Poetry Monday :: Contrast (Blogtober 13)

Kontrast ... det kan man sikkert spinde en ende over. Men det her digt, vel en slags taledigt eller rap, opstod nærmest af sig selv i mit hoved i går morges.

For flere år siden skrev jeg en "Omvendt bucket list" over hvad jeg allerede havde gjort, og en af dem var: "spille guitar i et country band". Vi sang også moderne protestsange og ballader. Den tid kom tilbag til mig, da dette vers dukkede op i går; det kunne vi godt have sunget ved en eller anden demonstration dengang.
     Verset har ikke vildt meget med kontrast at gøre - kun måske mellem hvordan vi synes verden burde være, og hvordan den faktisk er nu?

Lad os prise, lad os takke vores færdselsbetjent,
vi kan faktisk heller ikke være andet bekendt.
Han fik smadret sit knæ
og bankede ind i et træ,
men han stopped' idioten - en i forvejen kendt

Og nu ligger han og lider på et hospital,
mens "den  kendte" - idioten, som er bindegal
smadrer sin detention
og koster en million.
Hvordan pokker går det til at den her slutning er normal?

 -- A  --  B  --  C --

Contrast ... you could probably spin a tale here. But this poem, more like a kind of rhythmically spoken lines or rap, just popped into my head yesterday morning.

A few years ago, I wrote a ‘Reverse Bucket List’ of things I'd already done, and one of them was: ‘Played guitar in a country band’. We also sang modern protest songs and ballads. That time came back to me with this verse yesterday morning; we could have recited it at some demonstration back then.
The verse doesn't have much to do with contrast – perhaps between how we think the world should be and how it is now?

Let us give to our traffic cop the praise that we own
Yes you have to do it - and if not you're made of stone
He smashed up his knee
and crashed into a tree,
but he stopped the drunken driver - who was previously known.

And now he's lying in an ICU,
while ‘the known one’ - the DUI - completely blew
smashes up his humble cell
costs a million and a bell.
How on earth did we end up with an ending this askew?


- - - - - -  - Coming Themes  - - - - - - - -

taken from the 365 Days of Drawing Prompts and other Arts group.

Oct 20 Side profile of a person
Oct 27 Journey between stars
Nov 3 Funeral
Nov 10 Dismembered
Nov 17 In a cave
Nov 24 Pot of tea for two

Words for Wednesday ~ August 13

Word for Wednesday is a challenge that was started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable event with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words 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.

In August, Mimi of MessyMimi's Meanderings will supply us with prompts.

 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 - - 

This Wednesday's prompts:
Easy
Student
Invasion
Encourage
Housing
Spectrum
        and/or the following archaic words
Gaud -- a trinket
Moil -- drudgery
Pore on -- think about, dwell on thoughtfully

Biking home today I got this idea for a story. Unfortunately only one of the archaic words  fit, but as we always say: "Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them", I feel good to go.

A Saturday in the early summer just before the summer holidays. Or in other words towards the end of the first year on Unicorn Farm.

Susan sat on the garden swing when mom and dad returned from shopping. They looked at her, and mom asked, "But Susan! What happened?"

"It was an accident," Susan began, "and I lost my keys, and my bike is broken something terrible, and I think these pair of pants are only good for the bin."

"But what about you?" Mom asked.

"I'm bruised, and now after sitting, I feel stiff and sore all over, but nothing is broken or even sprained. I could walk home."

"Thank God," mom said, "come in and I'll scrub the wounds."

Susan followed mom into the big bathroom upstairs. Her right arm and leg were bloodied and filled with gravel and dirt.

Mom said: "This is going to hurt, but please remember what aunt Iris always says about scrubbing away the dirt?"

"I do! And her threatening to use a brush if hands are not enough!" Susan said, "I won't promise not to yell at you."

"Yell away," mum said, "but keep still."

Mom scrubbed the wounds with soap, as aunt Iris had taught her, and she even had to use a small brush on Susan's elbow. Susan whimpered and yelled a couple of times. Mom dried the wounds carefully with a clean towel, and put a band aid over the worst of them. "Now they're all clean at least, and you will mend. Luckily none of those need stitches."

"Phew!" Susan said, "I feel lucky after all."

When they came downstairs again, Dad had made coffee, and asked Susan to please tell what happened.

"I had been to the woods, as I told you this morning," Susan began.

What she did not tell was that she had been practising growing and plant mending spells in the woods - it was homework, and Thora had told that these spells would be allowed during the week.

"I was on my way home on my bike, when I saw a giant viper on the road just in front of me. It had that zig-zag pattern down its back and it was poised to strike. I could no way avoid it so I pulled up my legs as fast and far as I could. The wheels must have been hot from my hurrying home, because it went for my front tyre. It bit into it so violently that the tube tore, almost exploding, and having my legs up and all and running over the viper ... it threw me and the bike and the viper all together in one big mess.The viper was quite limp, I suppose it died. The bike was punctured and broken, and I was bleeding all over. I sat down and cried."

Susan took a sip of her coffee and continued: "But then I realised that I could not just sit there. Crying would not mend my bike or revive the viper. I don't know which made me more sad ... and I was growing sore and stiff. I tried walking with my bike, but it was too heavy, my arm and leg hurt, and the tube and tyre grated against the mudguard all the time. I could not walk it home."

Susan was again not telling the whole truth. She had pored on mending the bike and herself with magic, but she dared not run the risk of being expelled from Unicorn Farm.

"So in the end I stood my bike against a fence and locked it, then I walked home and discovered that I had lost my key out there too."

"What a luck the viper did not get you," mum said, "and are you sure it was a viper? They are not normally found here. Now at the place where you werre born, there were many vipers, and mice and one day a mouse even ... "

"Drink up your coffee and get into the van," dad interrupted. It was an old story. Mom had told it many times. "There's room for a bike and more in there, and I think that's a job for the mechanic. If we're lucky we can get there before he closes down for today."

"Sounds like a grand plan," mom said. "Susan, when do you need your bike again?"

"Need it," Susan said, "not until Thursday, when we have tennis lessons in the old sports place, but I'd like to have it back Wednesday after school, as we - me and some of the girls from school - planned a trip to the beach."

"That should be doable," dad said. "I know a  mechanic, who's good and fast. Get aboard!"

Susan climbed into the van, not without some moaning, the band aids stuck, and she had turned even more stiff and sore.

Susan told dad the way, and they found the bike still standing against the fence in its sad state. Dad searched for Susan's keys, but all he found was the viper, it really was a viper and a huge one for a viper 75 cm from snout to tail, and it's neck was broken. Dad loaded it, and the bike, in the behind of the van and drove very fast until they were again back in town.

"Just stay here, Susan," dad said. "I'll hand in your bike and be back in no time."

"Thanks, dad," Susan said and happily stayed in the van, not savouring the climb up and down once again, and dozed until dad returned and they headed for home.

Words for Wednesday ~ 25.12.2024

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 December are provided by Wisewebwoman 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 - - 

This week's prompts are:
Wreath
Pine
Ribbon
Stealth
Chimney
    and/or
Toboggan
Wolf
Plum pudding
Ambience
Blizzard

A chapter from January of the third and last year of the Unicorn Farm, The darkness is gathering.

Susan woke with a start, she looked around, a wreath made of pine stood on the table, its purple ribbons trailing almost to the floor. Why had it been left behind when she and Mom put away all the Christmas things yesterday after school? Now it was Saturday, and she had fallen asleep waiting for her parents to return home from somewhere. And then the snow had begun. She had dreamt, something about Unicorn Farm, some of the Nisser there were in grave danger. Now stealth was of importance. Could she use the 'phone? No, she dared not, it would probably alarm Ms. Madsen, the old, cranky neighbour, whom Mom had called in to watch over them while she and dad were away doing ... Susan just plain did not remember, the urgent dream had drowned out most of here every day life.
She tip toed to the chimney. It was cold as only cold stone could be. Where was Ms. Madsen, the neighbour? In the kitchen, Susan realized, probably drinking coffee and telling Linda all the latest gossip. Susan tensed and listened. A murmur of voices from the kitchen confirmed her suspicion.
She sneaked into the corridor, found her socks, shoes and winter things, then she went down into the basement. It was always more or less spooky down there, but in the deep of winter, it was dark. She dressed while waiting for the old boiler to start. It did so soon enough and this close it sounded like a thousand ping pong balls were being boiled inside. Susan found her old toboggan and opened the largest of the window on the garden side of the house. She pushed out the toboggan, then followed herself. She had no idea why she brought it, it just seemed like a good idea. And her parents were sure nobody could get in or out through the basement windows, but Susan still could do it - even dressed in her winter coat.
She ran through the dancing snow to the old lumber yard, there she tied the toboggan to a tree and jumped through the portal. When the world stopped spinning, she opened her eyes again and was relieved to see the old, crude furniture of the storage room at the Unicorn Farm. For a moment she just stood there, happy too have arrived in one piece.The room she ended up in, was warm and quiet, the old furniture still in place, but outside she could hear voices, many voices, small and big, raising and falling. She went to the window and looked out. The snow had stopped, it had not snowed as much here as  at home, but everything was still covered in a heavy layer, and a full moon shone eerily through the hurrying clouds. She went to the door leading to the big kitchen manned by the Nisser and listened once again.
Someone were cussing loudly, and screaming at the Nisser. She opened the door, just a crack, wand ready. For a short while she was blinded by the light in the kitchen, then she saw that four or five men dressed in black were trying to catch the Nisser and put them into big sacks held by two other men at the entrance to the kitchen. The Nisser of course fought back, and it all made so much noise, Susan wondered why the professors were not already alarmed.
Fire, Susan thought. I have to make a lot of fire. It will scare off the black men, and call the professors, but fast. She pointed her wand at the curtains and whispered "Kveikiði". At once a small flame began eating away at the curtains in the kitchen. Soon they blazed and the black clad men stopped their fighting with the Nisser and instead began screaming and babbling at the fires, but to no avail. The lamps suddenly extinguished and the only light in the kitchen came from the full moon outside. The men scurried away from the moonshine, but one of them were caught in it and started changing ... they were Werewolves! Susan was afraid. This time she had no granny and no potion to make them normal people again. She had only the Nisser, and she hoped the professors would soon arrive. The door in the other end of the kitchen opened and the professors came running in, toppling the two sack-holding scums by the door, Susan saw Tähti and Taavi point their wand at the werewolves and chant something in Finnish, Silvery filaments shot through the air and tied up the black men and the one changed into a wolf too. She saw one of the Nisser throw a crate of plum pudding after a black man, that had avoided the silvery filaments, and were trying to escape. The ambience of the room changed from chaos and fight to one of revenge. Susan crept back and carefully closed the door. Mission accomplished. Back in Elsinore she was met by the results of a full blizzard, Slowly she crept to the tree and loosened the toboggan. It was downhill all the way home.

Words for Wednesday ~ December 18

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 December are provided by Wisewebwoman 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 - - 

This week's prompts are:
    Ravioli
    Serenity
    Marble
    Bridge
    Soccer
          and/or
    Foliage
    Nepotism
    Lectern
    Lantern
    Gorgonzola

Yet another story from Susan's everyday life. I did not use all the words. The story is all true, but the parts happened over several visits to this Pizzeria, which was one of the first to open in Denmark in the 70es, and a great place.

After school Susan and her classmates stood outside the gate.
"Have you heard about the new, Italian restaurant that has opened down at the market square?" Petra asked.
Susan was all ears. Ever since she had been to Italy last summer, her taste buds had been longing for Italian food.
Mette, the high blonde all the others looked to for lead was for once at a loss for words. She was normally the first to hear such news.
Luckily their young English teacher choose this very moment to greet them: "Well, hello my favourite pupils," she began. As she greeted all her classes with these words, none felt anything special about it any more. "Tomorrow is the last day before our holidays, I feel rich, and I want to treat you all to a pizza or something at the new place before it gets overrun. What do you say?" Those last words were unnecessary, as the happy noises from the girls could be heard across the street, shattering the serenity of an old man studying the marble obelisk commemorating the reunification of 1920.

The class had never been as well-prepared for their English lessons as they were next day. When the lessons had ended they all walked to the market square.
They sat at a big table, Anne noted what all the girls would like. Two did not like pizza at all, and wanted to try ravioli after finding out that it was something like filled spaghetti. Most wanted Pizza quattro stagioni with ham and mushrooms, and a few adventurous, among them Anne, choose a pizza capricciosa with artichokes and olives.
Susan studied the menu for a while. Then she found it. "How confusing," she said. "In Rome this pizza was called Pizza napoletana, here it's a Pizza romana. But at least that's what I would like."
"It has anchovises on it, eww," Petra said.
"You seem to agree with most other people," Susan said smiling, "I happen to detest olives and love anchovies. When we were in Rome, I asked for this pizza, and the waiter asked me several times if it really was what I meant, and the kitchen staff stood in the back of the restaurant, looking at this young straniera, eating anchovies on her pizza. My dad told me after we left. I'm happy I did not see it myself. I would have died."

Anne went to the counter and ordered, or at least tried to. After talking to the young man behind the counter, writing and discussing for several minutes she returned: "Susan, how much Italian did you learn on that holiday? I can't make him understand that we want 10 pizzas, not 12 and then two portions of ravioli."
"I can try," Susan said, "as you know, I am a language nerd, and we were in Italy for three weeks. At least I know the numbers."
Susan went to the counter, took Anne's notes and slowly asked for "Due ravioli, per favore," The young man smiled encouragingly at her and she continued. "E dieci pizze. Una Romana, tre Capricciose e sei Quattro stagione."
"Brava!" the young man said and smiled broadly. This made him look younger, even more like a boy, and Susan suspected he might be younger than they were. "E per bevere?"
"What would we drink?" Susan translated without thinking. "Did you think of this, Anne, isn't it mighty expensive?"
"You can all have one soft drink," Anne said, loud enough for everybody to hear it, "And then it's water for the rest of the meal."
Susan tried her hand at translating this: "Acqua per tutti e una bottiglia di err ... hmm ... I don't know soft drink in Italian."
But the young man understood: "Acqua, e una bibita per cada una. Sì, ho capito. Sedetevi, ed io vengo con tutto."
"We sit, he brings," Susan half guessed, and he nodded vigorously.
Waiting for the pizzas they talked about the coming exams, parents and holiday plans. Susan stopped listening and her attention drifted to one of the wall paintings. It was an old bridge, almost hidden by foliage, in a sun drenched, Italian landscape. Susan felt that she should know that place, but she was not up to showing more off by asking about it. She decided to save for a return.
The pizzas were fabulous, and surprisingly eaten to the very last bite of the crust.

And here the story ends. I ran out of steam, and only used half of the words. No promises, but maybe more will come off this - there is an Italian connexion in all the sorcery and witchcraft.

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 :: February 14th

Uh-oh, I'm terribly late, but today the sun is shining, Yippie, and I feel better than the meh! I've been feeling lately from the cold. I had my yummy tea and breakfast, and woo, writing happened.

Now I already used all of the Words given us by Lissa which are:
1. meh
2. woo
3. yum
4. uh-oh
5. yippee

But I won't cheat you out of the story I actually wrote for today. A long time ago - back in March 2019 - I began writing of a weekend filled with Snow Magic (or you can read the whole chapter here). That is, all I ever got to write was Friday evening and most of Saturday. The beginning of Sunday is here, and I hope for more to come. As I've said a few times before -- maybe a hundred or thereabout -- I'm good at beginning, but no as good with endings. Here's to hoping.

Susan woke up in the semi dark even before the alarm clock rang with a happy feeling. Today was Sunday, she was at the Magician's house at Unicorn isle. The weather was still meh, but today she knew better than to agonize and worry over this, Tage and Lis would see them safely to the Unicorn farm via a teleport. Woo, they would not have to fight their way through the snowdrifts with the heavy sleet biting their cheeks.
Quickly she dressed in the cold, awakening Heidi in her bed near the window. "Morning, Susan," she whispered.
"Morning, Heidi," Susan whispered back. "What time is it?"
"Only half past seven," Heidi answered sleepily. "Time to dress an so on before mom's breakfast is ready."
"Yum," Susan said. "I love your mum's breakfast."
"It's even better on Sundays," Heidi replied,  "just you wait and see." She rose and stretched and began dressing. Uh-oh," she exclaimed, There's a hole in my sweater. Old aunt Margit knit it for me, and  I really like it. Bugger, Mom will be sad as well."
"If your Aunt Margit knit it for you, I'm sure she knew you," Susan said with a teasing smile, " ... and if, I'm sure there's a small ball of yarn somewhere for repairs."
"There is," Heidi admitted, it is in my sewing basket, but I'm not good at repairs."
"I am," Susan said. "Sewing, that is mostly repairing holes and zippers, are the only textile skills I'm good at. My knitting is terrible, and my crocheting worse. I drove my teacher and a class mate to despair trying to teach me granny squares. I ended up having woodworking with the boys! But I see the meaning in good repairs. Hand me the thread and a needle. I'll get it done before breakfast."
Yippie! You're a hero, Susan. Here, catch!"  Heidi threw the sweater at Susan.

Words for Wednesday :: Travel Log ~ 2 ~ Rejseberetning

This challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words 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.

-- ☭ --

The prompts for every Wednesday in January are provided by Elephant's Child, and made public at her blog.

For today we had these words:

Destined
Remarkable
Lure
Aware
Rules


And this picture she took at a Hyper Real exhibition in Canberra.

The picture reminds me of many of the despondent women, I met in the countries behind the Iron Curtain. I did not use any of the words, so I have an excuse for writing more.
This is a continuation of Travel Log 1  We're still in Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia and Hungary. Our bus had broken down, and we were slowly travelling through said countries and Greece bound for Turkey and eventually through Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan to India.

We had to talk to people as part of our research. This was made difficult by the fact that only older people - specifically those who had completed primary school before 1945 - could speak anything other than Russian and their mother tongue. The 'old ones', roughly our parents' generation and upwards, spoke excellent German, many adequate French, and only a few English at a level that allowed for conversations on more than basic topics. 

In our studies before travelling, we had read that there was no unemployment behind the Iron Curtain, that people ate well and that children and young ones were well educated and everybody worked for a brighter future.

I couldn't really reconcile this with the queues at the soup kitchens, the lack of goods in the shops and much more.

For example, a lady on the train - she could very well have been a sister to the one in today's picture -  asked if we were from West Germany. After we explained that we were from Denmark, but that it looked a lot like West Germany, she asked us to come back and bring her knitting needles and crochet hooks. We had to promise to try before she let us go.

While we waited for the bus to be repaired, we were distributed to the other buses. We went shopping. As I said, we didn't know the language, so when we saw a queue we linede up - same as everybody else, but without being able to ask for what was available in the shop at the end of the queue. After queuing for umbrellas and fake wool suits, we learnt to send one up ahead and look what kind of shop it was.

Once inside the store, we queued up again. First in one queue to place our order and get a note with the price, then in another queue to pay and get the note endorsed, and then in a final one where we handed in the note and got the wrapped item. Guaranteed full employment, sure, but what a waste of time.

We also stayed at a cheap hotel for a few days while we waited. The reception desk looked like nothing I would ever let my guests see; half-dead weeping figs that should have seen some care the day before yesterday, the carpets were stained, and in the dining room the curtains were askew, and not able to bu pulled either way because the rods had come loose. We asked if they should be repaired, but were told that complaints were to be be written in the complaint book. We looked and saw that guests had been writing complaints about the curtain rods for at least three years.

The system in the dining room was also a story in itself. Behind a counter sat a lady, responsible for  signing our meal tickets before we could eat, but she was doing crossword puzzles or filing her nails or reading, and it could last a long time before she bothered to attend to us.

We wondered and puzzled over all this - remember we were told we were going to see a workers' paradise - but slowly we realised that the hotel, the shops and everything were state-owned, not just the farms and the land. That is, the people who worked didn't feel responsible, they had no incentive to being energetic, nice, service-minded or anything else. Just like the grocer-couple with their sauna told us. Everybody were paid their wages, no matter what, and they didn't get more if they did better, and they did not get fired either, except when criticising the system. All tips were also collected and went to the government, or maybe some fund. We saw the exact same thing happening on our researches in agricultural places and in factories. People did the bare minimum; things that broke were not repaired or were repaired poorly; and in general, no one cared about making things better. I think the yields of the highly industrialised Czechoslovakian farms were pretty much the same as in pre-industrial Denmark.  

We ended up adding a rather critical verse to our Red Star over Czechoslovakia song for our presentation. It earned us more points than we expected.

    Hang the red flag on the school building,
    Put the star of communism into our culture.
    Everyone keeps cadence, just like Franklin Bean*.
    Paper still can bend, but the system is rigid.

We sang a lot o this journey. Songs written by others and songs we made up ourselves. We made up songs like Tyrkie ingrediensi songasi (Mock Turkish meaning Turkish ingredients song), and We roll down the mountains, The Flea Song and then we sang The Bus Song - probably the most romantic and materialistic tribute to the life in a bus:
    One engine throbbing, six pistons beating,
    six tyres against dusty tarmac.
    In time with the farmers' goats and sheep,
    is it a world set apart?

(I'm sorry for once again giving only a word-for-word translation of the songs, and not making them into poetry)

- - - - - - -
* Refers to the 1990 Eponymous movie Wikipedia

-- ☭ --

    Vi skulle tale med folk som en del af vore undersøgelser. Det blev besværliggjort af at det kun var ældre mennesker - helt nøjagtigt dem, der havde afsluttet folkeskolen før 1945 - der kunne tale andet end russisk og deres modersmål. De 'gamle', groft regnet vores forældres generation og opefter, talte fremragende tysk, nogle hæderligt fransk, og et fåtal engelsk på et niveau der muliggjorde samtaler om andet end helt basale emner.  

    I vores studier havde vi læst, at der ikke var arbejdsløshed bag jerntæppet, at folk spiste godt, at børn og unde fik en førsteklasses undervisning, og at alle arbejdede  sammen for en lysere fremtid.
    Det kunne jeg i hvert fald ikke rigtig få til at passe med køerne til suppekøkkenerne, med det manglende udbud af varer i butikkerne og meget andet.
    For eksemplel var der en dame i toget, der spurgte, om vi kom fra Vesttyskland. Da vi havde forklaret, at vi kom fra Danmark, men at det lignede Vesttyskland, bad hun os om at komme igen, og tage strikkepinde og hæklenåle med til hende. Vi måtte love at forsøge, før hun slap os.
    Mens vi ventede på at bussen blev repareret, blev vi fordelt i de andre busser. Vi gik på indkøb. Vi kunne som sagt ikke sproget, så når vi så en kø, stillede vi bare op - lige som alle de andre gjorde det, men uden at kunne spørge, hvad der var at få i butikken for enden af køen. Efter at have stået i kø efter paraplyer og habitter af celluld lærte vi at sende en op og kigge efter hvad det var for en butik.
    Inde i butikken stod vi så i kø igen. Først i én kø for at afgive bestilling og få en seddel med prisen, så i en anden kø for at betale og få seddelen påtegnet, og så i en sidste, hvor vi afleverede seddelen og fik den indpakkede vare. Garanti for fuld beskæftigelse, javist, men sikke et spild af tid.
    Vi boede også nogle dage på et billigt hotel, mens vi ventede. Receptionen lignede noget, der var løgn, halvdøde stuebirke, der burde være vandet allersenest i forgårs, gulvtæpperne var plettede, og i spisesalen hang gardinerne og dinglede, fordi stængerne ikke sad fast. Vi spurgte, om de ikke skulle repareres, men fik at vide, at klager skulle skrives i klagebogen. Der kunne vi så se, at der var blevet klaget over de hængende gardiner i hvert fald de sidste tre år.
    Systemet i spisesalen var også et kapitel for sig. Der sad en dame, der skulle påtegne vores spisebilletter, før vi kunne få mad, men hun sad og løste krydsord, eller filede negle eller læste, og det kunne vare endog meget længe, før hun gad tage sig af os. Vi undrede os, men langsomt gik det op for os, at hotellet, og butikkerne og i det hele taget alt var statsligt, ikke kun landbrugene og jorden. Det vil sige, at dem der arbejdede, ikke følte at de fik noget ud af at være energiske, flinke, servicemindede eller noget som helst. De fik deres løn, lige meget hvad, og de fik ikke mere hvis de gjorde det bedre. Alle drikkepenge blev også indsamlet og gik til staten, eller en eller anden fond, tror jeg. Det helt samme så vi gentage sig på undersøgelser i landbruget og på fabrikker. Folk gjorde det absolutte minimum; ting, der gik i stykker, blev ikke eller kun nødtørftigt repareret, og i det hele taget var alle totalt ligeglade med at gøre det bedre. Jeg tror udbyttet af de højt industrialiserede tjekkoslovakiske landbrug var stort set som i det før-industrielle Danmark.   

Det endte med at vi lavede et temmelig systemkritisk vers til vores Rød stjerne over Tjekkoslovakiet-sang til fremlæggelsen. Det bragte os flere point end vi havde regnet med.

    Hæng den røde fane op på skolens mur,
    kommunismens stjerne ind i vor kultur.
    Alle taler kun om retning, kæft og trit.
    Papir kan stadig bøjes, systemet er dog stift.

    Vi sang i det hele taget meget. Både sange, andre havde skrevet og hjemmelavede sange. Vi sang "Tyrkie ingrediensi sangasi" (Vrøvle-tyrkisk titel) og "Vi ruller ned af bjergene", "Loppesangen" og "Bussangen" ikke at forglemme - nok den mest romantiske, beton-materialistiske hyldest til livet i en bus (Den har vi ikke selv lavet):
    En motor der banker, seks stempler der slår,
    seks dæk mod den støvede vej.
    I takt med bøndernes geder og får,
    er det mon en verden for sig?

Words for Wednesday :: Travel Log ~ 1 ~ Rejseberetning

Dansk længere nede

This challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words 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.

-- ☭ --

The prompts for every Wednesday in January are provided by Elephant's Child, and made public at her blog.

For today we had these words:

Camel
Bone
Carving
Application
River
     And/or
Journey
Shock
Family
Crown
Colours

Today's writing is a little different than usual. Firstly, it's totally autobiographical, and secondly, there are memories from a not-so-nice time.
I haven't used the words in the order in which they were given, or indeed all of them, as I usually do.
These stories - which I hope to continue over the coming Wednesdays - have been lurking in my head for a long time. And some days ago I realised that most people I know no longer remember the days when the Iron Curtain was a normal part of everyday life. And that many young people have a glorified image of life behind the Iron Curtain.
That's why I've told small sections of this story several times to several different people. Now I had to write it down.

I went to the International High School. The thirst for adventure and the desire to travel were my main motivational factors, and then the atmosphere of belonging, of being safe, and having a place in the bigger sceme of things. These were people you felt you could trust.
     The first time at the school was euphoric, I was finally part of a community, we sang and drank endless amounts of tea. We studied for driver's license together, and as I was one of the first to pass the theroretical part, I continued studying with the others until everyone had passed sometime in October! I memorised the theory, including the difficult part with hydraulics and vacuum brakes.
    There was a "go home" weekend every third weekend. I don't remember much about them, but I do remember the feeling of coming home to school. The guitar music, the songs, and the hot tea in the dining hall after the cold bike ride from the station warmed me to my bones. Even though after a while we were divided into two groups - the ideologues and the rest of us. You had to watch your words when an ideologue was around, so most of the time we sat in small groups with those we trusted around the rooms.
    Fortunately, in my group there weren't many ideologues. There was one of the other groups that was really bad. The worst of us was probably one of my roommates, Anniken. Most of the others were pretty "normal" - and had a thousand different reasons for going there.

    We got our driving licence, read about the countries we were going to visit, brushed up some languages, repaired the buses, packed, and were ready for the big journey. On a sunny day in October, we finally left. We said our goodbyes to parents, siblings and friends who had come to see us off. We travelled through the GDR, Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, Bulgaria, etc. to experience the communist paradise.

It didn't seem very paradisal to me. It was as if the colours of life were gone. In Prague, which was otherwise a beautiful city, there were still bullet holes in the walls from World War II and people were queuing for a meal at the local soup kitchen. We went to the Revolutionary Museum, which was in an old mansion, but we didn't see the Charles Bridge or the Tajn Church or any of the other beautiful things.

What I tell you in this chapter applies to Czechoslovakia, Bulgaria, Hungary, Romania and to some extent Yugoslavia. Czechoslovakia was just the country we spent the most time in, so most of the examples are from there. In Yugoslavia, things were a bit better. People were more optimistic, more active. Tito's manoeuvring between the US and the SSSR gave more wiggle room and thus hope to the people.

Red Star over Czechoslovakia  (a song, we wrote - literal translation)
Czechoslovakia is a country in the east,
we crossed the border, time has turned into autumn,
We croosed beautiful mountains, but then we got no further.
When we reached Prague, our dear bus broke down.

There is a lot of industry in this country.
The farms are big with many big machines ...

As the song tells, one of the buses broke down when we reached Prague and there was a big fuss to get it repaired. The local ČSAD (bus lines - still existing today) workshop was unwilling to lend us any tools to repair it - the bus had broken down right outside the workshop, so it wasn't like we had to go far with the tools. In the end, a West German couple on a family visit ended up helping with the repairs.

While some of our group struggled to repair the bus, the rest of us went on "investigations". That is, we travelled on a local train with wooden seats and were dropped off in small towns along the line in threes. We then had to be at the station again the next day at the same time. My group went to the local grocery store and found a German-speaking, motherly-looking lady who very insistently invited us to the sauna when we started questioning her about political issues and daily life in Bulgaria.

Inside the sauna, she told us that she and her husband had built it themselves, so there were no microphones. And then she went through the system from A to Z. It killed all initiative by cancelling private property rights, it destroyed families with mistrust and espionage. And so on and so forth.

-- ☭ --

Dagens skriverier er noget anderledes end de plejer at være. For det første er det totalt selvbiografisk, for det andet er der minder fra en ikke så vidundelig tid.
Jeg har heller ikke, som jeg plejer, brugt ordene i den rækkefølge, vi har fået dem, eller den alle sammen.
De historier - jeg håber at fortsætte de kommende onsdage - har længe ligget og luret i mit hoved. Og forleden gik det op for mig, at de fleste jeg kender, ikke længere husker den tid hvor jerntæppet var en normal del af hverdagen. Og at mange af de unge har et forherliget billede af livet bag jerntæppet.
Derfor har jeg fortal små afsnit af denne historie flere gange for flere forskellige. Nu måtte jeg så hellere få det skrevet ned.

Jeg tog på Den Internationale Efterskole. Eventyrlysten og udlængselen var de to største faktorer, og så trygheden. Der var folk det føltes som om man kunne stole på. Den første tid på skolen var euforisk, jeg var endelig en del af et fællesskab, vi sang og drak uanede mængder af te hver aften. Vi læste teori sammen, og da jeg bestod som en af de første, læste jeg videre sammen med de andre til alle havde bestået en gang i oktober! Jeg kunne teorien, også den svære del med hydraulik og vacuumbremser udenad.
    Der var hjemrejse-weekend hver tredje weekend. Dem kan jeg ikke huske ret meget fra, men jeg husker følelsen af at komme hjem til skolen. Guitarklangene, sangene - for vi sang virkelig meget - og den varme te i salen efter den kolde cykeltur fra stationen varmede helt ned i tæerne. Også selv om vi efter et stykke tid deltes i to grupper - ideologerne og os andre. Man skulle vogte sine ord, når en ideolog var i nærheden, så for det meste sad vi i små grupper med dem vi stolede på, rundt omkring på værelserne.
    I min gruppe var der heldigvis ikke så mange ideologer. Der var en af de andre grupper, der var virkelig slem. Den værste hos os var nok en af mine værelseskammerater, Anniken. De fleste andre var ret "normale" - og havde 1000 forskellige grunde til at gå der.

    Vi fik taget kørekort, studerede de lande, vi skulle rejse til og lidt sprog, sat busser i stand og pakket. Så var vi klar til den store rejse. En solskinsdag i oktober tog vi så endelig afsted. Vi tog rørende afsked med forældre, søskende og venner der var kommet for at vinke. Vi rejste ned gennem DDR, Tjekkoslovakiet, Jugoslavien, Bulgarien osv, for at opleve det kommunistiske paradis. På mig virkede det nu ikke særligt paradisisk. Det var ligesom farverne i tilværelsen var væk. I Prag, der ellers var en smuk by, var der stadig skudhuller i murene fra 2. verdenskrig og folk stod i kø for at få et måltid i det lokale suppekøkken. Vi var på revolutionsmuseet, der lå i en gammel herskabslejlighed, men vi så ikke Karlsbroen eller Tajn-kirken eller nogen af alle de andre skønne ting.
    Det, jeg fortæller i dette kapitel, gælder for Tjekkoslovakiet, Bulgarien, Ungarn, Rumænien og til dels Jugoslavien. Tjekkoslovakiet var bare det land, vi brugte mest tid i, derfor er de fleste eksempler derfra. I Jugoslavien var det hele lidt bedre. Folk var mere optimistiske, mere aktive. Titos manøvrering mellem USA og SSSR gav mere frihed og dermed håb til befolkningen.

Rød stjerne over Tjekkoslovakiet (en sang, vi skrev)
Tjekkoslovakiet er et land i øst,
vi tog over grænsen, det var blevet høst,
over flotte bjerge, men så var det slut
da vi nåede Prag var motoren kaput.

Her i landet er der meget industri.
Gårdene er store med maskiner i ...

    Som sangen siger, gik en af busserne itu, da vi nåede Prag, og der var stor ståhej med at få den repareret. Det lokale ČSAD-værksted (busselskabet) ville ikke på vilkår låne noget som helst værktøj ud, så vi kunne reparere - bussen var gået i stå lige uden for værkstedet, så det var ikke fordi vi skulle langt væk med værktøjet. Det endte med at et Vesttysk ægtepar på familiebesøg hjalp med reparationerne.
    Mens nogle stykker sled med at reparere bussen, tog vi andre på undersøgelse. Det vil sige at vi tog med et bumletog med træsæder og blev smidt af i små byer langs vejen tre og tre - i treere blev det kaldt. Vi skulle så være på stationen igen næste dag på samme tid. Vi gik til den lokale købmand og fandt der en tysk-talende moderligt udssende dame, der meget insisterende inviterede os i sauna, da vi begyndte at udspørge hende om politiske emner og dagliglvet i Bulgarien.
    Inde i saunaen fortalte hun at den havde hun og hendes mand selv bygget, så der var garanteret ingen mikrofoner. Og så gennemheglede hun ellers systemet fra a til z. Det dræbte al initiativ ved at ophæve ejendomsretten, det ødelagde familierne med mistillid og spionage. Og så videre.

Words for Wednesday ~ September 27

Today is Wednesday. And this means Words for Wednesday!

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.

-- 🇦 -- ⛸ -- 🇧 -- 📰 -- 🇨 -- 

In September River at Drifting through Life is supplying the prompts for Words for Wednesday.

Today's Words:
Frozen
Dollop
Crazy
Bazaar
Bizarre
Belt
    and/or:
Boomerang
Gallon
Running
Newspaper
Calendar
Cakes

I used almost all from the first set (not Bazaar) in the order they were given. And I just continue my story of Susan and the burning Ghost house. 
 
Susan was almost frozen long before the officer returned. She actually considered using her snow magic, as the officer in the driver's seat just sat dozing, But she decided against it. When the first officer finally retuned back the one behind the wheel sat up and asked for Susan's address and turned on the car. The flames were already dying down as they drove past the Ghost House.
At home Susan's parents had dinner ready for her. Cousin Anne had had her parents phone Susan's parents, so no scolding happened. And the praise from the policeman made Susan's cheeks fluster.
A big dollop of ice cream rounded off the dinner nicely.

Next morning Susan slept in. When finally she woke from her crazy dreams of ghosts, fires and labyrinthine houses, the weather had changed. It was cold no more and the fog pressed against the windows. She had been right yesterday had been the last skating day that winter.

She savoured her breakfast, steaming hot tea and honeyed toast. She had no plans for this Saturday, except cleaning and wiping down the skates and hanging them on their hook ready for next year. "Or rather," she thought, "ready to go to the used skate-shop in Helsingborg. My feet will have grown again, and I'll have to accept that I can no longer have a pair of nice, white figure skates, but will have to make do with a pair of black hockey ones. It's a bugger being this big." She cleared the table and then spread papers and brought materials for cleaning and polishing the skates. First she pulled out the long, white laces and gave them a good beating and shaking outside. After cleaning and polishing the blades, she tackled the protectors and put then into place and finally the boots proper. "Tomorrow,"  she said, as much to the skates as to herself, "Tomorrow the skates will have dried out, and I'll  rethread the laces, and tie them into a nice, tight knot. And then, into the cellar you go until next winter," she said. "Thanks for the fun times."

Saturdays meant market, and Susan went there with her mother. It was not big today, and Mum met some of her lady friends and began exchanging news about friends and family. "Mom?" Mom looked at Susan, "I'll go down to the newspaper office and see if there's anything about the fire in today's paper." Mom nodded, and Susan left.
She walked quickly down to the newspaper office. Next to the steps and door leading into the office was a big window. Behind this, today's paper hung like so much laundry on strings fastened with pegs and Susan looked at the pages until she found the story at the bottom of page 13. No photos, only a short mentioning, which did not tell Susan anything she did not know, except for the street number of the Ghost house.
Susan had a bizarre itch to go and see the Ghost house once again.

... to be continued

Words for Wednesday ~ September 20

Yesterday was Wednesday. And this means Words for Wednesday!

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. 

-- 🇦 -- ⛸ -- 🇧 -- 🚲 -- 🇨 -- 

In September River at Drifting through Life is supplying the prompts for Words for Wednesday.

     Today we had either the sentences:
"That's not a good idea."
"I know, but it's the best bad idea I've got."
     and/or these words:
Fire
Rose
Time
Coins
Peanut butter
Shouting

I continue the story from last Wednesday, still no ,magic, and not totally autobiographic either. I am mixing up things happening in different years and places ... Peanut butter just did not fit in. And I did for once not use the Words in their given order.

Cousin Anne and Susan placed their bikes at the end of the long row of bikes.
"By Golly," Anne said. "My lock is broken? Do you think it will be stolen, if I do not lock it?"
"I hope not," Susan said, "what about placing my bike on top of yours? That way a thief at least have to lift off my bike to purloin yours?"
"Purloin? Steal you mean. Where do you get all those fancy words?"
"Sorry. It's a craze on that 4H school at my aunt's place. Just like tongue twisters and exotic languages."
"Right up your street, then!" Anne said, "but back to my bike. Do you think it works?"
"It's not a good idea, but it's the best bad idea I've got!" Susan answered with a straight face. Anne broke down laughing, and Susan lost it too.
When they finally stopped laughing, which was hard, as they began again every time they happened to look at one another, they pulled off their skate guards and joined the other skaters on the ice. 

A good time was had by all, Cousin Anne was a nimble skater, able to skate backwards and make figure eights on the ice. And she did not fall on her behind every time a dog came a bit too close, which some of Susan's classmates were prone to do. Soon the girls and boys from their classes had made a circle around her, egging her on to always more daredevilish stunts. Cousin Anne ended her impropmtu show with a pirouette and going down in a split.
When Anne rose again the lamps turned on and the skaters began an intricate play of chain-tag on the ice. Susan never really grasped the rules, but as she was not very fast either, she was caught too fast for it to matter much anyhow.

Suddenly a small red glow was seen through the trees.
"Fire!" someone yelled.
A lot of the skaters started shouting. "Fire, Fire!" "It's burning." "Call the fire department!"
"It's the Ghost house! It's burning!" Jens yelled. He was one of Susan's classmates.
"Ghost house?" Susan asked, "I did not know we had a ghost house near here."
"Oh yes," Jens answered, "I has been empty for years and years. The windows have been broken, and nobody lives there but old ghosts."
"What now!" Anna said. "None of us live nearby, and we cannot run around to the neighbouring houses in our skates."
"But won't people see the fire and phone the Fire department?" Anne asked.
"I do not think so, no," Jens said. Right now there's sports in the TV, and all fathers sit watching this to see if their team won, or to see if they won a fortune in the pools. The mothers are all cooking, and I guess reading some drivel while waiting for the taters to boil."
Anne began laughing: "Spot on. That's how it looks at home right now."
Susan suddenly remembered her boots: "I brought my boots, I can bike off and run to the nearest house!"
"Do it," Anne, Jens and all the other children said.

Susan skated to where the bikes lay, quickly found her boots in her bag. She changed into the boots and jumped on her bike. As fast as possible, without caring about the bike lamps, she biked around the ice on the slippery paths, down another path and then right. She could not see the fire any more over the trees, but she could still smell it. She turned into the road with the burning ghost house and slowed down a bit. The first two houses just opposite the park were dark, but the next one had light streaming out of the door and the blue glow from a TV set in one of the windows. Susan let her bike fall on the pavement and ran up the long drive to the house. She banged the door knocker, and not long after a man stood in the door. He looked grumpy, dressed in a white A-shirt and his suspenders hanging down.

Susan said: "Sorry to disturb, but the Ghost house is on fire, could you please call the Fire department!"
"Can't do, no phone. Try next door," the man said and almost slammed the door in Susan's face.
Susan left in a hurry, and then she remembered the phone boot. She pedalled as fast as possible past the burning house, where only some smoke could be seen, to the next intersection. The phone booth was unoccupied and Susan jumped inside and closed the door.
Argh! she thought to herself. I have no coins. Then her eye fell on the instructions saying that the Emergency service was free of charge. She lifted the receiver and upon hearing the carrier wave dialled 0 - 0 - 0. She never felt that the dial had been so slow returning all the way back from the zeroes.
"Emergency service, Alan speaking. How can we help," a calm, male voice sounded from the receiver.
"Hello," Susan said. "The ghost house is on fire."
"The Ghost house?  Sorry I need an address."
Susan did not know the number of the ghost house, but she knew the name of the street it was in. This she told the man. "And I'm calling from the telephone booth nearby."
"What is its phone number. It's written in the small window near where you place the coins. Susan looked and told him the number. "Fine. Can I have your  name please?"
"Susan Olsen. Will you come, I can see much more smoke now."
"I'll send the fire brigade, don't you worry. But stay in the booth. I'll call back in a few minutes. And the police would like a word with you as well."
"Oh bother!" Susan said. What's the time?"
"A quarter to seven." Alan answered.
"My parents will ground me if I'm home too late." Susan said, almost crying. "I promised."
"My gyess is that the police will take you home, so I guess you won't have any problems. I'll call back in a few minutes. You can  start listening for the fire engines soon."
Susan hung up and went outside, and sure enough, soon she heard the fire engines from the city. The distance to the fire station was very short as the crows fly, but much longer by the roads, Susan heard the sirens getting further away and then much nearer and then very near. She saw the blue lights through the trees, and went inside the telephone booth to get away from the sound.

The phone rang.
She picked it up and said: "Susan Olsen speaking."
"Hello Susan, It's Alan from the Emergency service once again. I can tell you that the fire engines are already on their way."
"They sure are, I can hear them," Susan said. "Thank you!"
"It's us thanking you," Alan said. "Just stay put, the police will be right over. Bye and good luck."
Susan placed the receiver back on the hook, and shortly she  saw a police car pulling up next to the booth and went outside.
"Susan Olsen?" the officer said.
"Yes that's me." Susan said trembling. "Are you going to arrest me?"
The police officer laughed. "No, I'm not. That is unless you put a match to that old ghost house. Tell me what happened," he said and pulled out notebook and ball pen.
"I was out skating with my classmates and my cousin and some of her classmates too." Susan began, "After it was dark, we played Chain tag, and suddenly someone yelled Fire. We discussed what to do, and Jens - he's my classmate - guessed that none of the neighbours would see the fire, as they were probably watching TV or cooking. I was the only one that had brought my boots, running in skates is difficult, so I biked over here. The first house, I knocked on, they had no phone, but then I remembered seeing this here payphone and went here. And from here I could see no flames, only more and more smoke," Susan ended her story.
The officer asked for and got names and addresses of the class mates. Susan did not know where all of them lived. "I can call the school and ask, if I need it," the officer said, "I have more than enough to check your story should this be necessary."
"Of course there were also some children I do not know on the ice," Susan said despondently.
"No worries. You're not in any way in trouble or going to be arrested or anything. If we were to arrest people for calling 000 don't you think people would quickly stop calling, and accidents would become much worse?" the officer said. "You're doing us, and the city a favour by calling, so please, no need to worry. And I can tell you it's not the house proper burning, but an outhouse behind it. Get into the police car and stay there, we'll drive you home in a short while, and bring your bike too."
Susan got in, and said hello to the officer behind the wheel. Then she sat in the back seat, trying to be inconspicuous. The other officer took her bike, and placed it in a holder at the rear end of the car, then walked over to the ghost house.

... to be continued

Words for Wednesday ~ September 13

Today is Wednesday. And this means Words for Wednesday!

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. 

-- 🇦 -- ⛸ -- 🇧 -- 🚲 -- 🇨 -- 

In September River at Drifting through Life is supplying the prompts for Words for Wednesday.

Today we had these Words:
Threadbare
Season
Disconnected
Everybody
Unusually
Mysteriously
    and/or:
Excrutiating (I took this to mean Excruciating)
Public
Safe
Gained
Roof
Lucky

A winter scenery in Susan's home town, Elsinore, from the first winter Susan is an apprentice witch. Not much magic in here, but if the words are right next Wednesday, something is sure going to happen.
As always the not-magical parts are autobiographical.

The threadbare fabric in Susan's trousers were almost at the breaking point. It was always like this at the end of the winter season. She had been skating and sledding in the great park almost every day. In the short winter days she was in a hurry to make the most of it. As soon as she came home from school, she put on her skates, sweater, mittens and muffler, and then biked to the part of the great park-like area that was flooded each winter. There she just threw her bike next to the lots of other bikes on the brink, pulled off the skate guards and put them on the rack of her bike and had fun on the ice. But soon, far too soon, the lamps turned on, and it was time to bike home. As usual, Susan's bike lamps were not very good, and in the slippery snow her dynamo was of no use,. She disconnected it for faster speed. But as she biked solely along lit up roads and her reflectors were in place, she did not care. At home she ate a few slices of bread with a hot mug of cocoa and did some homework until Mom returned and it was time to clear the table for dinner.

At dinner everybody told of their day. Susan asked Mom and Dad if tomorrow when it was Friday and all her friends were going skating in the park until later, she could be allowed to return home later that four o'clock,
"Oh please, Mom," she said, "all my friends are allowed to stay after the lights have come on tomorrow, most of them have a curfew of seven. And I think it is one of the last skating days this winter. Cousin Anna is also coming. May I stay out too?"
"You may," Mom said, "but if you're not home by seven, you'll  be grounded for the rest of the month."
"Thank you!" Susan said. "I will be home at seven at the very latest."
 "Remember to take along a couple of battery lamps with new batteries in them. Your dynamo is no good in the mash along the roads," Mom said, "and you can take the thermos with hot cocoa along."
"Oh, thank you. I will do. I'll go and find some batteries and lamps immediately, so as not to waste my time on that tomorrow."
"Clever thinking," Dad said, a big praise from him.
Linda finished her last bit and said: "I'll have Bente and Karin over tomorrow, if that's OK. The new magazines are out, and there's some make up ideas we want to try out."
"That's fine too," Mom said. I'll be home at around half past four tomorrow. Don't make too much of a mess in the bathroom."
"We'll mostly stay in my room, I think," Linda replied. "Can I take the hallway mirror into my room?"
"Yes you can, and you could ask Dad to bring it up for you tonight, then it's safe."
"Will you, dad, please?" Linda asked. 
Dad nodded and rose. "I can do it now, wile your Mom brews the coffee."

The crate with battery lamps was unusually messy, it took a long time for Susan to find a white and a red cover, bulbs and lamps that fit together.
"If you can't find any red lamps you can take some of the red paper from the sardine tins to wrap around one of the white ones," Mom said.
"Is that even legal?" Susan asked.
"I doubt it," Mom answered, "but better than two white lights confusing the cars."
Mysteriously this made Susan and Mom both laugh out loud.

The lessons next day passed excruciatingly slow. But finally the last bell rung. Susan hurried home and put the milk to boil while dressing with an eye on the pot. Milk always boils over when you're not watching. As soon as it boiled, she poured a bit over the cocoa drink powder in the thermos and shook it to dissolve the powder, then she filled up the thermos. She debated with herself whether to bring her magic wand or not. On one side she was not allowed to wear it in public places, and she was not sure she could keep it safe, but on the other side it was not safe at home with her curious sister and her friends either. In the end she decided that taking it along was the better course of action.

She then cleared out her school-bag, put in the thermos, the battery lamps, a spare pair of mittens and her wand. She hung it on the bag hook on the rack and secured it with an end of twine. Then as an afterthought she put her winter boots in the bag as well.
Biking along the long road leading off the main road to the park she spied a girl biking in front of her.
That top hat, Susan thought to herself, and those long braids. It just has to be cousin Anna.
Susan pedalled faster and gained on the girl. Soon she was within hollering distance and called: "Anna, please wait for me!"
It was Anna, who slowed down waiting for Susan. The two girls biked together the last half kilometre. Anna told that her curfew was at seven, same as Susan's.
"Oh, your mom did allow it," Susan said. "Then I did not lie when I said that you were allowed ..."
"I said the same to my mom," Anna said laughing.
Then the roof of the girl scouts' place could be seen over the treetops, Anna and Susan turned right into the park, feeling very lucky to be allowed to stay out for so long this evening. 

Drawing of a battery lamp -- Nefa-lamp -- from here.
All the bottom part is just a battery case with a fixture for a holder on the bike.

And the red and translucent tops (the white one is more opaque than the ones I remember) from here. Tightening the tops turned on the lamps.

Words for Wednesday & IWSG

It is Wednesday. And this means time for Words for Wednesday!

Endnu engang undskyld til danske læsere. Det bliver ikke til noget på dansk i dag.

This challenge was started by Delores a long time ago. Troubles led her to bow out, but the challenge was too much fun to let go, and now the Words for Wednesday is provided by a number of people and has become a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator.

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 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. 

-- 🇦 -- 🇧 -- 🇨 --

   All Wednesdays in August the Words are provided by messymimi on her blog.

   I wrote, thought, wrote some more, deleted some words, thought some more ... and so on. Then a lot of things happened, then I made my post - this one.  Wednesday and Thursday were busy days somewhere else but in the Owlery -- and what little time I spent in front of the computer, was spent checking e-mail, proofreading and editing, not much blogging happened except for ultra-short visits to other blogs. I had after all published this ... or actually not!

     Today's Words:
Flatware
Season
Resist
Combine
Second
Breakdown
    and/or
Bottom
Shame
Spine
Dinner
Offence
Front

These were the Words for this Wednesday, and what I should have used, but all my writing, thinking, deleting, thinking, writing and so on took place before Messymimi had made public her Words. Long way of saying that I used the WfW for last Wednesday, given by me and to be found here.

These words were:
Gratitude
Thistle
A pod of dolphins
Dance
Farmacy - Pharmacy is what I meant. The typo due to my not being English and Blogger and spell checker not co-operating in January.
Crumbs
     And/or
Fog
Nutcracker
Belt
Mushrooms
Room
Remember

Also I used the first batch only, and as usual in the order they were given.
Further a warning is maybe in its place here.
Beware Bloody scenes!

Susan sat at the window looking despondently out into the rain. Life had been one long row of schooldays since the summer holiday ended back in late July. Now September had almost ended, and in fourteen days Autumn holidays would start. The downs from a thistle drifted past the widow, despite the rain they soared,m driven by the wind. Their rising and falling reminded Susan of a pod of dolphins she had seen at the Unicorn Farm in the summer holidays. It was like a dance, and it lifted Susan's spirits.
"Susan!" Mom called from downstairs. Susan poked her head out through the door: "Yes?"
"Would you mind running to the pharmacy for me? We're out of toothpaste again."
"Again?" Susan said, "Is somebody eating it?"
"No, I really think not, it's just a very small container, maybe you could buy two this time?"
"I will," Susan said and took the money mom gave her. "I'll take my bike, I'll be back in a jiffy."
"Take care!" Mom called after her.
Susan quickly biked down to the pharmacy. It was situated in an ugly, new building at a corner of the town's market square. As it was Saturday, it was a market day, and after buying the two toothpaste tubes for mom, Susan walked the market. It was mostly local farmers, hunters, or fishermen selling their produce, but a cheese seller and some florist also had a stall. Susan looked at all the different kinds of potatoes in one stall, long pale yellow ones, round and knobbly ones, and the red-skinned ones Susan and mom liked. The farmer also sold pheasants and rabbits. The next stall sold eggs and poultry. Eggs were ranged after size, from small over medium to large and extra large. Those  were called size S, and Susan wondered if it was S for Struds (meaning ostrich), as someone once told her. She dared not ask. The chicken and ducks and a pair of geese sat in small cages in the shadow under the table.  A lady poked a finger through the bars of the cage, feeling the hen inside. "She is a fine, fat hen," the farmer said. "Good for soup!"
"And it's an old rooster, old and tough as an old boot, I dare bet," the lady answered.
"Of course not," the farmer assured. "She has been laying eggs for a short while only, She's young and tender."
The lady looked at the hen again. It was a nice, big one, white and black feathered, and the comb was thick and red and stood straight up. She took a paper bag from her basket, and broke some crumbs from a bread and placed them in front of the hen. The hen gobbled up the crumbs with an appetite an cackled at the lady,
"Yes, it looks fine," the lady said. "It will make a nice pot of soup for our Sunday family reunion."
The lady paid, and the farmer spread out some newspaper on the boards of his stall. Then he took the hen from the cage and without further ado wrung its neck. He wrapped it in several layers of newspaper, and the lady tucked it into her basket and went on.
Susan remembered that the street washing machine always cleaned the market square after it closed down at noon. Now she knew why.
Susan went back to the potato stall, counted the money that was left over from buying the toothpaste and pulled together her courage to ask how many of the red-skinned potatoes she could have for the sum. The nice man filled up a big paper bag, weighing the contents with an old scale and pound weights. Susan even had some money left over. She hoped mom would be happy with the red-skinned potatoes.

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

August 2 question - Have you ever written something that afterwards you felt conflicted about? If so, did you let it stay how it was, take it out, or rewrite it?

My answer - Not in books, no. But here on my blog I have written about a challenge, where I felt conflicted to a great degree. I edited a bit, but generally left it as it was written.

Words for Wednesday June 21.

Yesterday was Wednesday. And this means Words for Wednesday!

And oops it is still Wednesday😕, but I will not take this down again to repost in a few hours.

This challenge was started by Delores a long time ago. Troubles led her to bow out, but the challenge was too much fun to let go, and now the Words for Wednesday is provided by a number of people and has become a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator.

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 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. 

-- 🇦 -- 🇧 -- 🇨 --

All Wednesdays in June the Words are provided by Hilary Melton-Butcher but they are made public at Elephant's Child's blog.

For June 21 we were given:

Archetype (cliche)
Clouds
Rummage
Weakly
Shovel
     And/or
Grace
Blot
Jackdaw
Legume
Poet

Sometimes you just have a theme pursuing you and jumping at you whatever you read. For me this week it has been tongue twisters. And this made me write this crazy piece from exactly today, but many years ago at Unicorn Farm:

"Today is the last Thursday before Midsummer," Gylfi said after casting the Mál sameinast, so that everyone could understand what he said. "And in the wizarding world this means Tongue Twister Thursday. So today, after the last lesson, which will be shorter than normal, we all meet in the barn, or," Gylfi said looking out through the window: "Make that in the meadow."

None of the apprentices could really concentrate on the lessons for the rest of the Thursday. Now and then the professors had to call out a name loudly to make the apprentice answer. Heidi almost walked into the pump in the yard and Terje fell over his own legs twice on the way back to their classroom. Susan was for once the least affected of the apprentices. She had always loved tongue twisters and knew several in different languages. Of course worries got the better of her, in the exact moment Thora asked her a question:
"Susan, did you not hear me?" Thora asked.
Susan stopped trying to remember how to say a quite nasty row of words in Czech and shook her head: "Sorry, no I was inattentive. Would you please repeat?"
Thora looked at the apprentices, decided against praising Susan for her honesty and polite answer and instead just asked her: "The elemental of fire is characterised by which properties?"
Susan drew a deep breath, and answered Thora's question: "The efreet is the archetype of the element of fire. He is playful, volatile, and bent on getting bigger. You cannot command or convince an efreet, but you can trick him, a dare would probably be a good way to do this. But never forget. Fire is dangerous."
 "Fine answer," Thora sad, but you forgot ..."
What Susan forgot had to wait for next lesson. The bell in the small belfry stroke, and every apprentice an professor hurried out into the meadow.

In the corner of the meadows as usual tree trunks lay and slices of trees stood as couches, benches and stools. All the apprentices and professors sat down on their favourite piece of wood, and the Nisser gathered shyly in a corner a bit off from the rest. Gylfi steered a fairly thin slice of a big trunk to the front,m and cast a spell on it, Then he stepped upon it and spoke. His voice, magically augmented,, reached everybody.
"Whoever thinks he or she can pull off a tongue twister with a straight face steps upon this slab of wood. Any who cannot find any more to say, who stumbles or begin laughing is out, and go sit on the unused logs right and left. Whoever is still standing after one round, can try again. Winner is the last man, woman, girl or boy standing.
"I begin," Gylfi said. "How do you like this one: 'Stebbi stood on the beach and was treading straws. Straws will not be tread unless Stebbi tread straws. Once treads Stebbi straws, twice treads Stebbi straws, thrice treads Stebbi straws' ..."
All the apprentices and professors looked at him in wonder, then he and Thora looked at one another and began laughing.
Thora shook her head, clasped her wand firmly, and said: "It is no good trying tongue twisters under the language spell:" Then she swished her wand just so, saying: "Mál skiljas hver frá öðrum!"
Gylfi drew a long breath and repeated the tongue twister. Only this time his words came out in Icelandic: "Stebbi stóð á ströndu, var að troða strý. Strý var ekki troðið nema Stebbi træði strý. Eintreður Stebbi strý, tvítreður Stebbi strý, þrítreður Stebbi strý ..."
Thora stopped laughing long enough to say her part: "Rómverskur riddari réðist inn í Rómarborg. Rændi og ruplaði rabbarbara og rófum."
Susan began laughing as did some of the apprentices, mostly the Icelandic ones.  
"What did she say?" Heidi asked, "I think I have come to rely too much on the language spell to be cast every morning. I only understood a few words words."
"It is a crazy sentence," Susan said, still smiling. It means: A Roman knight went charging into Rome. Ran around and robbed rhubarbs and beets."
Tähti og Taavi stepped on the wooden slab and spoke in unison: "Vesihiisi sihisi hississä." (A water troll was hissing in the elevator).
Then Jon took a turn: "Ibsens ripsbærbusker og andre buskevekster." (The redcurrant bushes and other bushy growths of Ibsen's).
Torben was next. With a flourish he stepped up and said: "Bissens gibsbisp gisper bistert." (Bissen's plaster-bishop gasps gruffly.)
ML tried her luck repeating Stativ, stakit, kasket (tripod, fence, cap - not a sentence, only very hard to say) three times without error and failed.
Birgitta impressed everybody with her sentence: "Knut stod vid en knut och knöt en knut, så knöt Knut knuten och så var knuten knuten." (Knut stood by a corner and knotted a knot, then Knut knotted the knot and the knot was knotted).
Martine tackled a Swedish one: Sorry, Norwegian is not a good language for tongue twisters, and I'm sure you all appreciate this one: "Kvistfritt kvastskaft." (Knot-free broomstick)
Almost everybody began laughing and tried repeating it. The words were some they all knew in other languages from flying lessons, from working around The Farm, and most of all from arriving too late, after the Mál sameinast had been spoken over the apprentices and professors on The Farm.

One ingenious tongue twister after another rang over the meadow, professors and apprentices mixed up sentences, languages and words, and had to go sit on the logs, where friendly compensations in strange words and even stranger languages played out.

In the end only five were left. Tähti, Taavi, Susan, Lis and and much to her own surprise, Aamu

Tähti said: "Mustan kissan paksut posket," (Black cats' fat cheeks) whereupon Taavi admitted defeat, he had run out of ideas.
Lis still had it in her and gasped out: "Fem flade flødeboller på et fladt flødebollefad" (Five flat cream puffs on a flat cream puff dish)
Aamu held her own with "She sells sea shells down by the sea shore."
Susan retaliated with the worst one she knew in Danish: "Jeg plukker frugt med en brugt frugtplukker," (I pick fruit with a second-hand fruit picker). And only much practise let her say this sentence correctly.
Tähti dug through her brain, and came up with an Icelandic one: "Barbara Ara bar Ara Araba bara rabbarbara" (Barbara Ara only gave Ari the Arab rhubarb). This one made Lis laugh so much, that she could not say her sentence, and was forced to go sit on the logs.
Aamu showed off her spunk by continuing in German: "Wenn nach Fliegen Fliegen fliegen, fliegen Fliegen Fliegen nach" (When flies fly after flies the flies fly after flies).
And this made Susan say the Czech sentence she had been thinking off when Thora asked her about efreets: "Strč prst skrz krk," she said (Stick a finger through your throat). "And as far as I know only in Czech can you make sentences totally without vowels!"
Tähti stepped to the slab and drew a deep breath. Then she said: "Ringeren i Ringe ringer ringere end ringeren i Ringsted" and began laughing. (The toller in Ringe, is ringing worse than the toller in Ringsted -Danish, not Finnish). She went to the logs and sat down next to Taavi.
Aamu climbed up the slab, closed her eyes and said: "Zwei Schwalben zwitschern zwischen zwei Zwetschgenzweigen ," (Two swallows twitter between two plum branches).
Susan went to the slab, but all words had suddenly drained out of her head: "I surrender," she said. "Aamu knows more, and better tongue twisters than I do."

Everybody applauded Aamu, and Gylfi hung a big medal around her neck. Tea and cake magically appeared on tables near where they sat, and while the sun set between clouds to the west, good times were had by all.


Some kind of record? I used only two words, but a lot of different languages (Icelandic, Finnish, Norwegian, Czech, Swedish, German and Danish) and for info, yes, I understand them all - only not the Finnish ones.