ringing. Paul just stood there listening. It felt like a piece of fiction, he had won a prize for the painting he had submitted. Delightfully surprised he scribbled the number and went outside to calm down a bit before calling the committee. He was still afraid it was a trap, some of his friends pulling his leg. On the other hand this would probably cross the border from pranks to skulduggery. Hesitantly he picked up the phone, and groaned as he looked to the slip of paper in his hand. Drops of water from the umbrella in the corridor, still wet after yesterday's showers, had made the number illegible.
His fertile mind invented ways and means of making the scribble legible: Ironing, lemon juice ... then from a corner of his mind rationality spoke: "Just listen to the answering machine once again!" With a deft move he made the tape rewind to the beginning, and found a new slip of paper and waterfast ink in his selection of writing materials.

mandag den 11. oktober 2021

Poetry Monday :: Throw a Party

If you want to read some better  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 slowly returning to blogging after her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way. And dare we hope that she will join Poetry Monday again.

-- 🎉 -- 

This Mondays topic is Throw a Party.

Hey, a party! Come let's go!
Cakes abounds and hot drinks flow.
Later we'll have dinner too
Steaks and jam, a single brew.
Then it's time for fun and play
Where the loosers have to pay.
Then we sell them back their stuff,
Easy now, don't be too rough.
We're all family and friends
Hoping this day never ends.
Alas as every good thing do
There's an end to this our party too.

- - - - -

Next Mondays topic is: Meatloaf Appreciation

søndag den 10. oktober 2021

Sunday Selections -- Bad Drawings

Det er søndag, og jeg lovede, eller stillede i udsigt, hvilket jo nok er det samme, at jeg ville vise ugens InkTober-tegninger på søndag.
     Desværre er jeg blevet så dårlig til at tegne på grund af manglende øvelse, at mine tegninger nok kun kan bruges som et skrækeksempel. Hvis du nogensinde bliver bare nogenlunde god til noget, så stop IKKE med at gøre det! Du kan se nogle af mine gamle tegninger ved at klikke på Tegninger i etiketterne (eller klikke på linket).
     Men jeg lovede det. Og løfter skal holdes, selv når det gør lidt ondt ...
     Først listen over stikord og min tyske fyldepen med blæk der kan slettes. Jeg har en ting, der hedder en Tintenkiller - blækdræber - som kan bruges til at rette fejl. Jeg har besluttet ikke at bruge den.
     Jeg tegner en skitse med blyant, tegner linjerne op med blæk og visker blyantsstregerne ud - i hvert fald i teorien.

--- ✎ --- 🖋 ---

It is Sunday. I promised -- or threatened --  to post my InkTober drawings. Sadly I have become so bad at drawing from lack of practise, that my drawings can only serve as a bad example. If you ever get just moderately good at something, please DO NOT stop doing it! You can see some of my old drawings by clicking the label Tegning (or use this link. Etiketter means Labels in Danish).
  But I promised. And promises are to be kept, even when it hurts a bit ...
  First, the list of prompts and my fountain pen, German made, with erasable ink. I have a thing called Tintenkiller - Ink-killer - which can be used to correct errors. I have decided not to use it.
  I sketch in pencil, draw the lines in ink, and erase the pencil - at least in theory.
   Det blev mandag den 4. inden jeg kom i gang ...
    To af dagene, tirsdag og onsdag fik jeg ikke tegnet tegningerne op med blæk. Jeg var kommet for sent i gang, jeg var træt ..
     Det der med at fotografere mine tegninger kunne jeg nok også blive bedre til ...
     Og nu væver jeg, snakker udenom, kommer med undskyldninger, tøver ... Kom så i gang, Uglemor!

OK! I er selv ude om det!


--- ✎ --- 🖋 ---

  I did not begin until Monday the 4th ...
  Two of the days, Tuesday and Wednesday, I was too busy or felt too lousy to do more than sketch ...
  My drawing photography skills are wanting too ...
  And now, I'm temporizing, procrastinating, playing for time ... Get it done already, MotherOwl!

OK! You asked for it. Here we go:
Så kan jeg da kun håbe på at blive bedre resten af oktober ;)

--- ✎ --- 🖋 ---

I can only say that I hope to improve during the rest of October .

---

Og så til noget helt andet: Noget ORANGE til Life in Colour. Et billede af et nøgle garn, jeg købte bare fordi jeg kunne lide farverne.

--- 🧡 ---

  And to end on  a lighter note, and with something ORANGE for Life in Colour. A photo of a skein of yarn, I bought only because I loved the colours.
The label at the beginning of the yarn says: Strik og smil - Knit and smile.

lørdag den 9. oktober 2021

Mere cirkelstrik -- More Circular Knitting.


 Cirkelstrik, som det Statistrikk laver, kan strikkes på mange måder og til utallige formål. Med inspiration i hendes herlige ponchoer, siddeunderlag og bordskånere, har jeg fundet på vandhaneskørter.
     Her er endnu et, denne gang i mørke farver og strikket på en ny måde, en pind med hver farve. Det giver blandt andet en interessant kant, der ikke nødvendigvis behøver en hæklet afslutning for at være fin.
     Jeg har også brugt "forskudte korte rækker" for at undgå de koncentriske cirkler efter vendingerne. Det ser ud til at virke.
       På billederne er vandhaneskørtet hverken vasket eller strukket, så det ser lettere ujævnt ud.

*  ⃝  *

Inspired by Statistrikk's Circular knitting -- ponchos, transportable pillows (for lack of the right word), and trivets, I made the tap skirts.
  Here's another one in dark colours testing a new idea. One colour for each row. This makes a nice edge, that does not need a crocheted border to look finished.
  I also used the "offset short row" technique to avoid the concentric circles look. It is working, I think.
  Pictures of this idea, not washed or stretched yet.

Strikket på pinde 3 i alm 4/8 bomuldsgarn. Slået op: 25 m, og strikket som her.
Knit on 3 mm. needles with 4/8 cotton yarn. I cast on 25 stitches and proceeded like here.

Nærbillede af kanten -- Close up of the edge.

onsdag den 6. oktober 2021

Words for Wednesday -- October 6

These are the words that Elephant's Child gave us:

Unsuitable
Ladies
Didn't
Crocodile
Home
Cards
     And/Or
Life
Wall
Appeared
Voice
Both
Slipper

And this is what happened to them:

It's unsuitable for ladies!
But we didn't see the crocodiles.
We sat at home playing cards.

We lived our life turned to the wall
Until suddenly a voice appeared.
That gave us both freedom and slippers!

Let's call it free verse with a touch of lexicography.

tirsdag den 5. oktober 2021

October! - InkTober? - Maybe.

 October is many things:
- Oktoberfest-time (not this year).
- Month of the Rosary
- Inktober - draw something in ink each day.
- Blogtober - blog every day for 31 days.
- Øktober - buy more thing in organic quality.
And there's an inordinate number of memorials, obervances and Saints' days in October, poor month.
Always on the third or thereabouts I remember ... Oops, it's October! Time to bake Rosary muffins - and pray the Rosary. Time to draw in ink, time to ... and then I feel overwhelmed and give it all up.
This year I only promise to post eventual (and mosty ugly) drawings from the past week in Sunday Selections. I just hope Jude from Life in Colour will forgive me for not using orange ink.

Here's the list of prompts for InkTober - and yes I inverted the colours. I have visual problems, making it super-hard to read white on black.


mandag den 4. oktober 2021

Monday Poetry :: Golf

If you want to read some better  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 slowly returning to blogging after her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way. And dare we hope that she will join Poetry Monday again.

-- -- 

This Mondays topic is Golf. This time aroung it's a bit strange, more lines rhyn´me with no mean or measure. So sorry, it was the best I could do. Here we go:

If you like to golf; now your pardon I beg,
I tried it and found it was boring as heck,
But the golf balls were funny and lovely too
They fit in a small hand. My daughter and I
We rolled them and sent them in each other's way
Then yellow balls, white ones, the prize one, a blue
Took turns all a-rolling as all good balls do.
The fun only ended as brother grew up.
And learned how to throw them, he was a bit rough.
And golf balls are heavy and hurt quite a lot.
The hurting parts meant that this fun had to stop.
Now deep in a drawer a pyramid lays
Of golf balls in layers, and there they will stay,
The yellow ones, white ones, the blue at the top.
Until once again small hands need a good play.

- - - - -

Next Mondays topic: Throw a Party


søndag den 3. oktober 2021

Sunday Selections -- Strange Fruit

Thanks for support, well wishes and sympathy. I'll post a few photos from yesterday because yes, it is still Sunday here 2 hours to go :)

On our neighbour's fence an Akebia is growing. It is old and big, and for many years we have enjoyed the flowers in late spring and early summer.
Here it is - big and green.

But a closer look revealed this:
I thought at first sight that some prankster had hung sweet potatoes on the vine, and so did my neighbour when I asked her what was growing there. But upon closer inspection it was fruits from the Akebia.

It looks a bit strange, should be edible, but nothing special. I',m going to try and grow some of the seeds.


fredag den 1. oktober 2021

Words for Wednesday -- September 29 - No words

Sorry no story this Wednesday - or Friday either. I came this far:
  More than once now  I promised to continue the depressing story of Susan's decay. As it's also my story, I am free to tell it. But I'm afraid it won't be told ... Well, you might be able to guess that Susan did not keep her promises. She did not constrain herself to soft drinks and pool. Or coming home early and going to school next day ... I gave a hint in these paragraphs from Sarah and her children:

"The magic was taken from them, as from all of us." Susan paused. "Did you ever read the Harry Potter books?" Frank and Freya nodded, and Susan continued: "Well, it seems that the magical societies all over followed very much the same pattern. In Denmark - and Sweden, Norway, Finland, Iceland and the Faroes; we were one realm with one school - a small group of wizards had the idea that we had suffered for long enough. That it was our turn to reign. Only this reign they dreamt of was what you and I would probably call a reign of terror. We defeated them, but to do so, we had to abandon our own magic. Everybody, us apprentices, the teachers and the by then not so small group of would be-despots were poisoned and had their magic taken from them."
Knud continued: "And all the magicians surviving that day, were left with a longing, a hole inside, a missing part you might call it. Many died over the next few years, and of the surviving, a good part went to sects or turned to drinking or drugs."
"I did too," Susan said, "But then I met Knud. Of course I did not recognize him, but I fell in love with him. And love is often a cure-all.
 But I'd much rather continue with the tales of Unicorn Farm, and Birch Manor, than with the rambling ways of an anti-social, unadapted youngster.
  And now that Cindi has provided us with this wonderful photo, I'm continuing the story of the ruins of Unicorn Farm from here



"Come over here!" Tage yelled. "I found a house!"

And then I ran out of steam and energy. I know what I want to tell, I jhave the pictures and the story inside my head, but I can't write. I don't know what's wrong, I know I need a holæiday, and that I won't have one for a long time yet. Dark autumn mornings have set in - an month before time, blame France, and EU for prolonged DST. It's cold, windy, ... maybe I'm just suffering from anticipatory SAD.

tirsdag den 28. september 2021

Unicorn Farm - the Blog

  Now (yes right now, time and date) I have been publishing bits and pieces of Susan's adventures at the Unicorn Farm, in Elsinore, and at Birch Manor for 3 years. 
  The storyline has become more convoluted with each passing chapter, sometimes needing the intervention of Timetravel or black holes to keep ends together.
  Because of this, I suspect that I am sometimes loosing you, making you wonder how this or that is going to end, or continue, when in fact I have already written about it - long ago.
  I have collected all my half-baked chapters about Susan and her friends in one blog - called Unicorn Farm & Birch Manor. The tab Unicorn Farm at the top of this blog will take you there.
  The header and tabs on that blog is a biggie, looking like this:
An introduction is just that, an introduction to Susan's world and my writings.
The tabs from Prequel to The End are all the things happening at Unicorn Farm, spanning roughly three years.
Who's Who - a list of persons, ever growing.
Birkehuset (Birch Manor) to Birch Manor - New Year are all about all the happenings about 50 years later.  Maybe spanning one, one and a half years.
Miscellaneous Tales and so on are the more mysterious, strange, uncanny and so on tales still happening at Unicorn Farm, but which are not a part of the "official" timeline.
Return to "MotherOwl's Musings" takes you back to this blog.

  These tabs are bound to change places, be taken down or renamed or augmented. But the general idea will remain the same.
  So whenever you get lost in my jumps in time and space, or if you wonder what happened to Rósa or Percy the Ghost or if Susan's children and their children actually had magic, this is where to go.

  At some indeterminate date in the future, Unicorn Farm - the blog will probably be taken down again. This means that I have hopes of publishing it in a revised, not self-contradictory edition as a book.
  Or if some accident should befall MotherOwl, the missing chapter, Epilogue,  the missing link between Unicorn Farm and Birch Manor, will once again become public (autoposting set to some future date, if I'm not there to stop it).

I hope this helps.

mandag den 27. september 2021

Poetry Monday :: Ask a Stupid Question

  We've always been taught that no question is stupid.
  But I think nonetheless that the question asked in this song is stupid. Because you can't truthfully answer in the affirmative:


Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques,
Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?
Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines!
Ding, dang, dong. Ding, dang, dong.

Are you sleeping? Are you sleeping?
Brother John, Brother John,
Morning bells are ringing! Morning bells are ringing!
Ding, dang, dong. Ding, dang, dong.

Mester Jacob, mester Jacob!
Sover du, sover du?
Hører du ej klokken?
Hører du ej klokken?
Bim, bam, bum. Bim, bam, bum!

And I'm sorry not to be more creative and so on for this Poetry Monday.
I'm having neck troubles, leading to dizziness, drastically diminishing my computer time and my fun.

Next Mondays topic: Golf 

onsdag den 22. september 2021

"Words for Wednesday" 8-Tracks Turned into Walkman

  The photo from today - thank you, Cindi - could have been my sister and I looking for Graveyard Tom, (the father, grandfather, uncle etc. of our inbred cat).
  Go to Cindi's place to read some real stories. This is a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true, therefore: Please, remember to go back, read other peoples' stories there or follow their links back. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction.


Because try as I may. I cannot find any words to suit the photo. On the other hand I cite myself from this Monday's poetry challenge: "In Danish there's a song about the joys and sorrows of owning a Walkman - I'd like to translate it, but I'm not sure I can do it." Well, now I tried, and here it is.
 

I went for a walk in the wood
You know it is healthy and good
But oh my, all the noise
From the dogs, birds, and boys ...

All the birds and the boys did but scream.
So I hurriedly left there again.
Yes that's what I did,
It's what you'd have done too ... but

    Now I have gotten a Walkman
    And the wood sounds like New York man
    And nobody's gonna disturb me no more.

    When the cassette is playing
    You can hardly hear the birds' sing
    And nobody's gonna disturb me no more.

It has a button to turn down the sound
That is if anyone else is around
That I'd talk to and listen again
But I think they're trying in vain.

When I've listened for a whole week
I think I've forgotten how to speak.
But I have music in my ear!

    So just you turn on your Walkman!
    Listen to Bessie and Pork-man
    You're feeling fine listening to your favourite band.

    And you see boys aiding girls when
    Their batteries are flattened
    And a cop is conducting a traffical jam.

    (Instrumental)

    Now I have turned on my Walkman
    And made the woods sound like New York man
    And nobody's gonna disturb me no more.

    And all the men and lady Jones
    are out wearing their own headphones
    And nothing is ever gonna disturb them no more!

Link to the original tune: Walk, mand!

mandag den 20. september 2021

Poetry Monday :: Remembering 8-Track -- No Poetry Version -- Updated.

If you want to read some better  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 slowly returning to blogging after her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way. And dare we hope that she will join Poetry Monday again.

-- -- 

This Mondays topic is Remembering 8-track. I had to look it up, and as 8-track just never reached Denmark, I have no memories of it.

My early recording memories were the big, heavy reel-to-reel tape recorders lugged around by professionals. Then came the endless loop cassettes - soo smart - and just maybe those actually were 8-tracks? As I wrote in the comments section, they were not in personal use, but used by shops, ferry-lines and so on for announcing of offers, practical notices and so on.
  Later the small dictaphones entered, and finally - wonder of wonders - the compact cassettes. We had an early prototype with mike and all, and me and my sister made mock radio-reportages from wannabe jungle expeditions in our backyard. Waterfall and insect sound effects in the background were made by inventive procedures.
   The Walkman only joined the party as I was
almost grown up. My sister, 3 years younger than me, had one, but I never bothered.
  As you see from this, I was not much into listening to music all the time, although I remember one very long holiday by car where we had forgotten the tapes at home, and only had one music casette to listen to all holiday!


In Danish there's a song about the joys and sorrows of owning a Walkman - I'd like to translate it, but I'm not sure I can do it - or that I can do it without being chased by copyright-owners. Danish music-copyright-rules are tough and meticulously upheld
.

 - - - - -

Upcoming topics:
Ask a Stupid Question (September 27)
Golf (October 4)
Throw a Party (October 11)
Meatloaf Appreciation (October 18)
Opera (October 25)


søndag den 19. september 2021

Sunday Selection - Golden

Golden candlesticks, golden cloth and a newly ordained deacon. The golden mitre belongs to our bishop, the bishop of Copenhagen, and the only Catholic bishop of Denmark, Greenland and the Faroe isles (he has one of the worlds largest dioceses when measured in square kilometres).
It was a golden day!

Linking up with Sunday Selection, hosted by Elephant's Child and Life in Colour, hosted by HeyJude, where the colour of the month is golden.

torsdag den 16. september 2021

Machine Translations at Unicorn Farm 😉

We all agree that Google translate is not stellar, I often call it Giggle translate because the resulting text is so far off the mark as to make me giggle. But one of my sons told me about a new machine translator called DeepL. It should be way better.

Let's test it!

This next chapter is a chapter I obviously wrote in Danish. It is a sort of missing link, combining the stories of Martine and Fiona; but I am not in the mood for translating. So I tried something new: This chapter is translated using www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version).
I corrected one thing, there might be more. Birkegården means Birch Manor, but as a name it's not translated.
Let me hear, what you think.


A week later, Fiona's car rolled up in front of Birch Manor.
I know you didn't want visitors yet, Fiona said as they pulled up, completely bewildered to have visitors in their new home. But tomorrow is 17 May, Martine's birthday. Shouldn't we surprise her with a visit today. There was something I had to look at. And don't worry, the magic wand is in the glove compartment.
They spent a nice drive together in Fiona's car, refreshing old memories and banter. And making plans for the new school of magic. Fiona remembered that the brooms were bought in the Blind Work in Copenhagen.
The biggest problem was books. Susan had her copy of Everyday Magic for Witches and Wizards, but that wasn't much to build a school on. "We'll probably ask for help from abroad." Susan said. I wonder if Ella couldn't help us, hopefully she's still alive. I don't think Kensuke and Teiko will be much help there. Neither of us seem to read Japanese."
"Maybe Finnbogi and Rósa have something up at that weird museum of Icelandic witchcraft and sorcery or whatever it was called?" Knud added.
"Oh, I went there once, right after they opened," Fiona said. "It was repulsive and exciting at the same time. Rósa works there. Fantastic, and Finnbogi. How many have you found so far?"
"We've checked on almost all the apprentices from the Unicorn Farm, but it's a pretty sad story," Knud said, pulling his book out of his backpack. So many of them have died, but of natural causes, we suspect. And many of David's loyal supporters were among the first to go wrong. So we don't think there's any criminal or revenge motive behind it."
"In short, you don't buy the idea that Teresa had anything to do with it?"
"No, not really, anyway. It's a bit too random who survived, and so most of them weren't hard to find."
"And one last thing," Susan said. "It just occurred to me, but the deaths stop about when David dies.  Maybe she - or they - even got off on the wrong foot around then?"
"That sounds like a thought," Knud said. "Let me check." A little later he looked up from the book again. "You're quite right. Apart from Kalle Berggren, who didn't die until eight years later, it actually stopped with David's death. I bet if we look hard we can find your Teresa's death around there too, but the question is whether we want to bother now, there's so much else to do."

"You're right. It's probably just my fear of them being overactive. I guess I'll just have to get used to the fact that they've been dead and gone for so many years, when they're alive and well in my mind's eye," Fiona sighed. "But now for something completely different. Martine. If I can cure her ... Or rather, help her ills. And it won't be in a day, even with magic. That would probably just arouse suspicion too. So what are your plans?"
"Our plans, and hers, are to find her a handicapped-accessible home near the Birch House. We haven't looked yet, but there should be something. Maybe she can stay with us for a while, we have enough space when not all the children are visiting at once."
"Yes, with my help and especially with her magic, she should actually be able to manage on her own," Fiona said slowly. "That sounds like a good idea. And she's not going to be lonely, we need her help, too, very much! And then I have another question. How will you check if people you meet have magic abilities, i.e. are witches or wizards? I've wondered if any of my children or grandchildren were magicians, but I haven't really dared to do anything about it yet. And I don't know how to go about it."
"That's actually a really good question. We've thought about it a lot, but haven't really had time to make anything of it with all the moving," Knud said. "How did you get tested?"
"I read in a big Icelandic book one day at school - and I could actually read it," Susan told us. "And then on summer vacation I found my way to the Unicorn Farm and met Gilvi."
"I was inside with a fortune teller at a travelling carnival," Fiona told me. "She asked me if I'd like to look in the fortune-teller's ball, and I saw a building, the Unicorn Farm, of course. Then she handed me a leaflet about the local 4H and told me to give it to my parents so they could sign me up for the rabbit jumping course. I wasn't the least bit interested, but I did as she said, and my parents were very keen to get both me and Veronika there. I reckon it was suggestive paper," Fiona sighed. "At 4H I was sent down to a small gloomy room where there were some other children, Sarah, Knud and those from Northern Norway, My, Marit, Astrid and Olav, and then we were escorted out to the Unicorn Farm under Jon's leadership.

"I picked a bunch of flowers and leaves in the forest, and an old woman came and asked me if she could have it - it was Tähti," Knud replied. "The next day there was a leaflet in the post box - and from there my story follows Fiona," Knud said smiling.
"But that probably doesn't help us much," said Fiona. "I usually just do instead of thinking long and hard, but right now I'm hesitant. Maybe Martine knows something." 

***

Knud directed Fiona the last few miles to the nursing home, and just like last time, they were inside the bakery buying cakes. This time they bought a small layer cake, just the right size for four people.
It was the same girl as last time who was sitting at the reception desk and she cheered up when she saw them: "Oh, I'm so glad to see you again, Martine's been so up since you were here. She's started taking part in physiotherapy and also some arts and crafts. It's fantastic. You know the way, so just go up there."

"You must be Fiona," Martine exclaimed once the three visitors had entered. "You look like yourself, you're just older."
"Yes, I am Fiona," replied the latter. "I recognise you too."
"That's a kind way of putting it," said Martine. "I don't look like myself anymore."
"Yes," Fiona said, continuing over Martine's protests. "It's true that your body isn't whole anymore, but you, your soul, or whatever cat I should call it, there inside you, still looks like who you were." Martine looked up at Fiona. "I've gotten stronger since those two were here last," she said with a sly smile. "I've been working out. Every day, not just in physical therapy. and I've been working on a test tool. We need a way to distinguish mages from non-mages." 
"I told you!" Knud exclaimed. "Martine has the solution."
The nurse came in with a tray of coffee, cups and so on. She noticed the layer cake on the table and smiled broadly. "Well, someone's in good time. Enjoy!"
"Thank you!" The four of them replied into each other's mouths.
Fiona poured and Martine narrated while Knud cut the cake. "Well, I thought we needed to know who was going to school at Birkegården. So I made a gizmo. You know, one of those witch lizard brain scrambler things made of wood and coloured strings." She paused and stuck a hand in a bag on the back of the wheelchair. Susan couldn't help but notice how much more mobile she had become and smiled appreciatively. "You can do what you want, almost then," Martine said. "This one is magical. It resists being solved if you're not a magician. Leave it, and some normal ones like it, out next time the children and grandchildren come to visit. Those who stick with it long enough to solve it have the magic in them." She handed the gadget to Susan.
"You only made one?" Fiona asked?"
"Well, I can't do magic." Martine replied, and they all burst out laughing. 
"You can test your grandchildren with a painting competition, just ask them to paint animals and you'll see!"
"Great idea!" Fiona replied. "And then my kids will be exposed by their kids. That's clever!"

onsdag den 15. september 2021

Words for Wednesday -- September 15

  All September, and so also today, the third Wednesday of September, the prompts are given by Cindy at Of Dandelions and Sunshine.
  The prompt for today is a challenge: "They say a picture is worth 1,000 words. Write at least 100 words about the image below."



A long time ago, back in November 2019, I wrote about Susan and her family returning from Paris (After the drama with the Gargoyle) and driving to Aunt Dina and Uncle Kurt's summerhouse late one evening. I did not tell of the crossing of the bridge. It was a special thing for Susan and her sister Linda:

Susan and Linda sat in each their corner of the back-seat of the car. Linda was mad because they were not going home, and Susan was sad because she wanted to get to Unicorn Island in a hurry. She could not read in the car, as it made her sick, and even thinking of becoming sick made her feel queasy.
  Mum suggested singing something together. And after a zillion iterations of Frère Jaques in English, French and Danish, Susan felt a bit better, and Linda was not glowering any more.
  They crossed a small bridge, and Mum said: "Soon you'll see the water to the right, and then we'll cross the big bridge. After that it's not far to Aunt Dina's summerhouse."

"That big bridge?" Linda asked.

"The one with the arches?" Susan asked.

"I bet we'll meet a train in the middle once again." Linda said.

"I don't like that bridge," Susan said, "Those who built it, did not measure accurately. One half is way longer than the other."

Susan and Linda looked at one another, and as they sighted the water and the ramp leading to the bridge they began singing:

"Oh we do never ever more
want to cross that big bad bridge.
For one half of it is long
and the other half is short,
and every time we reach the middle
A train comes rolling by!"

They repeated this homemade verse several times all the way up on the bridge, over it, under the pylons - where they of course were met by a rapidly rolling German train going in the opposite direction - and all the way off the bridge. Mum and Dad had had more than enough of this song when the car finally set wheels on Zealand.

295 words.

tirsdag den 14. september 2021

Statistrikks cirkler - et problem og en løsning

Statistrikk's Circles - a Problem and a Solution

Flere gange allerede har jeg fortalt om Statistrikks sjove citrusskiver, men der er et lille problem ved dem. Ud over at man bliver afhængig af at strikke dem.
  --  Statistrikk --
Several times already I have told about knitting the ctrius circles from Statistrikk, but there's a problem with these circles, apart form their addictivenes



Se på det herl billede af en citronskive -- Look at this photo of a lemon circle
Her ser man tydeligt hullerne efter de vendte rækker; de danner koncentriske cirkler i citronskiven.

Concentric circles from turning the short rows can be clearly seen in this lemon slice.



Men i denne her moste squash (tak til Skribenten for den rammende beskrivelse) er der ingen huller at se.

In this squash-ed one (thanks to The Writer for this apt description) the holes does not make a pattern.


--- ⚬ ◯ ⚬ ---

Det er fordi jeg slår en maske for meget op - her 25 i stedet for 24  og så vender jeg med skiftevis en i overskud i den ene og i den anden ende af pinden.
     Altså jeg slår 25 masker op og første kile strikker jeg:
25 r. vend, slå om, 25 r;
20  r. vend, slå om, 20 r;
16  r. vend, slå om, 16 r;
12  r. vend, slå om, 12 r;
8 r. vend, slå om, 8 r;
4 r. vend, slå om, 4r.

     Anden kile:
25 r - hvor de omslåede m strikkes sammen med den følgende maske, vend 25 r;
21 r. vend, slå om, 21 r;
17  r. vend, slå om, 17 r;
13  r. vend, slå om, 13 r;
9  r. vend, slå om, 9 r;
5  r. vend, slå om, 5 r.
     Ved skiftevis at strikke de to kiler (og naturligvis strikke omslagene sammen med den følgende maske også i kile 3 og så videre), bliver hullerne en m. forskudt i forhold til hinanden og danner ikke så tydelige koncentriske cirkler.

- ⚬ ◯ ⚬ -

To achieve this I cast on one excess stitch - here 25 instead of 24 - and I the knit the wedges with one supernumerary stich alternately in one or the other end of the needle. Like this:
First wedge: 
knit 25 turn, knit 25;
knit 20 turn, yarn over, knit 20;
knit 16 turn, yarn over, knit 16;
knit 12 turn, yarn over, knit 12;
knit 8, turn, yarn over, knit 8;
knit 4, turn, yarn over, knit 4.

Second wedge:
knit 25 and knit all yarn over togethter with the following stitc so as not to make holes or more stitches, turn, knit 25;
knit 21 turn, yarn over, knit 21;
knit 17 turn, yarn over, knit 17;
knit 13 turn, yarn over, knit 13;
knit 9 turn, yarn over, knit 9;
knit 5 turn yarn over, knit 5.
Alternating those two wedges (of course also knitting the yarn over togetther with the next stitch in wegde 3 and onwards), offsets the turning points, and gives me a nicer look.

mandag den 13. september 2021

Poetry Monday :: Defy Superstition

If you want to read some more, and better  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 slowly returning to blogging after her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way. And dare we hope that she will join Poetry Monday again.

-- -- 

This Mondays topic is Defy superstition. Again I have not much to say. I don't do superstition. But a wannabe-haiku I could manage.


Stars, fates or fortunes?
All those are swept away by
Baptismal waters

 - - - - -

Upcoming topics:
Remembering 8-Tracks (September 20) Another from Mimi
Ask a Stupid Question (September 27)
Golf (October 4)
Throw a Party (October 11)
Meatloaf Appreciation (October 18)
Opera (October 25)

lørdag den 11. september 2021

Frugtstrik - Knitted Fruits

     Hvorfor dette indlæg aldrig nåede at blive udgivet, er et af livets meget små mysterier. Det skulle have været udgivet et par dage efter dette her fra den 27. november sidste år og svare bekræftende på at det var en vandmelon.

-- 🍈 --

  Why this post never was published, is a good question. It was supposed to be published a couple of days after this one from November 27 and give an answer to my question: It is indeed a watermelon.


Her er det færdige vandmelonskiveudsnit. De tre kiler til højre i billedet viser, hvordan den skal se ud.

-- 🍈 --

This is the finished slice of a watermelon-circle. The three wedges to the right show how it's supposed to look.
The pattern down below is in Danish only. I do not want to spend a lot of time translating it unless someone wants to use it. Then just say so, and a translation will be made.

-- 🍈 --

Opskrift her nedenunder. Der skal strikkes 24 kiler, så det er vigtigt, at man hverken strikker for løst
eller for stramt. Mit vandmelonskiveudsnit er for stramt strikket på pinde 3, jeg ville ikke nå rundt med 24 kiler. Derfor har jeg skrevet p. 3,5 i min opskrift. Jeg kan ikke finde ud af at måle strikkefastheden på cirkelstrik, men 6 kiler skal give 1/4 vandmelonskive.

Strik en vandmelon a la Statistrikk.

Inspirationen kommer stadigvæk fra Statistrikk.

Garn i vandmelonfarver:
Et nøgle mørke-lyserødt garn (Det bliver ikke brugt op, men man kan jo ikke købe halve eller kvarte nøgler - man kan strikke 2 vandmeloneskiver af et nøgle garn.)
Et nøgle lyse-lyserødt (Som man bruger endnu mindre af - der er nok til 10 vandmelonskiver)
En rest off-white, mørkegrøn og lysegrøn (eller endnu mindre af tre nye nøgler)

Slå 24 m op på p. 3,5 med mørke-lyserødt garn.
Strik 24 m ret vend, 1 m løs af 23 r.

*
Kile med lyserød kant:
Strik 20m, vend, slå om, strik 20 m tilbage.
Strik 16 m, vend, slå om, strik 16 m tilbage.
Strik 12 m, vend, slå om, strik 12 m tilbage.
Strik 8 m, vend, slå om, strik 8 m tilbage.
Strik 4 m, vend, slå om, strik 4 m tilbage.
Skift til lyse-lyserød. Strik r over alle 24 m, og strik omslagene sammen med næste m. Så bliver der ingen huller i strikketøjet.
Vend, tag 1 m løst af og strik 23 m tilbage.

Kile med stor, lys kile: 
Skift til mørke-lyserødt. Lad bare den lyse-lyserøde tråd hænge til næste gang den skal bruges, men sørg for at gøre den løs nok, når du starter på næste lyse-lyserøde kile. Der skal alligevel hækles over kanten, så man kan lige så godt hækle over trådene også i stedet for at skulle hæfte en masse ender.
Strik 20m, vend, slå om, strik 20 m tilbage
Strik 16 m, vend, slå om, strik 16 m tilbage.
Skift til lyse-lyserødt og strik 12 m, vend, slå om, strik 12 m tilbage.
Strik 8 m, vend, slå om, strik 8 m tilbage.
Strik 4 m, vend, slå om, strik 4 m tilbage.
Skift til mørke-lyserød. Strik r over alle 24 m, og strik omslagene sammen med næste m.

Kile med lille, lys kile: 
Strik 20m, vend, slå om, strik 20 m tilbage
Strik 16 m, vend, slå om, strik 16 m tilbage.
Strik 12 m, vend, slå om, strik 12 m tilbage.
Skift til lyse-lyserødt og strik 8 m, vend, slå om, strik 8 m tilbage.
Strik 4 m, vend, slå om, strik 4 m tilbage.
Skift til mørke-lyserød. Strik r over alle 24 m, og strik omslagene sammen med næste m.

Kile med lyserød kant:
Strik 20m, vend, slå om, strik 20 m tilbage.
Strik 16 m, vend, slå om, strik 16 m tilbage.
Strik 12 m, vend, slå om, strik 12 m tilbage.
Strik 8 m, vend, slå om, strik 8 m tilbage.
Strik 4 m, vend, slå om, strik 4 m tilbage.
Skift til lyse-lyserød. Strik r over alle 24 m, og strik omslagene sammen med næste m. Så bliver der ingen huller i strikketøjet.
Vend, tag 1 m løst af og strik 23 m tilbage.

Kile med lille, lys kile: 
Strik 20m, vend, slå om, strik 20 m tilbage
Strik 16 m, vend, slå om, strik 16 m tilbage.
Strik 12 m, vend, slå om, strik 12 m tilbage.
Skift til lyse-lyserødt og strik 8 m, vend, slå om, strik 8 m tilbage.
Strik 4 m, vend, slå om, strik 4 m tilbage.
Skift til mørke-lyserød. Strik r over alle 24 m, og strik omslagene sammen med næste m.


Kile med stor, lys kile: 
Skift til mørke-lyserødt. Lad bare den lyse-lyserøde tråd hænge til næste gang den skal bruges, men sørg for at gøre den løs nok, når du starter på næste lyse-lyserøde kile. Der skal alligevel hækles over kanten, så man kan lige så godt hækle over trådene også i stedet for at skulle hæfte en masse ender.
Strik 20m, vend, slå om, strik 20 m tilbage
Strik 16 m, vend, slå om, strik 16 m tilbage.
Skift til lyse-lyserødt og strik 12 m, vend, slå om, strik 12 m tilbage.
Strik 8 m, vend, slå om, strik 8 m tilbage.
Strik 4 m, vend, slå om, strik 4 m tilbage.
Skift til mørke-lyserød. Strik r over alle 24 m, og strik omslagene sammen med næste m.
*

Dette er en kvart vandmelon. Gentag fra* til * to gange mere hvis du vil have en 6/8 vandmelon til vasken,. Hvis du vil have en hel vandmelonskive, så gentag tre gange mere og sy sidste pind sammen med opslagspinden.
Hækl med off-white garn og hæklenål nr. 4 fastmasker hele vejen rundt. En fm i hvert rillemellemrum. Bryd garnet og hækl med lysegrønt en fm i hver fm. Bryd garnet og hækl med mørkegrønt 1 fm i hver fm.
Hæft ender og nyd din vandmelon.

onsdag den 8. september 2021

Words for Wednesday - September 8

  All September, and so also today, the second Wednesday of September, the prompts are given by Cindy at Of Dandelions and Sunshine.
  The prompt for today is a challenge: "They say a picture is worth 1,000 words.   Write at least 100 words about the image below.."



Back to Susan's/my childhood and schooldays.

"Write a 100 word essay on this picture", Inger, their nice English teacher wrote on the blackboard. Susan was delighted, she loved free essays, where she was not forced to analyse some inane text or steamy poem. But then Inger hung the photo and Susan's heart sank. A town! A big town even, as seen from above. Skyscrapers and streets, not a tree or a bird in sight. It was taken from high up, so high up that it gave Susan a funny feeling in her stomach just watching it.
  If I have to write about this photo, I'll have to imagine I'm some kind of bird, Susan thought. A plane would be about to crash, being so close to the building, and I can't stand the idea of somebody standing on the edge of an even taller building to take this photo. A bird it is! Susan took her notebook and a pencil and began writing.

157 words.

Tillykke Jomfru Maria -- Happy Birthday Mother Mary

Vor Frue af Sydkorset -- Our Lady of the Southern Cross

mandag den 6. september 2021

Poetry Monday :: Shoes

If you want to read some more, and better  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 slowly returning to blogging after her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way. And dare we hope that she will join Poetry Monday again.

-- 👞👠 -- 👟🥿 -- 🥾👢 -- 

This Mondays topic is Shoes*.This is a topic I suspect everyone to have somthing to say about, but making it into a poem is entirely another matter. It turned into a qrazy nonsense verse.

The shoe
Says boo
And runs away.
I guess
I have
No more to say.

 - - - - -

Upcoming topics:
Defy Superstition Day (September 13) Also from Mimi
Remembering 8-Tracks (September 20) Another from Mimi
Ask a Stupid Question (September 27)
Golf (October 4)
Throw a Party (October 11)
Meatloaf Appreciation (October 18)
Opera (October 25)

*PS. If - like me - you wonder, the answer is: Yes, we have done shoes before. Shoes

onsdag den 1. september 2021

Words for Wednesday - September First

  All September, and so also today, the first day and Wednesday of September, the prompts are given by Cindy at Of Dandelions and Sunshine.
  The prompt for today is a challenge: "They say a picture is worth 1,000 words.   Paint us a picture with at least 100 words of your favourite vacation spot."

  Could you - given this prompt - imagine me going anywhere but back in time to Unicorn Island?
  Remember that the non-magical parts of the tale are memories from my childhood. Susan is/was me, and here is the opening scene of Unicorn Farm, rewritten to suit the prompt.

  The long car ride was over. Susan and her sister and parents were warmly welcomed by their aunt and uncle and all helped carry things from the car into the house. After a hasty and late supper, Susan took her book outside to sit on the terrace. She sat there with the book propped open in her lap and her legs stretched out on the terrace boards, not really reading, only savouring the quiet and open space around her. The stars began popping out in the sky, and with them came the mosquitoes. She hurried into the garage and into bed.

Next morning, after the traditional first morning in the summer house breakfast of pancakes and syrup, Susan and her sister rushed off to see if everything was as it used to be. The summerhouse was totally uninteresting, just a place to eat and sleep between trips to the beach or to the other attractions of the island. 
  The excitement began where the hedges and the yellowing lawn stopped. Out in the corn field that everybody was allowed to play and walk in! You could build intricate complexes in the style of beaver holes, but you could also just go for a walk, picking grains and wild flower bouquets. You could sit quietly hidden, hoping that a rabbit came by. They often raced the rabbits, but the rabbits always won. Or you could just lie on your back and look past the slowly moving ears of corn up on drifting white clouds, that created always new patterns and pictures.
  They played in the grain field, making the almost ritual tunnel from the path down to the water. Then they ran down the path to see if the stairs leading to the water was still there. It was. Solid railroad sleepers curved down towards the shore. They ran down the sleepers loudly counting the steps 29, 30, 31, 32! Yes, they were all there. They first only waded in the water, because the waves were big that day. Big enough to push over a little girl. But after a short while the temptation grew too big. They shed their worn dresses and tumbled in the water. It was wonderful, Susan loved the big waves, it was just fabulous to skip through them, and over them, tumbling like a dolphin.  It was everything as delicious as she had expected, but cold still in the early June days. As they sat drying on the huge, warm boulders  a boat sailed past, loaded with strange looking people in Icelandic sweaters and with looking glasses around the neck.
  "It's probably the ornithologists, our aunt talked about," Susan said, feeling relieved to have remembered the strange word.
"Oy," her sister replied, "why do yo always have to use all those big words. It's just a boat full of bird watchers." Susan resisted the temptation to answer that she had read it in a book somewhere, partly because it was not true, partly because she did not want to start the holiday with a quarrel.
  After having dried somewhat at the large stones, they went looking for belemnites in the rubble below the cliffs. Today her sister was the lucky one lucky and  found the first one, but a little later Susan found a petrified sea urchin half hidden in a stone. They agreed to go home again, it would soon be time for lunch. So they raced one another on the paths back to the summerhouse.

580 words.

tirsdag den 31. august 2021

Kontantbevægelsen "Kontanter eller Kontrol"

A Danish-only rant. Asking people to go on using cash as the banks and so on are trying to abolish those - in order to make payment, cheaper, safer and more controllable. Also a rant on forced digitalisation.

-- 👁 --

 Vi opfordres til at bruge kortbetaling af bankerne. Fordi der er billigere, sikrere og mindre udsat for tyveri. Men tænk på alle de ting, der er afhængige af kontanter, eller vel snarere af mangel på kontrol.

Vil vi fortsat have
- loppemarkeder?
- stalddørssalg?
- børn, der køber blandet slik?
- muligheden for at stikke naboen en tyver for en bakke jordbær?
- muligheden for at give penge til et formål, vi ikke nødvendigvis vil have alle ved, vi støtter?
- lov til at købe det, vi har lyst til i butikkerne?
- og mange andre ting.
Så er det nu, vi skal bruge vores kontanter.

-- 👁 --

    Det er nemlig sådan, at alle de penge, der går ud og ind af vores konti via et kort eller MobilePay kan spores. Man kan se, hvem vi har overført penge til, og hvem der har overført penge til os; man kan se ikke kun hvor og hvornår, vi har købt ind, men også hvad vi har købt.
    Det giver måske god mening med digitale bon'er til dyre ting, hvor den digitale bon også gælder som garantibevis, men hvad med de daglige indkøb?
Kan I se, butikken ved, præcis hvad, jeg har købt. Det ville de ikke vide, hvis jeg havde brugt kontanter.

Får vi mon snart en SMS med for eksempel: "Du har købt for meget sødmælk, slik, smør, tobak, sprut, kød  ... eller for lidt grønt, bønner, mejeriprodukter, kartofler,  Fair Trade, nøglehulsmærket, dansk  ... "
Ligesom vi får den der med: "Pas på oversvønmmelser og tjek dine tagrender, det bliver snart regnvejr!"

    Hvad med alle små-indtægter fra salg af ting på den blå avis, til naboen, på markedet ... tror I de bliver ved med at undslippe beskatning?
    Principielt er alt skattepligtigt fra den først tjente krone. og jeg ved 100 % at jeg ikke står på markedet med mine hjemmelavede ting, mine overskydende bær og så videre, i det øjeblik, det bliver beskattet. Så skal jeg til at bevise mine udgifter, føre regnskab osv. Det vil sige en mangedobling af bøvlet og en halvering af indtægten.
    Det er ikke en utopi. Banken har allerede en gang spurgt, om jeg ikke havde så mange små indtægter, at jeg burde overveje en erhvervs-MobilePay. Sådan én koster naturligvis penge - og giver nok også oplysningerne videre til skattefar ...

-- 👁 -- 🕵 -- 👁 --

Noget lidt andet er, at vi jo bliver overvåget. Vi behøver ikke microchips fra corona-vaccinen til at holde øje med os 😉 nææh, det klarer vi udmærket selv i forvejen.
    Her tænker jeg ikke på de overvågningskameraer, der bliver stadigt flere af, nej jeg tænker på vores mobiltelefoner, hvor vi logger ind på instagram, facebook, snapchat og så videre, lægger billeder op, deler vore oplevelser og fortæller hvor vi er. Jeg tænker på Rejsekortet, Dankortet, GPS'en i bilen ... 
    Hvis nogen vil vide hvor vi er, eller har været, er det superlet at finde ud af.

     Det minder mig pludselig om en novelle vi læste i skolen: Du fährst zu oft nach Heidelberg af Heirich Böll. (Handlingsreferat fra Wikipedia: Helten, der ellers er eksemplarisk i enhver henseende, ville være ustoppelig i sin professionelle karriere, hvis han ikke lige havde en svaghed. Han rejser for ofte til Heidelberg og tager sig af eksil-chilenere på universitetet der). 

     Så er der al tvangs-digitaliseringen, og det deraf følgende faldende serviceniveau i samfundet, for eksempel på den offentlige transport - men det er en helt anden historie ... eller er det?

-- 👁 --

Og nu jeg fik skrevet alt det her og endelig skulle til at trykke på "Udgiv" så fandt jeg både Bevar Kontanter og Analogiseringsstyrelsen  De siger det samme, bare bedre og mere velunderbygget!


mandag den 30. august 2021

Poetry Monday :: Monsters

If you want to read some more, and better  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 slowly returning to blogging after her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way. And dare we hope that she will join Poetry Monday again.

-- 👾 -- 👻 -- 👽 -- 👿 -- 

This Mondays topic is Monsters. Have you taken a peep under your bed recently?


Monsters big and monsters small
Live under my bed and scare us all!
A scull, an alien and an imp
Walks with a lisp, talks with a limp.

Monsters big and monsters small
At least you must admire their gall
Ogre, gremlin, screaming man
Run away while you still can!

Monsters small and monsters big
Bald one with a purple wig,
Masks from countries far away:
I wish at home that they'd stay.

Monsters small and monsters big
Winged kittens, snouted pig.
If an arm or toe stick out
They'll sniff it with their purple snout.

Monsters big and monsters small
They will prance and climb and crawl
From the shadows underneath
Armed with fang and claw and teeth

Monsters big and monsters small
Will devour me, bed and all
And when soon a new day dawns
Mum  regrets what she has done.

Monsters big and monsters small
Only light can scare them all.
Mummy made me turn it out
Soon I'll be no more about.


--  👺  --  👤  --  👹  --

Upcoming topics:
Shoes (September 6) From Mimi
Defy Superstition Day (September 13) Also from Mimi
Remembering 8-Tracks (September 20) Another from Mimi

lørdag den 28. august 2021

WfW August 25 -- The Second Set of Words.

I still have the last set of  five words left over form the Words for Wednesday. They are:

    Strident
    Copious
    Salient
    Temerity
    Euphemism

And I had an idea. How far do you have to read before you recognize this story?



Mom''s voice was turning strident: "Susan! How many times have I told you not to let that rabbit out of the cage?"

"I did not let him out, Mom," Susan answered. I think the lock is getting worn, he just escaped." Susan grasped a carrot and went down on both knees beside the sofa: "Come out here, Rabbity-dear," She sang softly. "I have copious amounts of carrots, but you're not getting any if you do not get out now."

Susan's dad came into the living room. "Lilly," he said, "it's time to leave, the two boys are already standing ready at the door, they can't get to my mother's new place soon enough."

"We can't leave now," Lilly answered, "Susan has let the rabbit loose, or maybe the lock was worn, anyhow. The salient point is, that the dastardly rabbit sits under the sofa, and we can't leave until Susan gets him back into his cage again." Lilly looked at Susan kneeling at the couch, "And she's trying to reason with the rabbit once again. It'll take all day I fear. May I have the temerity to suggest that you go ahead with Sam and Ben in your car, then I and Susan follow later, when the rabbit is once again behind bars?" Lilly continued.

"Saying that this is a splendid solution might be an euphemism," Henning said, "but given the circumstances it's probably the best we can do." He gave Lilly a sound hug and a kiss, and patted Susan's head. "Do catch that naughty rabbit fast, Susan. Grandmother wants to see all of us."

"I want to see her and her new house, and granddad too, Susan said, "But Rabbity has to be safe. I'd hate if something happened to him while we were away." Dad nodded and hurried out of the door, they could all hear Ben and Sam quarrelling in the hallway.

"OK, Susan, you have an hour. If Rabbitty is not inside the cage we'll just have to leave him be. Do you need my help, or can I go and have an extra cup of coffee?" Susan's Mom asked.
"I'll holler if I need your help, Mom. Right now I just want to make him understand that if he does not get out, he'll get no carrots for a very long time!"

"Susan," Lilly said while shaking her head. "Rabbitty is a smart and sweet rabbit, but he does not understand what you say, it's no use pretending. But I'll leave you to it. Good luck!" Susan's Mom left the door slightly ajar. Not enough for a rabbit to get through, but enough for her to hear Susan should she call for help.

"You do understand me, don't you, Rabbitty?" Susan asked softly. She could see the rabbit under the couch. Of course squarely in the middle, where even dad's long arms could not reach him. She opened the cage, and placed the biggest, crunchiest carrot inside it. "Now you listen, Rabbitty. Do you see that carrot in the cage? That's for you. And tomorrow you get another one, and the next day. Big, juicy crunchy carrots," she broke one with a sound to prove her promises, "but only if you get into that cage now. If I have to get the broom and make Mom sweep you out again, then no more carrots for a long, long time. Maybe forever." Susan held the carrot in her hand and extended her arm as far as it went under the couch. She felt the rabbit's resistance wavering. "Oh, come now ..." she said softly. " come Rabbitty, be a smart rabbit and have carrots, come into the cage, come now!" And slowly she pulled the carrot towards the cage, the rabbit's nose twitching and twisting at the tantalizing smell. Susan kept on moving the carrot and the rabbit followed along until it finally was inside the cage. "Good Rabbitty, sweet  boy, Here's the carrot I promised you. Thank you for listening."

Susan closed the door, and carried the cage into the kitchen. "Mom, I got him!" she said. "Would you mind looking at the lock?"
Lilly twisted and turned the lock, but could not make it catch. "You're right,Susan, it's broken. Hold onto it while I get some steel wire to tie it shut."

***

If you have not found out, it is this chapter from Birch Manor, but seen from Little Susan's point of view.