The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise, River has taken the mantle of coordinator upon her shoulders.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage
us to 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.
This month the words are given by me (Charlotte - MotherOwl) and can be found at River's blog: Drifting through Life
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment
on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few
encouraging words.
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.
And for today we were given:
Spice,
Think,
Scissors,
Glue,
Numbers,
Glum
and/or
Patch,
Banana,
Evening,
Lamp,
Shady,
Golden
As I'm still suffering from a hex making my Wednesdays busy, it is now Thursday. Another Here and now, describing my busy Wednesday.
Wednesday I went to town early. I did not go by bike, as it was raining and windy. First on the program was an hour's PE, then shopping for spices, yoghurt, granola and a new hairclip for me. My daughter accidentally took off with the only working one, I had, and the other one went missing some days ago. I think that working with scissors, glue, paint and cleaning solutions, climbing up and down furniture and ladders with my hair hanging down, could lead to any number of mishaps and accidents, I had to find a new one and now foresaw the glum prospect of trawling all the smart-ass shops in town. Luckily I decided to visit a second hand store and found two! hairclips small enough for my thin and slippery hair.
After a knitting circle meeting - which was very nice, involving cake, lots of talking, new books to peruse - and naturally knitting - I returned home in the late afternoon.
Then I downloaded a bothersome patch for some computer troubles, drank coffee with hubby, ate a banana, jumped into my "dirty clothes" put one of the new hairclips in my hair and scrubbed, rinsed off and painted our bathroom. It's not big, but I last painted it over 30 years ago, when first we moved in here. It was in need of a repaint. It was evening before I was done.
Then we ate leftovers from yesterday, and sat a bit by lamplight drinking a cup of tea while watching the shades grow deeper and darker as the golden sun set. I installed the patch, almost swearing over the lots of bugs and unwieldy solutions. Then I went out into the semi-dark garden, closing greenhouse, garden gates, and chicken coop - it was time for bed.
No time for writing.
Dear readers and co-bloggers, now commenting is again possible on almost all blogs.
We're still waiting for the blogrolls to update, so if you think I'm slow in commenting this might be why.
While waiting for an update on this, know that I'm still reading and enjoying your blogs, albeit a bit later than any of us would like.
Viser opslag med etiketten Skriverier. Vis alle opslag
Viser opslag med etiketten Skriverier. Vis alle opslag
torsdag den 23. juli 2026
fredag den 10. juli 2026
Words for Wednesday ~ July 8
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise, River has taken the mantle of coordinator upon her shoulders.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to 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.
This month the words are given by me (Charlotte - MotherOwl) and can be found at River's blog: Drifting through Life
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
And for today we were given:
Peach,
Granola Bowl,
Idea,
Wood,
Sad
and/or
Turn,
Scarecrow,
Flowers,
Cauldron,
Hot,
Bubble
Also this week I'm late, and also this week I did not succeed in writing out the idea in my head. Another "here and now" is all I can do.
While I sat eating Peach Melba yoghurt from my favourite granola bowl, I got an idea. I like wood, I like working with wood. I am sad that my lathe is broken, because I find so much beautiful wood, that would be just right for the turning of a bowl.
Instead I'll maybe go and put up a scarecrow.. The crows and blackbirds are eating my redcurrants and the slugs are eating all my strawberries - a scarecrow won't help here.
Maybe I'll pick some flowers today, the marigolds and the dyer's chamomile are ready for picking.
It would be lovely to have an old cauldron to dye my wool in with the dyer's chamomile, I see it in my mind's eyes: hot, bubbling, dying hank after hank a luminous yellow. But my wonderful pot is all I have. It does not bubble, but it gets the job done.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise, River has taken the mantle of coordinator upon her shoulders.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to 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.
This month the words are given by me (Charlotte - MotherOwl) and can be found at River's blog: Drifting through Life
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
And for today we were given:
Peach,
Granola Bowl,
Idea,
Wood,
Sad
and/or
Turn,
Scarecrow,
Flowers,
Cauldron,
Hot,
Bubble
Also this week I'm late, and also this week I did not succeed in writing out the idea in my head. Another "here and now" is all I can do.
While I sat eating Peach Melba yoghurt from my favourite granola bowl, I got an idea. I like wood, I like working with wood. I am sad that my lathe is broken, because I find so much beautiful wood, that would be just right for the turning of a bowl.
Instead I'll maybe go and put up a scarecrow.. The crows and blackbirds are eating my redcurrants and the slugs are eating all my strawberries - a scarecrow won't help here.
Maybe I'll pick some flowers today, the marigolds and the dyer's chamomile are ready for picking.
It would be lovely to have an old cauldron to dye my wool in with the dyer's chamomile, I see it in my mind's eyes: hot, bubbling, dying hank after hank a luminous yellow. But my wonderful pot is all I have. It does not bubble, but it gets the job done.
torsdag den 7. maj 2026
Effervescent Water ~ Part 3
Still there's the second batch of six words left over from yesterday. Those are:
Zero
Simple
Clockwork
Brain
Study
Size
I continue the strange story about the effervescent water. Using the words in order, only not Clockwork - I could not make it fir at all.
"I don't know anything," Hilde said. "Thora took the water and things with a curt thank you. And she closed the door very securely - or maybe she even used a soundproofing spell, because I could not hear a word from in there. Nothing, zilch, zero!"
The green team went to their normal classroom and sat down. Nobody said anything, Terje was sniffing at regular intervals due to hay fever until Hilde lost her patience with the sound and in a subdued voice cast a small healing spell on him. He smiled, but did not speak.
Susan could not stand the silence and heavy atmosphere, but she did not know what to do.
In the end Rósa broke the brooding silence: "We might as well compare notes on the lesson Thora was teaching us today. What ingredient did you write down as the wrong one? I had sea weeds as the odd man out form the list, but I think it's wrong. I could find no reason for it, and neither did I have a better suggestion."
Sanne, the girl from the Faroe Islands said: "I am sure stink beetles were wrong, but I don't know why, some stinky mushroom that I only know in Faroese is the right one."
"You forget that the language spell is still doing it's magic," Knud said with a lopsided smile. "Just say it, we'll hear it in our own languages."
"Stinkhorn," Sanne said.
"Of course," Knud said, "that's the one."
"I agree with you as well," Susan said."Only I was in doubt that the solution could be this simple."
"But it is," Hilde said. "I know Stinkbugs are wrong because it is the stinking cloud recipe, and it calls for stinkhorn, not stinkbugs. But I do not know why it should be wrong, only that it is wrong."
"Maybe because it was the only animal thing in the list?" Susan said. "All the others were plants or inanimates. At least that's what I wrote on my slip of paper."
"That's a good guess," Veronika said. "I think it's right."
"I think so too," Kirstin said. "I admit I had the wrong one, Sulphur, but after listening to you smart ones I think you're right."
"I had the same idea," Knud added, "only I never got to writing it down. I sort of forgot, but now I remember."
"Did you sit next to Marja?" Hilde had a cunning gleam in her watery blue eyes, and her plain face was almost beautiful from the excitement. When Knud nodded, she exclaimed: "I think I know why the Birch sisters were inattentive, and why Thora asked us to wash hands and mouths in the effervescent water."
"How do you know," Terje asked. "I only knew Stinkbugs were not right."
"I have been taught to use my brain, and I have studied hard even before I came here. Let's go to the library. I need to look in one of the books there. It is a big book, that's why I do not have it in my bag. Its size makes it very impractical."
In the library Hilde found a long, slim book. It would not fit into any school-bag. She quickly consulted the index, and found one of the dark yellow pages: "Listen here: 'Effervescent water, while normally not used for potions or philtres due to its bubbly, reactive nature, is an easy to use and efficient antidote to the effects of Dream Drops.' There we go. The Birch sisters have probably been using Dream Drops, and the effect had spread to at least Knud. That's why she asked us all to go and wash in the water."
"Erm, sorry." Knud said "what the bugger are Dream Drops?"
Zero
Simple
Clockwork
Brain
Study
Size
I continue the strange story about the effervescent water. Using the words in order, only not Clockwork - I could not make it fir at all.
"I don't know anything," Hilde said. "Thora took the water and things with a curt thank you. And she closed the door very securely - or maybe she even used a soundproofing spell, because I could not hear a word from in there. Nothing, zilch, zero!"
The green team went to their normal classroom and sat down. Nobody said anything, Terje was sniffing at regular intervals due to hay fever until Hilde lost her patience with the sound and in a subdued voice cast a small healing spell on him. He smiled, but did not speak.
Susan could not stand the silence and heavy atmosphere, but she did not know what to do.
In the end Rósa broke the brooding silence: "We might as well compare notes on the lesson Thora was teaching us today. What ingredient did you write down as the wrong one? I had sea weeds as the odd man out form the list, but I think it's wrong. I could find no reason for it, and neither did I have a better suggestion."
Sanne, the girl from the Faroe Islands said: "I am sure stink beetles were wrong, but I don't know why, some stinky mushroom that I only know in Faroese is the right one."
"You forget that the language spell is still doing it's magic," Knud said with a lopsided smile. "Just say it, we'll hear it in our own languages."
"Stinkhorn," Sanne said.
"Of course," Knud said, "that's the one."
"I agree with you as well," Susan said."Only I was in doubt that the solution could be this simple."
"But it is," Hilde said. "I know Stinkbugs are wrong because it is the stinking cloud recipe, and it calls for stinkhorn, not stinkbugs. But I do not know why it should be wrong, only that it is wrong."
"Maybe because it was the only animal thing in the list?" Susan said. "All the others were plants or inanimates. At least that's what I wrote on my slip of paper."
"That's a good guess," Veronika said. "I think it's right."
"I think so too," Kirstin said. "I admit I had the wrong one, Sulphur, but after listening to you smart ones I think you're right."
"I had the same idea," Knud added, "only I never got to writing it down. I sort of forgot, but now I remember."
"Did you sit next to Marja?" Hilde had a cunning gleam in her watery blue eyes, and her plain face was almost beautiful from the excitement. When Knud nodded, she exclaimed: "I think I know why the Birch sisters were inattentive, and why Thora asked us to wash hands and mouths in the effervescent water."
"How do you know," Terje asked. "I only knew Stinkbugs were not right."
"I have been taught to use my brain, and I have studied hard even before I came here. Let's go to the library. I need to look in one of the books there. It is a big book, that's why I do not have it in my bag. Its size makes it very impractical."
In the library Hilde found a long, slim book. It would not fit into any school-bag. She quickly consulted the index, and found one of the dark yellow pages: "Listen here: 'Effervescent water, while normally not used for potions or philtres due to its bubbly, reactive nature, is an easy to use and efficient antidote to the effects of Dream Drops.' There we go. The Birch sisters have probably been using Dream Drops, and the effect had spread to at least Knud. That's why she asked us all to go and wash in the water."
"Erm, sorry." Knud said "what the bugger are Dream Drops?"
And the explanation for this, and Thora's lecture on the use of those
and teaching and learning at The Unicorn Farm will have to wait.
and teaching and learning at The Unicorn Farm will have to wait.
onsdag den 6. maj 2026
Words for Wednesday ~ Updated & IWSG ~ May 6
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually
taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise, River has taken the mantle of coordinator upon her shoulders.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are to be found at Mimi's blog: Messymimi's Meanderings.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
And for today we were given:
Inane
Trees
Wind
Effervescent
Landmark
Method
And/Or:
Zero
Simple
Clockwork
Brain
Study
Size
These words will probably lend themselves to a story. But not today. I only just returned home, and have to helpcooking, and after we'll have visitors. Hopefully tomorrow ...
I got to sit down for a little while and writing happened. This continues from here, using the first six words, and as usual in the order they were given.
Marja, the youngest of the birch sisters, looked at the entangling vines with an inane look in her green eyes.
"Where did they come from?" she asked her sister in a loud stage whisper. Paula woke from her own reverie and noticed the vines tying her to the chair. "Danged if I know!" she replied a tad too loudly.
Thora turned to the two sisters, and they turned as white as the tree they were called after.
"You did this!" Paula said, belligerently.
"Yes and no," Thore replied calmly, but with an undertone as cold as the howling wind in a snowstorm. "You were both inattentive - again. The kind of inattentive that comes from disrespect and laziness. You never heard my questions, you never even tried to answer. You were both so deeply ensconced in your reveries that you did not even notice the creeping vines." They were not used to seeing Thora this angry, and everybody in the room sat quiet as mice.
"But," Marja said, "I just wanted to ..." her voice died off in mutterings.
"You just wanted to what?" Thora asked. Marja stammered and spluttered and grinded to a halt.
"What about you, Paula?" Thora asked.
"I was thinking," Paula replied, still with some spite in her voice.
"You were thinking," Thora said, "and in such deep thoughts that the vines bound you without you even noticing. Now, spill it!"
Thora turned around: "Green team! You are dismissed! You'll all go and wash out your hands and mouths in the effervescent water in the big, blue tub in the stable. And Hilde after you've done this, you'll bring me two litres of said water, two mugs and a pair of scissors."
"Yes, Thora, will do!" Hilde said, every line in her being showing the same confusion they all felt.
They did as ordered. In the stable, where all the cages and other paraphernalia for zoological and botanical lessons were kept, they found a big, blue tub filled to the brim with effervescent water, bubbling, foaming and dancing, and a nearby table held green mugs. They rinsed their mouths in the water, spitting the sweet tasting concoction into the long white sink along the back wall, where they normally washed vases and containers. Then they poured water for one another washing their hands with the same water. Their hands and mouths felt clean and faintly tingling. None of them dared disobey Thora's orders, but there were many questions asked, and no answers given.
Hilde filled a two litre jar from the tub, grabbed two mugs and a pair of scissors from the drawers and left.
The rest of the green team, stayed in the stable, looking fascinated at the bubbling waters in the tub.
"I do not understand," Terje said slowly. "Where did those vines come from. And what was the answer to Thora's questions?"
"Dear Terje," Knud said, I think I speak for all of us when I say that we do not understand anything either. We're travelling unknown land with no landmarks here."
"I agree," Nicklas said quietly. "Something strange is happening. That's not like Thora to behave like that over a bit of bickering and inattention. There must be some method to this madness."
"Must be," Veronika agreed, "Even if I see no connection between a botched potions recipe, animated pincers, vines and a big, blue tub of bubbling waters, there must be."
Hilde returned and everybody stopped talking and looked expectantly at her.
May 6 question - What was the most inspiring feedback you received from readers, including agents, editors, and beta readers
My answer - This qustion makes me sad, because the best inspiring feedback was not one comment from anybody. It was something I still miss, namely the unvavering enthusiasm of Elephant's Child, also known as Sue @ myjustsostory. Now sadly deceased.
I wrote this as part of a preamble to one of my short stories:
Sometimes I felt like I wrote my stories for her alone, when time were tough and hot in Australia. ... I still miss her gentle presence in the blogosphere ...
Not that others are not enthusiastic or supportive, because you sure are! and much of the reason I'm still a somewhat sane person and blogger THANKS!
EC was just ... I don't know how to express this the way I want to ... but you felt like a very special person when she commented.
Here's two of her wonderful comments.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise, River has taken the mantle of coordinator upon her shoulders.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are to be found at Mimi's blog: Messymimi's Meanderings.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
And for today we were given:
Inane
Trees
Wind
Effervescent
Landmark
Method
And/Or:
Zero
Simple
Clockwork
Brain
Study
Size
These words will probably lend themselves to a story. But not today. I only just returned home, and have to helpcooking, and after we'll have visitors. Hopefully tomorrow ...
I got to sit down for a little while and writing happened. This continues from here, using the first six words, and as usual in the order they were given.
Marja, the youngest of the birch sisters, looked at the entangling vines with an inane look in her green eyes.
"Where did they come from?" she asked her sister in a loud stage whisper. Paula woke from her own reverie and noticed the vines tying her to the chair. "Danged if I know!" she replied a tad too loudly.
Thora turned to the two sisters, and they turned as white as the tree they were called after.
"You did this!" Paula said, belligerently.
"Yes and no," Thore replied calmly, but with an undertone as cold as the howling wind in a snowstorm. "You were both inattentive - again. The kind of inattentive that comes from disrespect and laziness. You never heard my questions, you never even tried to answer. You were both so deeply ensconced in your reveries that you did not even notice the creeping vines." They were not used to seeing Thora this angry, and everybody in the room sat quiet as mice.
"But," Marja said, "I just wanted to ..." her voice died off in mutterings.
"You just wanted to what?" Thora asked. Marja stammered and spluttered and grinded to a halt.
"What about you, Paula?" Thora asked.
"I was thinking," Paula replied, still with some spite in her voice.
"You were thinking," Thora said, "and in such deep thoughts that the vines bound you without you even noticing. Now, spill it!"
Thora turned around: "Green team! You are dismissed! You'll all go and wash out your hands and mouths in the effervescent water in the big, blue tub in the stable. And Hilde after you've done this, you'll bring me two litres of said water, two mugs and a pair of scissors."
"Yes, Thora, will do!" Hilde said, every line in her being showing the same confusion they all felt.
They did as ordered. In the stable, where all the cages and other paraphernalia for zoological and botanical lessons were kept, they found a big, blue tub filled to the brim with effervescent water, bubbling, foaming and dancing, and a nearby table held green mugs. They rinsed their mouths in the water, spitting the sweet tasting concoction into the long white sink along the back wall, where they normally washed vases and containers. Then they poured water for one another washing their hands with the same water. Their hands and mouths felt clean and faintly tingling. None of them dared disobey Thora's orders, but there were many questions asked, and no answers given.
Hilde filled a two litre jar from the tub, grabbed two mugs and a pair of scissors from the drawers and left.
The rest of the green team, stayed in the stable, looking fascinated at the bubbling waters in the tub.
"I do not understand," Terje said slowly. "Where did those vines come from. And what was the answer to Thora's questions?"
"Dear Terje," Knud said, I think I speak for all of us when I say that we do not understand anything either. We're travelling unknown land with no landmarks here."
"I agree," Nicklas said quietly. "Something strange is happening. That's not like Thora to behave like that over a bit of bickering and inattention. There must be some method to this madness."
"Must be," Veronika agreed, "Even if I see no connection between a botched potions recipe, animated pincers, vines and a big, blue tub of bubbling waters, there must be."
Hilde returned and everybody stopped talking and looked expectantly at her.
. . . . . To be continued
- -
A
- -
B
- -
C
- -
May 6 question - What was the most inspiring feedback you received from readers, including agents, editors, and beta readersMy answer - This qustion makes me sad, because the best inspiring feedback was not one comment from anybody. It was something I still miss, namely the unvavering enthusiasm of Elephant's Child, also known as Sue @ myjustsostory. Now sadly deceased.
I wrote this as part of a preamble to one of my short stories:
Sometimes I felt like I wrote my stories for her alone, when time were tough and hot in Australia. ... I still miss her gentle presence in the blogosphere ...
Not that others are not enthusiastic or supportive, because you sure are! and much of the reason I'm still a somewhat sane person and blogger THANKS!
EC was just ... I don't know how to express this the way I want to ... but you felt like a very special person when she commented.
Here's two of her wonderful comments.
onsdag den 8. april 2026
Words for Wednesday ~ April 8
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually
taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise, River has taken the mantle of coordinator upon her shoulders.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are to be found at Mimi's blog: Messymimi's Meanderings.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on Mimi's or River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
And for today we were given
Elegant
Limited
Spontaneous
Bother
List
Pin
and/or the following phrases:
Don’t count your chickens before they hatch (meaning do not rely on something you are not sure of)
Par for the course (meaning what you would expect to happen)
A piece of cake (meaning a task which is easy to accomplish)
After digging up Susan's trip to Sweden, I felt like returning to Unicorn Farm. I also took up my old challenge, to use the words in the order they were given. The story ran away with me, and ended up quite somewhere else than I imagined. I hope you enjoy it anyway. I did not use the phrases, this might or might not happen later on.
Thora entered the classroom, elegant as ever, Susan envied her, she always felt clumsy, not dressed for the occasion or somehow sticking out. On the other hand Susan did not care enough, she could easily find more interesting use for her limited free time than ironing shirts or skirts or doing her hair. Also she had a propensity for spontaneous trips to the woods, the beach or to a farm, and she did not like her clothes to hamper or bother her in these endeavours. She ended her line of thoughts with more points to her own casual style as Thora swished her wand, and a long list of strange ingredients appeared on the blackboard in Thora's usual flourishing golden letters.
Susan read along, as did many of the others, Kalle and Anna were in the middle of one of their sibling rivalries and sat quietly pinching one another, while Marja and Paula, the Birch sisters were demonstratively inattentive.
Thora did not acknowledge the disturbances with as much as a raised eyebrow.
When the stylus stopped writing, Thora asked the apprentices on the green team to pinpoint the odd man out on the list.
Small papers flew through the air, and Susan looked at hers. It read:
- Which ingredient:
- Why:
- Bonus. What should it have been:
Susan read through the list once more and decided that stinkbug wings did not belong. Now she had to find out why. Very soon it came to her. All the other ingredients were inanimate or plant matters, this was the only animal part. She wrote this down too. And what should Thora have listed? Hmm, the stink-part seemed correct, but she did not know any stink plant. She looked through the window, thinking. She did not hear Anna and Kalle moaning when pinched by animated lobster claws, of course conjured by Thora, neither did she notice the creeper vines that not so slowly wound around the birch sisters, tying them to their chairs.
Of course! A stinkhorn! that was what was missing, Now it was clear to her, this was the ingredient list for the stinking cloud-potion. She wrote this and the stinkhorn on her paper and looked up.
Then the began having second thoughts. It had been too easy. Where was the trap? She started re-reading the ingredients list on the blackboard, but then she noticed the tied up sisters and the claws snipping at Anna and Kalle. She knew the possible cause for their being punished -- their eternal sibling bickering - but what had the Birch sisters been up to? Anna was beginning to tire, and the big claw came nearer and nearer to getting a good grip on her thigh. Before Susan could get to her wand, Kalle noticed his sister's plight, and turned his wand and his warding spells at Anna's claw, which promptly disappeared in thin air. Anna was a fast learner, so when Kalle's claw dived in for a nip at his nose, Anna gathered the last of her powers and made it go away.
"And now," Thora said to the Swedish siblings, "now I'd like you to use your brains on today's problem instead."
Red-faced and shameful they both began reading the list. Susan also returned her attention to her paper, only to realize that it had been magically prepared to return to Thora when filled out. Now she could do nothing more than hope that her first intuition had been right.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise, River has taken the mantle of coordinator upon her shoulders.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are to be found at Mimi's blog: Messymimi's Meanderings.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on Mimi's or River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
And for today we were given
Elegant
Limited
Spontaneous
Bother
List
Pin
and/or the following phrases:
Don’t count your chickens before they hatch (meaning do not rely on something you are not sure of)
Par for the course (meaning what you would expect to happen)
A piece of cake (meaning a task which is easy to accomplish)
After digging up Susan's trip to Sweden, I felt like returning to Unicorn Farm. I also took up my old challenge, to use the words in the order they were given. The story ran away with me, and ended up quite somewhere else than I imagined. I hope you enjoy it anyway. I did not use the phrases, this might or might not happen later on.
Thora entered the classroom, elegant as ever, Susan envied her, she always felt clumsy, not dressed for the occasion or somehow sticking out. On the other hand Susan did not care enough, she could easily find more interesting use for her limited free time than ironing shirts or skirts or doing her hair. Also she had a propensity for spontaneous trips to the woods, the beach or to a farm, and she did not like her clothes to hamper or bother her in these endeavours. She ended her line of thoughts with more points to her own casual style as Thora swished her wand, and a long list of strange ingredients appeared on the blackboard in Thora's usual flourishing golden letters.
Susan read along, as did many of the others, Kalle and Anna were in the middle of one of their sibling rivalries and sat quietly pinching one another, while Marja and Paula, the Birch sisters were demonstratively inattentive.
Thora did not acknowledge the disturbances with as much as a raised eyebrow.
When the stylus stopped writing, Thora asked the apprentices on the green team to pinpoint the odd man out on the list.
Small papers flew through the air, and Susan looked at hers. It read:
- Which ingredient:
- Why:
- Bonus. What should it have been:
Susan read through the list once more and decided that stinkbug wings did not belong. Now she had to find out why. Very soon it came to her. All the other ingredients were inanimate or plant matters, this was the only animal part. She wrote this down too. And what should Thora have listed? Hmm, the stink-part seemed correct, but she did not know any stink plant. She looked through the window, thinking. She did not hear Anna and Kalle moaning when pinched by animated lobster claws, of course conjured by Thora, neither did she notice the creeper vines that not so slowly wound around the birch sisters, tying them to their chairs.
Of course! A stinkhorn! that was what was missing, Now it was clear to her, this was the ingredient list for the stinking cloud-potion. She wrote this and the stinkhorn on her paper and looked up.
Then the began having second thoughts. It had been too easy. Where was the trap? She started re-reading the ingredients list on the blackboard, but then she noticed the tied up sisters and the claws snipping at Anna and Kalle. She knew the possible cause for their being punished -- their eternal sibling bickering - but what had the Birch sisters been up to? Anna was beginning to tire, and the big claw came nearer and nearer to getting a good grip on her thigh. Before Susan could get to her wand, Kalle noticed his sister's plight, and turned his wand and his warding spells at Anna's claw, which promptly disappeared in thin air. Anna was a fast learner, so when Kalle's claw dived in for a nip at his nose, Anna gathered the last of her powers and made it go away.
"And now," Thora said to the Swedish siblings, "now I'd like you to use your brains on today's problem instead."
Red-faced and shameful they both began reading the list. Susan also returned her attention to her paper, only to realize that it had been magically prepared to return to Thora when filled out. Now she could do nothing more than hope that her first intuition had been right.
torsdag den 19. februar 2026
Using the Words to continue Peter's Time Travel
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually
taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise, River has taken the mantle of coordinator upon her shoulders.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are supplied by Lissa and are to be found on her blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
Wednesday 11, we were given these words:
Heartbreak
Cheeseburger
Postcard
Aterlife
Beachcomb
From which I only used Heartbreak and Cheeseburger.
Wednesday 18, we were given:
Kerplunk
Erase
Meek
Plead
Tenacious
I begin where I left off last time. Even repeating the last line. Let me see how many of these words I can work into this story - which for the record I have already written, at least as a draft, Monday and Tuesday.
Could I really have gone back in time?
Almost before this thought had fastened itself in my mind, the door opened and the woman entered. This time with an older man in tow.
"You are finally awake," the man said. I nodded, carefully. "I am Lars Hansen, the farmholder." He continued, "Now it is time for me to find out who you are and what to do about you. What is your name?"
"I'm Peter," I answered truthfully, "and my father is Lars, my mother is Ellen."
"I do not know of any other Lars in these parts, and I'm sure you're not my son," he replied.
I did not know if he was joking or scolding. His voice was flat, but his eyes were twinkling just a bit. I replied: "I don't think so either."
He smiled encouragingly at me and said. "Tell me more, how did you arrive here?"
"I don't really know," I said, confusion and longing for my home and family almost overcoming me. "We were visiting my grandparents, and I played with my smaller cousins trying to keep them out of their parents' hair ..."
"And hating every minute of it, I dare bet," Lars interrupted me, now smiling a bit more.
"Well, yes, almost ... we played hide and seek. And then I hid away in a large, battered trunk, belonging to a lodger at my grandparents' farm. Then it snapped shut. Or maybe was snapped shut. I dared not yell, first so as not to be found, later on because I knew I was in a wrong place. Then the trunk was moved with me still inside. And after some more time, still moving along, all of a sudden there was a lot of big noises and colours, just like ..." I was about to say like an explosion, or a bomb, but I was unsure that he would know of these and continued "... like someone shot a cannon at the trunk from up close. Then, kerplunk, it landed somewhere, rolling, and beating me up even more. I do not remember anything coherently before awakening in this here bed."
"This tallies," Lars said. "I maybe should not tell you this, but early in the morning we heard a big noise, just like a cannon, followed by some more noise. When the sun rose, we went out and found you and a broken trunk and some strange debris inside our barn. I have to get the authorities. I will be back with them soon." With this Lars Hansen left the room.
The woman stayed near the bed, and I asked her if she could please turn on the light as I wanted to read a bit more.
"'Turn on' the light?" she repeated, "You do not turn on a light, you light it, but we have decided that you need to be better before we trust you with a candle. You might forget to extinguish it before falling asleep. I get you some porridge, and then you have to get out of bed for a short while."
She returned with a more substantial meal, and when I had eaten it, she helped me from the bed to the stool. I was very weak, the world spun and it was tough sitting on the stool while she changed the bedding and shook out the pillows. Then she pulled the big shirt off me, helped me into another clean, but still oversized one and back into bed. It was good to lie down.
"You will need to be awake and sit up again when Master returns with the authorities. But take a small rest. I will return."
I slept again, and woke when she returned, carrying a candleholder with three candles in it. This she placed on the table and helped me sit, propped up by pillows, She tried to reassure me: "Master will be here soon. He brings the chaplain and a scribe. You speak politely to them, be meek and subdued, and address them as Master or Pastor."
"Thank you." I said, "and how should I call you?"
"I am Sophie, a maid," she replied.
"Thank you Sophie," I said.
I was tense, afraid to say something that would make them suspicious, still afraid to admit, even to myself that I was lost in time, with no hope of ever seeing my family again. I decided that to plead ignorance would be my best bet. Maybe even telling that I suffered from amnesia. That would indeed explain my ignorance. I pondered. The trunk, or maybe the trunks all together had to be some kind of time travelling equipment. I had more questions than answers. Had the lodger travelled with me? Where was he? What about the equipment, and could it bring me back home again? I was a tinkerer at heart, and just maybe I could make it work again. At least it would be worth a try.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise, River has taken the mantle of coordinator upon her shoulders.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are supplied by Lissa and are to be found on her blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
Wednesday 11, we were given these words:
Postcard
Aterlife
Beachcomb
From which I only used Heartbreak and Cheeseburger.
Wednesday 18, we were given:
Kerplunk
Erase
Meek
Plead
Tenacious
I begin where I left off last time. Even repeating the last line. Let me see how many of these words I can work into this story - which for the record I have already written, at least as a draft, Monday and Tuesday.
Could I really have gone back in time?
Almost before this thought had fastened itself in my mind, the door opened and the woman entered. This time with an older man in tow.
"You are finally awake," the man said. I nodded, carefully. "I am Lars Hansen, the farmholder." He continued, "Now it is time for me to find out who you are and what to do about you. What is your name?"
"I'm Peter," I answered truthfully, "and my father is Lars, my mother is Ellen."
"I do not know of any other Lars in these parts, and I'm sure you're not my son," he replied.
I did not know if he was joking or scolding. His voice was flat, but his eyes were twinkling just a bit. I replied: "I don't think so either."
He smiled encouragingly at me and said. "Tell me more, how did you arrive here?"
"I don't really know," I said, confusion and longing for my home and family almost overcoming me. "We were visiting my grandparents, and I played with my smaller cousins trying to keep them out of their parents' hair ..."
"And hating every minute of it, I dare bet," Lars interrupted me, now smiling a bit more.
"Well, yes, almost ... we played hide and seek. And then I hid away in a large, battered trunk, belonging to a lodger at my grandparents' farm. Then it snapped shut. Or maybe was snapped shut. I dared not yell, first so as not to be found, later on because I knew I was in a wrong place. Then the trunk was moved with me still inside. And after some more time, still moving along, all of a sudden there was a lot of big noises and colours, just like ..." I was about to say like an explosion, or a bomb, but I was unsure that he would know of these and continued "... like someone shot a cannon at the trunk from up close. Then, kerplunk, it landed somewhere, rolling, and beating me up even more. I do not remember anything coherently before awakening in this here bed."
"This tallies," Lars said. "I maybe should not tell you this, but early in the morning we heard a big noise, just like a cannon, followed by some more noise. When the sun rose, we went out and found you and a broken trunk and some strange debris inside our barn. I have to get the authorities. I will be back with them soon." With this Lars Hansen left the room.
The woman stayed near the bed, and I asked her if she could please turn on the light as I wanted to read a bit more.
"'Turn on' the light?" she repeated, "You do not turn on a light, you light it, but we have decided that you need to be better before we trust you with a candle. You might forget to extinguish it before falling asleep. I get you some porridge, and then you have to get out of bed for a short while."
She returned with a more substantial meal, and when I had eaten it, she helped me from the bed to the stool. I was very weak, the world spun and it was tough sitting on the stool while she changed the bedding and shook out the pillows. Then she pulled the big shirt off me, helped me into another clean, but still oversized one and back into bed. It was good to lie down.
"You will need to be awake and sit up again when Master returns with the authorities. But take a small rest. I will return."
I slept again, and woke when she returned, carrying a candleholder with three candles in it. This she placed on the table and helped me sit, propped up by pillows, She tried to reassure me: "Master will be here soon. He brings the chaplain and a scribe. You speak politely to them, be meek and subdued, and address them as Master or Pastor."
"Thank you." I said, "and how should I call you?"
"I am Sophie, a maid," she replied.
"Thank you Sophie," I said.
I was tense, afraid to say something that would make them suspicious, still afraid to admit, even to myself that I was lost in time, with no hope of ever seeing my family again. I decided that to plead ignorance would be my best bet. Maybe even telling that I suffered from amnesia. That would indeed explain my ignorance. I pondered. The trunk, or maybe the trunks all together had to be some kind of time travelling equipment. I had more questions than answers. Had the lodger travelled with me? Where was he? What about the equipment, and could it bring me back home again? I was a tinkerer at heart, and just maybe I could make it work again. At least it would be worth a try.
... to be continued.
And for the curious, yes I have written down the whole story. It'll be posted in smaller chunks.
Maybe I won't have the patience to wait until Wednesday with the next instalments.
And for the curious, yes I have written down the whole story. It'll be posted in smaller chunks.
Maybe I won't have the patience to wait until Wednesday with the next instalments.
mandag den 16. februar 2026
Words for Wednesday ~ Much delayed.
Last Wednesday, February 11, Lissa gave us these words:
Heartbreak
Cheeseburger
Postcard
Aterlife
Beachcomb
I never used them for the story I wanted to write, and tonight I had a dream, a most vivid one. I'll try to do it justice in words:
We were visiting my grandparents, I was tired of life in general and family most of all. I just suffered my first real heartbreak. The apple of my eye, sweet Lucy of the laughing eyes and rosy cheeks had told me that I was a no good for nothing idler, that I drank too much, that I cared more about my motorbike than I did for her. It most certainly was not true. The only reason I had been tinkering with my bike when she came over was that it had broken down, and if I did not show up for work in the cheeseburger joint next afternoon, I would loose my job. I stopped the moment I saw her, but obviously I should just have sat around waiting for her doing whatever she did before showing up.
Of course they all tried cheering me up, but their talk of many fish in the sea and puppy love did nothing to brighten my day.
I was in no mood for anything, but the bevel of small cousins forced me into joining them in a game of hide and seek.
During the fourth or so round I had the brainwave of hiding inside one of the big, old-fashioned trunks in the barn. They belonged to my grandparents' mysterious lodger. The cousins living there told of his mad experiments, sometimes resulting in things going ka-boom in the middle of the night. He was kind of creepy, muttering foreign words to himself, tinkering in the old barn, and generally shunning our company.
Well I hid inside his biggest trunk. Suddenly it was snapped shut from the outside, and I felt it being hauled across the uneven barn floor still with me inside. I kept still, afraid of being scolded, discovered, whatever. Strange noises followed. And suddenly I felt the universe shatter. This was the best explanation I could find, Everything went black, blacker even than inside the trunk, then burst into coloured shards and swirls. And the sounds, indescribable screams, roars and booms reverberated through my head. I lost consciousness.
When I came to, I was still stuck in the trunk. I hurt all over, my head throbbed with every beat of my heart, and I was cold, shivering cold. It had been a warm September day when I hid inside the trunk, but the temperature now felt freezing. I dozed off or maybe fainted again, and next time I woke, I could see light seeping through the cracks. Now I felt hot, burning hot. I had to get out. I braced arms, back, legs, all hurting, against the lid and bottom of the trunk and heaved mightily. I think I broke the lock, but the pains washed over me and I fainted again.
The following period was a haze, I drifted, I soared, I was shivering with cold, then burning hot. Finally I returned to a semblance of normalcy and asked the old woman sitting beside my bed where I was.
"Shh!" she said, "Don't talk too much. You've been very ill for a long time. It's almost spring now. You're still in Riisbye."
I recognized the name of my grandparents' hamlet, even though there was something strange about her pronunciation of it. In fact all of her Danish sounded strange to my ears.
For some days still I was uninterested in the goings on of the world around me, I drank the soup given to me at regular interval, later augmented by small snippets of black bread, salty meat and wrinkly apples. But youth is a wonderful thing. One day I woke and felt more alive, I asked the old woman for the date. Her answer had my head spinning almost as bad as ever: "Today is Candlemass, February 2nd in the year of the Lord 1802."
1802! But I was born in 2002. She had to be a bit crazy. I asked her for a 'phone, and as she stared blankly at me I asked for a newspaper.
"We have not a new one," she said, "but the one from a week ago was given to the master yesterday. I'm sure he'll let you see it later on. Or I can get you the older one from the kitchen."
I told her that the older one would do just fine, and she returned with a slim volume in unevenly printed Fraktur. I fought my way through the strange letters. The paper had a pompous and very long name, which apart from the first part "Elsinoers royal ..." was beyond comprehension. It was from January 19th 1802. And the breaking news on the front page was something about a fleet commander now on his way to the West Indies and about armies aboard Dutch frigates. I tried reading on, but I fell asleep very soon.
When I woke up again it was bright daylight, and I began to notice my surroundings. Doonas made of coarse and striped fabric, in a bed of rough-hewn boards hung with curtains. Next to the bed a table, also made of coarse and well-worn timbers, a stool next to it and the cupboard against the opposite wall were matching. The window were tiny, the room small, and I would have to stoop to go through the door. I remembered seeing houses and furniture like this, in the open air museum I once visited with my old school.
Could I really have gone back in time?
... to be continued.
Heartbreak
Cheeseburger
Postcard
Aterlife
Beachcomb
I never used them for the story I wanted to write, and tonight I had a dream, a most vivid one. I'll try to do it justice in words:
We were visiting my grandparents, I was tired of life in general and family most of all. I just suffered my first real heartbreak. The apple of my eye, sweet Lucy of the laughing eyes and rosy cheeks had told me that I was a no good for nothing idler, that I drank too much, that I cared more about my motorbike than I did for her. It most certainly was not true. The only reason I had been tinkering with my bike when she came over was that it had broken down, and if I did not show up for work in the cheeseburger joint next afternoon, I would loose my job. I stopped the moment I saw her, but obviously I should just have sat around waiting for her doing whatever she did before showing up.
Of course they all tried cheering me up, but their talk of many fish in the sea and puppy love did nothing to brighten my day.
I was in no mood for anything, but the bevel of small cousins forced me into joining them in a game of hide and seek.
During the fourth or so round I had the brainwave of hiding inside one of the big, old-fashioned trunks in the barn. They belonged to my grandparents' mysterious lodger. The cousins living there told of his mad experiments, sometimes resulting in things going ka-boom in the middle of the night. He was kind of creepy, muttering foreign words to himself, tinkering in the old barn, and generally shunning our company.
Well I hid inside his biggest trunk. Suddenly it was snapped shut from the outside, and I felt it being hauled across the uneven barn floor still with me inside. I kept still, afraid of being scolded, discovered, whatever. Strange noises followed. And suddenly I felt the universe shatter. This was the best explanation I could find, Everything went black, blacker even than inside the trunk, then burst into coloured shards and swirls. And the sounds, indescribable screams, roars and booms reverberated through my head. I lost consciousness.
When I came to, I was still stuck in the trunk. I hurt all over, my head throbbed with every beat of my heart, and I was cold, shivering cold. It had been a warm September day when I hid inside the trunk, but the temperature now felt freezing. I dozed off or maybe fainted again, and next time I woke, I could see light seeping through the cracks. Now I felt hot, burning hot. I had to get out. I braced arms, back, legs, all hurting, against the lid and bottom of the trunk and heaved mightily. I think I broke the lock, but the pains washed over me and I fainted again.
The following period was a haze, I drifted, I soared, I was shivering with cold, then burning hot. Finally I returned to a semblance of normalcy and asked the old woman sitting beside my bed where I was.
"Shh!" she said, "Don't talk too much. You've been very ill for a long time. It's almost spring now. You're still in Riisbye."
I recognized the name of my grandparents' hamlet, even though there was something strange about her pronunciation of it. In fact all of her Danish sounded strange to my ears.
For some days still I was uninterested in the goings on of the world around me, I drank the soup given to me at regular interval, later augmented by small snippets of black bread, salty meat and wrinkly apples. But youth is a wonderful thing. One day I woke and felt more alive, I asked the old woman for the date. Her answer had my head spinning almost as bad as ever: "Today is Candlemass, February 2nd in the year of the Lord 1802."
1802! But I was born in 2002. She had to be a bit crazy. I asked her for a 'phone, and as she stared blankly at me I asked for a newspaper.
"We have not a new one," she said, "but the one from a week ago was given to the master yesterday. I'm sure he'll let you see it later on. Or I can get you the older one from the kitchen."
I told her that the older one would do just fine, and she returned with a slim volume in unevenly printed Fraktur. I fought my way through the strange letters. The paper had a pompous and very long name, which apart from the first part "Elsinoers royal ..." was beyond comprehension. It was from January 19th 1802. And the breaking news on the front page was something about a fleet commander now on his way to the West Indies and about armies aboard Dutch frigates. I tried reading on, but I fell asleep very soon.
When I woke up again it was bright daylight, and I began to notice my surroundings. Doonas made of coarse and striped fabric, in a bed of rough-hewn boards hung with curtains. Next to the bed a table, also made of coarse and well-worn timbers, a stool next to it and the cupboard against the opposite wall were matching. The window were tiny, the room small, and I would have to stoop to go through the door. I remembered seeing houses and furniture like this, in the open air museum I once visited with my old school.
Could I really have gone back in time?
... to be continued.
fredag den 16. januar 2026
Words for Wednesday :: Birch Manor - In Italy again
🪄
Wednesday we were given these Words, supplied byWiseWebWoman and to be found at River's blog:
Garrote
Kisses
Neck
Philanthropist
Pragmatism
and/or:
Balconies
Decadence
Entertainment
Genius
Public
I said that I found them too grown-uppish for Unicorn Farm, and they are, but I still have dangling story lines from later on.
What about a return to Italy and the mystery of the Lorenzoes?
The rather incoherent Chapters can be found on this blog:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Or in their entirety - and a bit corrected - on my dedicated Unicorn Farm/Birch Manor -blog
This piece is supposed to go between chapters 2 and 3.
On their way out from the library, Susan stopped in the front hall at the guest book. It too was old, and chained to the table in a mock up or the old books inside the library proper. Susan flipped through the pages, back to the very beginning of the book. It was old, maybe chained for a reason after all, of course it did not go all the way back to 1571, but the first posts in the book were over two centuries old.
One of the entries were strange, the names entwined and surrounded by a garrote. Susan could read only Medici, and called Knud over to aid her. He did no better, and a young assistant came running up to them. "This is a strange tale," he told them. "It's called the story of the stolen kisses, and in that tale one man loses his neck, and another his true love. It's a tale of true love, a disillusioned philanthropist and pragmatism leading to the ruin of them all."
In his fervour to speak to them and tell his tale, he toppled the inkwell and green ink cascaded down over Susan's backpack and the floor, luckily missing the old book totally.
He pulled out a handkerchief, and excusing profusely, and tried in vain to mop up the ink, only spreading it even more, and rubbing it into Susan's backpack. Knud curtly told him off and he and Susan hurried towards their lodgings in an old, decrepit palazzo nearby.
They hurried, taking a shortcut where the low hanging balconies were a danger for the tall Knud, and where the traces of decadence from past centuries normally were of great entertainment for them. Not so tonight.
"Genius," Susan spat out, "telling stories that sounds like something from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's pen and ruining my bag. Are they really mad all of the people at that library?"
"It's strange," Knud agreed, "it's public knowledge that the Medicis were a wicked bunch back in the days, so why all this cloak and dagger mysteries?"
Wednesday we were given these Words, supplied byWiseWebWoman and to be found at River's blog:
Garrote
Kisses
Neck
Philanthropist
Pragmatism
and/or:
Balconies
Decadence
Entertainment
Genius
Public
I said that I found them too grown-uppish for Unicorn Farm, and they are, but I still have dangling story lines from later on.
What about a return to Italy and the mystery of the Lorenzoes?
The rather incoherent Chapters can be found on this blog:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Or in their entirety - and a bit corrected - on my dedicated Unicorn Farm/Birch Manor -blog
This piece is supposed to go between chapters 2 and 3.
On their way out from the library, Susan stopped in the front hall at the guest book. It too was old, and chained to the table in a mock up or the old books inside the library proper. Susan flipped through the pages, back to the very beginning of the book. It was old, maybe chained for a reason after all, of course it did not go all the way back to 1571, but the first posts in the book were over two centuries old.
One of the entries were strange, the names entwined and surrounded by a garrote. Susan could read only Medici, and called Knud over to aid her. He did no better, and a young assistant came running up to them. "This is a strange tale," he told them. "It's called the story of the stolen kisses, and in that tale one man loses his neck, and another his true love. It's a tale of true love, a disillusioned philanthropist and pragmatism leading to the ruin of them all."
In his fervour to speak to them and tell his tale, he toppled the inkwell and green ink cascaded down over Susan's backpack and the floor, luckily missing the old book totally.
He pulled out a handkerchief, and excusing profusely, and tried in vain to mop up the ink, only spreading it even more, and rubbing it into Susan's backpack. Knud curtly told him off and he and Susan hurried towards their lodgings in an old, decrepit palazzo nearby.
They hurried, taking a shortcut where the low hanging balconies were a danger for the tall Knud, and where the traces of decadence from past centuries normally were of great entertainment for them. Not so tonight.
"Genius," Susan spat out, "telling stories that sounds like something from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's pen and ruining my bag. Are they really mad all of the people at that library?"
"It's strange," Knud agreed, "it's public knowledge that the Medicis were a wicked bunch back in the days, so why all this cloak and dagger mysteries?"
torsdag den 1. januar 2026
Words for Wednesday ~ December 31
A year late - or just a day. Today it amounts to the same. We had (still have) guests and grown kids visiting, but now in a quiet hour I suddenly felt like giving the Words a try.
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise it is still to be discerned who will take over this role, River is doing it for the rest of 2025, but maybe Lissa will eventually be our new coordinator.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are supplied byWiseWebWoman and can be found at River's blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
We were given these words:
Larch
Trifle
Multiple
Poteen (Irish Moonshine I Think)
And/Or:
Surprise
Quiche
Flag
Crossword
Poteen ... I just could not fit this one in. This chapter ends - maybe - the story of the hoopoe bird, it stems from the second year at the Farm, summer holidays, where the Farm had grown enough in magic to accommodate those of the apprentices not living near by. Susan of course stayed with Heidi and her family, who by then was more family than friends.
Susan kept on watching the nest of the Oop-bird, which she by now knew was called a hoopoe, but she did not always see it. Occasionally she saw a woodpecker in the larch tree nearby, occasionally a blackbirds or some sparrows. She had never before noticed for how many birds the woods and grasslands around Unicorn Farm were home, but it was way more than she could have guessed. She did not always know the official names of the birds she met, but she did not let such trifle stand in her way and simply invented names for the ones she did not know.
The hoopoe had had ten eggs in the nest, and one sunny day, Susan saw lots of dirty blue eggshell shards near the foot of the tree. The stench left not a trace of doubt. The hoopoe's eggs had hatched. She pulled her wand and soared upwards, and was greeted by the sight of multiple small but very long beaks peeping out from underneath mama hoopoe. This looked very funny, but Susan did not laugh until he was well away from the nest.
The stench was overpowering now at close quarters, and she hoped that the small hoopoes would be left alone by any bird-eaters in the vicinity.
Back at the Farm she was met with a surprise birthday party, they had asked the Nisser to bake her favourite quiche with chicken and mushrooms, a flag stood at her place at the table, and she was given small gifts, a birding book and a crossword magazine and some candy. Susan went to bed perfectly happy.
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise it is still to be discerned who will take over this role, River is doing it for the rest of 2025, but maybe Lissa will eventually be our new coordinator.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are supplied byWiseWebWoman and can be found at River's blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
We were given these words:
Larch
Trifle
Multiple
Poteen (Irish Moonshine I Think)
And/Or:
Surprise
Quiche
Flag
Crossword
Poteen ... I just could not fit this one in. This chapter ends - maybe - the story of the hoopoe bird, it stems from the second year at the Farm, summer holidays, where the Farm had grown enough in magic to accommodate those of the apprentices not living near by. Susan of course stayed with Heidi and her family, who by then was more family than friends.
Susan kept on watching the nest of the Oop-bird, which she by now knew was called a hoopoe, but she did not always see it. Occasionally she saw a woodpecker in the larch tree nearby, occasionally a blackbirds or some sparrows. She had never before noticed for how many birds the woods and grasslands around Unicorn Farm were home, but it was way more than she could have guessed. She did not always know the official names of the birds she met, but she did not let such trifle stand in her way and simply invented names for the ones she did not know.
The hoopoe had had ten eggs in the nest, and one sunny day, Susan saw lots of dirty blue eggshell shards near the foot of the tree. The stench left not a trace of doubt. The hoopoe's eggs had hatched. She pulled her wand and soared upwards, and was greeted by the sight of multiple small but very long beaks peeping out from underneath mama hoopoe. This looked very funny, but Susan did not laugh until he was well away from the nest.
The stench was overpowering now at close quarters, and she hoped that the small hoopoes would be left alone by any bird-eaters in the vicinity.
Back at the Farm she was met with a surprise birthday party, they had asked the Nisser to bake her favourite quiche with chicken and mushrooms, a flag stood at her place at the table, and she was given small gifts, a birding book and a crossword magazine and some candy. Susan went to bed perfectly happy.
onsdag den 3. december 2025
Words for Wednesday & IWSG
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually
taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise it is still to be discerned who will take over this role, River is doing it for the rest of 2025, but maybe Lissa will eventually be our new coordinator.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are again supplied byWiseWebWoman and can be found at River's blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
We were given these words:
Ambulance
Bluebell
Sacristy
Fountain
and/or:
Magnificent
Connemara
Castaway
Trumpet
I used the first set only, and as usual in the order they were given, to continue my tale of Susan and the strange bird.
Susan heard the siren of a far off ambulance, and remembered the "day of the Bluebells" when Kirstin fell and hurt her leg. At that day she had learned how to listen to bigger mammals, like cows and horses, and they were about to practice bird talking when Kirstin broke her leg, and the lesson was prematurely ended. They had not yet arrived at the subject again since, and remembering her bouts of synaesthesia after talking to toads*), Susan was loath to try bird talking unaided. But she had to do something, she had to try. The strange bird in front of her was seemingly agitated over something!
"Wait here!" she told the bird. It Oop'ed once, softly and seemed to understand. Susan ran down to the stable, where everything concerning animals, and everything too big to be placed elsewhere, and everything somebody might need during classes - in short almost every thing imaginable except books were kepi at the Unicorn Farm. Susan tiptoed to the corner where an old holy water fountain now contained their supply af scrying water. It still smelled of old books, incense and snuffed out candles from the small sacristy where she had helped fetch it. The smell made Susan feel better, more calm and with a thankful thought she opened a nearby cupboard an took one of the small bowls. Then she poured a tiny amount of water into it.
Quickly she returned to the bird in the deserted classroom. She took a deep breath, concentrated on the spell, the bird and the water. Then she swished her wand and said "Vötn tala" She looked at the bird, who began with its Oop-opp-opp once again. Susan looked at the water, she saw a series of pictures seen from a bird's eye. Big, grey wings nearing, the Oop-bird getting scared and leaving its nest with a big jump, then the eggs from the nest, falling to the ground, lying in the grass, getting cold! Susan understood the urgency and tried to tell the bird to lead her there. But it just went on screaming OOP-OOP-OOP, creating flickering pictures of grey wings, falling eggs and cold! in the water.
What now, Susan? Time will tell ...
*) If you're curious, the chapters are here: Synaesthesia & After the visit to the minister.
December 3 question - As a writer, what was one of the coolest/best gifts you ever received?
My reply - With the danger of repeating myself. The best gift, I was ever given was an old typewriter when I was around five years old. There was no special occasion, it was just old, decrepit rather, and my mother needed a new one. I was given the old one, and wrote away on it for years. I still regret throwing it out in a move.
You can see the typewriter and read a poem written in its honour here: My partner in Crime.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of coordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise it is still to be discerned who will take over this role, River is doing it for the rest of 2025, but maybe Lissa will eventually be our new coordinator.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are again supplied byWiseWebWoman and can be found at River's blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
We were given these words:
Ambulance
Bluebell
Sacristy
Fountain
and/or:
Magnificent
Connemara
Castaway
Trumpet
I used the first set only, and as usual in the order they were given, to continue my tale of Susan and the strange bird.
Susan heard the siren of a far off ambulance, and remembered the "day of the Bluebells" when Kirstin fell and hurt her leg. At that day she had learned how to listen to bigger mammals, like cows and horses, and they were about to practice bird talking when Kirstin broke her leg, and the lesson was prematurely ended. They had not yet arrived at the subject again since, and remembering her bouts of synaesthesia after talking to toads*), Susan was loath to try bird talking unaided. But she had to do something, she had to try. The strange bird in front of her was seemingly agitated over something!
"Wait here!" she told the bird. It Oop'ed once, softly and seemed to understand. Susan ran down to the stable, where everything concerning animals, and everything too big to be placed elsewhere, and everything somebody might need during classes - in short almost every thing imaginable except books were kepi at the Unicorn Farm. Susan tiptoed to the corner where an old holy water fountain now contained their supply af scrying water. It still smelled of old books, incense and snuffed out candles from the small sacristy where she had helped fetch it. The smell made Susan feel better, more calm and with a thankful thought she opened a nearby cupboard an took one of the small bowls. Then she poured a tiny amount of water into it.
Quickly she returned to the bird in the deserted classroom. She took a deep breath, concentrated on the spell, the bird and the water. Then she swished her wand and said "Vötn tala" She looked at the bird, who began with its Oop-opp-opp once again. Susan looked at the water, she saw a series of pictures seen from a bird's eye. Big, grey wings nearing, the Oop-bird getting scared and leaving its nest with a big jump, then the eggs from the nest, falling to the ground, lying in the grass, getting cold! Susan understood the urgency and tried to tell the bird to lead her there. But it just went on screaming OOP-OOP-OOP, creating flickering pictures of grey wings, falling eggs and cold! in the water.
What now, Susan? Time will tell ...
*) If you're curious, the chapters are here: Synaesthesia & After the visit to the minister.
- - A - - B - - C - -
December 3 question - As a writer, what was one of the coolest/best gifts you ever received?My reply - With the danger of repeating myself. The best gift, I was ever given was an old typewriter when I was around five years old. There was no special occasion, it was just old, decrepit rather, and my mother needed a new one. I was given the old one, and wrote away on it for years. I still regret throwing it out in a move.
You can see the typewriter and read a poem written in its honour here: My partner in Crime.
onsdag den 26. november 2025
Words for Wednesday ~ November 26
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually
taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of co-ordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise River at Drifting through Life has taken over as our new coordinator. Thanks!
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are again supplied by Sean Jeating, who thankfully stepped in when our regular supplier was MIA, and can be found at River's blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
We were given these words:
Bird
Window.
Wings
Span
Open
and/or:
Time
World
Laugh
All
Get
The words led me astray. I had sworn not to. I started a new story about Susan. Earlier; I thought I did so because Elephant's Child urged me on. Now I don't know any more ... Maybe she still does. Sometimes I felt like I wrote my stories for her alone, when time were tough and hot in Australia. ... I still miss her gentle presence in the blogosphere ...
A bird was pecking at the window. At first Susan did not notice, busy as she was with today's assignment on transformational magic and herbs. But as the poor creature beat its wings in time with the pecking, Susan noticed the sound. She looked up, and in the short span of time she noticed that it was a bird, she had never seen before and then a span of great, grey wings hovering in the near background. She jumped up and opened the window.
Now she had all the time in the world to look at the bird. It sure was a strange one. A bit larger that a blackbird, but cinnamon coloured, with black and white banded wings, a long, slender beak and a feather crest reminding Susan of a stegosaurus. The bird folded its crest onto a long, tapering plume with a black end. It looked at Susan with one of its black eye, then turned its head and looked with the other eye.
Then it opened its beak and squawked Oop-oop-oop.
Susan did not laugh at it, but she smiled widely. "What did you say?" was all she managed. Once again the bird opened its beak
"OOP-OOP-OOP!" it said loudly, clearly impatient now.
"Sorry bird, Susan said, " I don't get it."
And as always now having used all the words in the order they were given, this is where I stop and hope to continue next Wednesday.
The bird in this chapter is an Eurasian hoopoe, a rare guest in Denmark. and the bird of the day on my Birds of Denmark calendar day before yesterday - today it's the blackbird.
Bloglegen Words for Wednesday blev startet af Delores og udviklede sig til en flytbar fest med mange deltagere, der leverede ordene. Da Delores lukkede sin blog for altid på grund af diverse problemer, overtog Elephant's Child (Sue) rollen som koordinator.
Nu, efter Sues bortgang, er det stadig uklart, hvem der vil overtage denne rolle. River gør det i resten af 2025, men måske bliver Lissa vores nye koordinator.
Uanset hvad, hvordan, hvor eller hvem, er målet med ordene at opmuntre os til at skrive. En historie, et digt, hvad end der kommer os i tankerne.
Denne måneds ord bliver leveret af Sean Jeating og kan findes på Rivers blog.
Hvis du poster et indlæg på din egen blog, så skriv en kommentar på Rivers blog, så vi kan komme forbi og læse det og tilføje et par opmuntrende ord.
Det er også en udfordring, hvor det gamle ordsprog "Jo flere, jo bedre" holder stik.
Så husk at følge linkene, gå tilbage og læse andres historier. Og skriv gerne en kommentar, når du har læst dem. Udfordringer som denne trives med interaktion, feedback og opmuntring. Og vi har ALLE brug for opmuntring.
Vi fik disse ord:
Fugl
Vindue
Vinger
Spændvidde, vingefang, omfatte,
Åben, åbne, åbn
og/eller:
Tid, gange
Verden
Latter
Alt
Få, fatte, forstå
Ordene lokkede mig. Jeg havde lovet mig selv ikke at gøre det. Men ... jeg begyndte på en ny historie om Susan. Tidligere troede jeg, at jeg gjorde det, fordi Elephant's Child ansporede mig. Nu er jeg ikke sikker ... Måske gør hun det stadig. Nogle gange følte jeg, at jeg skrev mine historier kun for hende, når tiderne var hårde og varme i Australien. ... Hendes stille - eller ikke såå stille entusiasme var nogen gange nok til at bringe mig til tasterne.
Jeg savner stadig hendes blide tilstedeværelse i blogosfæren ...
Eftersom jeg skriver på engelsk først, og så oversætter til/gendigter på dansk, er nogle af stikordenen uigenkendelige. For eksempel span i dette afsnit. Jeg oversætter det med vingefang, spændvidde eller omfatte, men det kan også bruges om tid, ligesom det gamle danske et spand af år. Det blev bare til i det korte øjeblik på dansk.
En fugl hakkede på vinduet. Først bemærkede Susan det ikke, hun var opslugt af dagens opgave om transformationsmagi og magiske urter. Men da det stakkels dyr også begyndte at slå med vingerne i takt med sin hakken, bemærkede Susan lyden. Hun kiggede op, og i det korte øjeblik, det tog hende at bemærke, at det var en fugl, hun aldrig havde set før, så hun også et par store, grå vinger i baggrunden. Hun sprang op og åbnede vinduet.
Nu havde hun god tid til at se på fuglen. Det var en meget underlig fugl. Lidt større end en solsort, men kanelfarvet, med sort- og hvidstribede vinger, et langt, slankt næb og en fjerkrone, der mindede Susan om en stegosaurus eller en punker. Fuglen klappede sin fjerkrone sammen til en lang, pids fjerting med en sort ende. Den kiggede på Susan med det ene sorte øje, vendte derefter hovedet og kiggede med det andet øje.
Så åbnede den næbbet og skreg Uup-uup-uup.
Susan lo ikke ad den, men hun smilede bredt. »Hvad sagde du?« var alt, hvad hun fik frem. Fuglen åbnede igen næbbet
»UUP-UUP-UUP!« sagde den højt og tydeligvis utålmodig.
»Undskyld, fugl,« sagde Susan, »det forstår jeg ikke.«
Og som altid, nu hvor jeg har brugt alle ordene i den rækkefølge, de blev givet, stopper jeg her og håber at kunne fortsætte næste onsdag.
Fuglen i dette kapitel er en hærfugl, en sjælden gæst i Danmark og fuglen i min kalender »Danmarks fugle« i mandags. I dag har vi en solsort.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of co-ordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise River at Drifting through Life has taken over as our new coordinator. Thanks!
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are again supplied by Sean Jeating, who thankfully stepped in when our regular supplier was MIA, and can be found at River's blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
We were given these words:
Bird
Window.
Wings
Span
Open
and/or:
Time
World
Laugh
All
Get
The words led me astray. I had sworn not to. I started a new story about Susan. Earlier; I thought I did so because Elephant's Child urged me on. Now I don't know any more ... Maybe she still does. Sometimes I felt like I wrote my stories for her alone, when time were tough and hot in Australia. ... I still miss her gentle presence in the blogosphere ...
A bird was pecking at the window. At first Susan did not notice, busy as she was with today's assignment on transformational magic and herbs. But as the poor creature beat its wings in time with the pecking, Susan noticed the sound. She looked up, and in the short span of time she noticed that it was a bird, she had never seen before and then a span of great, grey wings hovering in the near background. She jumped up and opened the window.
Now she had all the time in the world to look at the bird. It sure was a strange one. A bit larger that a blackbird, but cinnamon coloured, with black and white banded wings, a long, slender beak and a feather crest reminding Susan of a stegosaurus. The bird folded its crest onto a long, tapering plume with a black end. It looked at Susan with one of its black eye, then turned its head and looked with the other eye.
Then it opened its beak and squawked Oop-oop-oop.
Susan did not laugh at it, but she smiled widely. "What did you say?" was all she managed. Once again the bird opened its beak
"OOP-OOP-OOP!" it said loudly, clearly impatient now.
"Sorry bird, Susan said, " I don't get it."
And as always now having used all the words in the order they were given, this is where I stop and hope to continue next Wednesday.
The bird in this chapter is an Eurasian hoopoe, a rare guest in Denmark. and the bird of the day on my Birds of Denmark calendar day before yesterday - today it's the blackbird.
- - A - - B - - C - -
Bloglegen Words for Wednesday blev startet af Delores og udviklede sig til en flytbar fest med mange deltagere, der leverede ordene. Da Delores lukkede sin blog for altid på grund af diverse problemer, overtog Elephant's Child (Sue) rollen som koordinator.
Nu, efter Sues bortgang, er det stadig uklart, hvem der vil overtage denne rolle. River gør det i resten af 2025, men måske bliver Lissa vores nye koordinator.
Uanset hvad, hvordan, hvor eller hvem, er målet med ordene at opmuntre os til at skrive. En historie, et digt, hvad end der kommer os i tankerne.
Denne måneds ord bliver leveret af Sean Jeating og kan findes på Rivers blog.
Hvis du poster et indlæg på din egen blog, så skriv en kommentar på Rivers blog, så vi kan komme forbi og læse det og tilføje et par opmuntrende ord.
Det er også en udfordring, hvor det gamle ordsprog "Jo flere, jo bedre" holder stik.
Så husk at følge linkene, gå tilbage og læse andres historier. Og skriv gerne en kommentar, når du har læst dem. Udfordringer som denne trives med interaktion, feedback og opmuntring. Og vi har ALLE brug for opmuntring.
Vi fik disse ord:
Fugl
Vindue
Vinger
Spændvidde, vingefang, omfatte,
Åben, åbne, åbn
og/eller:
Tid, gange
Verden
Latter
Alt
Få, fatte, forstå
Ordene lokkede mig. Jeg havde lovet mig selv ikke at gøre det. Men ... jeg begyndte på en ny historie om Susan. Tidligere troede jeg, at jeg gjorde det, fordi Elephant's Child ansporede mig. Nu er jeg ikke sikker ... Måske gør hun det stadig. Nogle gange følte jeg, at jeg skrev mine historier kun for hende, når tiderne var hårde og varme i Australien. ... Hendes stille - eller ikke såå stille entusiasme var nogen gange nok til at bringe mig til tasterne.
Jeg savner stadig hendes blide tilstedeværelse i blogosfæren ...
Eftersom jeg skriver på engelsk først, og så oversætter til/gendigter på dansk, er nogle af stikordenen uigenkendelige. For eksempel span i dette afsnit. Jeg oversætter det med vingefang, spændvidde eller omfatte, men det kan også bruges om tid, ligesom det gamle danske et spand af år. Det blev bare til i det korte øjeblik på dansk.
En fugl hakkede på vinduet. Først bemærkede Susan det ikke, hun var opslugt af dagens opgave om transformationsmagi og magiske urter. Men da det stakkels dyr også begyndte at slå med vingerne i takt med sin hakken, bemærkede Susan lyden. Hun kiggede op, og i det korte øjeblik, det tog hende at bemærke, at det var en fugl, hun aldrig havde set før, så hun også et par store, grå vinger i baggrunden. Hun sprang op og åbnede vinduet.
Nu havde hun god tid til at se på fuglen. Det var en meget underlig fugl. Lidt større end en solsort, men kanelfarvet, med sort- og hvidstribede vinger, et langt, slankt næb og en fjerkrone, der mindede Susan om en stegosaurus eller en punker. Fuglen klappede sin fjerkrone sammen til en lang, pids fjerting med en sort ende. Den kiggede på Susan med det ene sorte øje, vendte derefter hovedet og kiggede med det andet øje.
Så åbnede den næbbet og skreg Uup-uup-uup.
Susan lo ikke ad den, men hun smilede bredt. »Hvad sagde du?« var alt, hvad hun fik frem. Fuglen åbnede igen næbbet
»UUP-UUP-UUP!« sagde den højt og tydeligvis utålmodig.
»Undskyld, fugl,« sagde Susan, »det forstår jeg ikke.«
Og som altid, nu hvor jeg har brugt alle ordene i den rækkefølge, de blev givet, stopper jeg her og håber at kunne fortsætte næste onsdag.
Fuglen i dette kapitel er en hærfugl, en sjælden gæst i Danmark og fuglen i min kalender »Danmarks fugle« i mandags. I dag har vi en solsort.
onsdag den 22. oktober 2025
Words for Wednesday (Blogtober 22)
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually
taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of co-ordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise it is still to be discerned who will take over this role, River is doing it for the rest of 2025, but maybe Lissa will eventually be our new coordinator.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are supplied by Sean Jeating and can be found at River's blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
We were given these words: When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of co-ordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise it is still to be discerned who will take over this role, River is doing it for the rest of 2025, but maybe Lissa will eventually be our new coordinator.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are supplied by Sean Jeating and can be found at River's blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
Innocent
Evil
Face
Expanding
Born
and/or:
Come
Surprise
Planet
Minor
Follow
In my endeavour to end - or at least continue - some of my dangling ends, I found these words to fit my old broomracing storyline (which can be found on my Unicorn Farms blog HERE).
"Is he just a stupid braggart, and thus innocent or is he actually evil?" Susan asked. She was of course talking of David, and she looked around at her co-conspirators: Veronika, Heidi, Tage, Lis, Fiona, My, Marit, Astrid and Olav. In every one of their faces Susan saw the same judgement as her own, Evil. Still she felt the need to be expanding on her accusation.
"He think that it's your family, and by whom you're born, that makes you a witch or a wizard," she said. "And he cannot seem to conceal that it comes a a surprise to him every single time I summon a creature, that Veronika can fly as well as him, that Monica is better than him at brewing even the more complex potions, or that Jouka can detect his lies and so on ... " Susan drew a deep breath, and Lis took over. "I can't feel it the way you do," Lis admitted, "being born into a family of wizards from the dawn of times is like coming from another planet here. But still I agree. He is evil. It's obvious even in the minor things he does, like encouraging Josh's resentment towards his older sibling, or always asking Bjørn to follow him, making him feel even more inferior, or maybe making himself feel better, because Bjørn is so obviously inept at anything that's not flying, and there David is a natural talent, we have to admit this."
"Well and good," Tage, her twin brother added, "but what are we going to do? He spoiled the race with all his potions and hexes, and he should have been expelled, but he got away with minimal punishment."
"I do believe that the professors let him off so easily because Torben promised to keep an eye on him," Lis explained, "but I think - we think" she added seeing Susan's angry mien, "We think that Torben is as bad as David, and we don't stand a chance to stop him from harassing the weaker ones."
... and now what? I hope to continue this story next Wednesday.
- - A - - B - - C - -
Bloglegen Words for Wednesday blev startet af Delores og udviklede sig til en flytbar fest med mange deltagere, der leverede ordene. Da Delores lukkede sin blog for altid på grund af diverse problemer, overtog Elephant's Child (Sue) rollen som koordinator.
Nu, efter Sues bortgang, er det stadig uklart, hvem der vil overtage denne rolle. River gør det i resten af 2025, men måske bliver Lissa vores nye koordinator.
Uanset hvad, hvordan, hvor eller hvem, er målet med ordene at opmuntre os til at skrive. En historie, et digt, hvad end der kommer os i tankerne.
Denne måneds ord bliver leveret af Sean Jeating og kan findes på Rivers blog.
Hvis du poster et indlæg på din egen blog, så skriv en kommentar på Rivers blog, så vi kan komme forbi og læse det og tilføje et par opmuntrende ord.
Det er også en udfordring, hvor det gamle ordsprog "Jo flere, jo bedre« holder stik.
Så husk at følge linkene, gå tilbage og læse andres historier. Og skriv gerne en kommentar, når du har læst dem. Udfordringer som denne trives med interaktion, feedback og opmuntring. Og vi har ALLE brug for opmuntring.
Vi fik disse ord:
Innocent - uskyldig
Evil - ond
Face - ansigt
Expanding - voksende / udvidende
Born - født
Eller/og
Come - kom / komme
Surprise - overraskelse
Planet - planet
Minor - mol / mindre / ubetydelig
Follow - følge
I mine bestræbelser på at afslutte - eller i det mindste skrive videre på alle de uafsluttede historier, jeg har liggende, fandt jeg ud af at de her ord passede til noget af efterspillet efter kostevæddeløbet. Hele den historie kan findes HER på engelsk.
"Er han bare en dum pralhals og dermed uskyldig, eller er han faktisk ond?« spurgte Susan. Hun talte selvfølgelig om David og så sig omkring på sine medsammensvorne: Veronika, Heidi, Tage, Lis, Fiona, My, Marit, Astrid og Olav. I alle deres ansigter så Susan den samme dom som sin egen: Ond. Alligevel følte hun behov for at uddybe sin anklage.
"Han tror, at det er din familie og hvem du er født af, der gør dig til en heks eller en troldmand,« sagde hun. "Og han kan ikke skjule, at det kommer som en overraskelse for ham hver eneste gang, jeg kan tilkalde et dyr, at Veronika kan flyve lige så godt som ham, at Monica er bedre end ham til at brygge selv de mest indviklede trylledrikke, eller at Jouka kan afsløre hans løgne og så videre ..." Susan sukkede dybt, og Lis fortsatte: "Jeg kan ikke føle det sådan som du gør det," indrømmede Lis, "at være født ind i en familie der har været troldmænd siden tidernes morgen er som at komme fra en anden planet her. Men jeg er stadig enig. Han er ond. Det er tydeligt selv i de små ting, han gør, som at opmuntre Joshs vrede mod sin ældre søskende, altid bede Bjørn om at følge efter ham, få ham til at føle sig endnu mere underlegen,eller måske få sig selv til at føle sig bedre, fordi Bjørn er så åbenlyst uduelig til alt, der ikke er at flyve, og der er David er et naturtalent, det må vi indrømme."
"Det er jo rigtigt nok," fortsatte Tage, hendes tvillingebror, "men hvad skal vi gøre? Han ødelagde kostevæddeløbet med alle sine trylledrikke og forbandelser, og han burde være blevet bortvist, men han slap med slap med en minimal straf."
"Jeg tror, at professorerne lod ham slippe så let, fordi Torben lovede at holde øje med ham," forklarede Lis, "men jeg tror - vi tror," rettede hun sig selv, da hun så Susans vrede blik, "vi tror, at Torben er lige så slem som David, og vi har ikke en chance for at forhindre ham i at chikanere de svagere."
Og hvad sker der nu? Jeg håber, historien fortsætter næste onsdag.
onsdag den 15. oktober 2025
Words for Wednesday (Blogtober 15)
Scroll ned for dansk
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of co-ordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise it is still to be discerned who will take over this role, River is doing it for the rest of 2025, but maybe Lissa will eventually be our new coordinator.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are supplied by Sean Jeating and can be found at River's blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
We were given these words:
Instruction
Stupidity
Ignorant
Disregards
Joined
and/or:
Shy
Not
Means
From
Destruction
I'm still grumpy, mean-tempered and impatient. I visited the dentist once again, got temporary repairs and a new appointment in a week. This is tiring. Plus the crick in my neck is acting up again, making me dizzy and beside myself. What a way to spend a nice, sunny autumn holiday. Sigh. grumpy story too. Read at your own risk.
No matter how clear and detailed instructions you're given, stupidity can ruin everything. The ignorant, Sanne, disregards every step by step guide and flies to the last step in the manual, where the parts are joined.
But because she disregarded several of the intermediate steps, the longest part is half an inch shy of the required measurements and the shorter parts are equally too long, and no matter how much she swears, they are not going to fit together.This means that in the end she will have to give up, and dismantle all the parts and start over from the beginning once again, a small destruction to her blown up ego.
Bloglegen Words for Wednesday blev startet af Delores og udviklede sig til en flytbar fest med mange deltagere, der leverede ordene. Da Delores lukkede sin blog for altid på grund af diverse problemer, overtog Elephant's Child (Sue) rollen som koordinator.
Nu, efter Sues bortgang, er det stadig uklart, hvem der vil overtage denne rolle. River gør det i resten af 2025, men måske bliver Lissa vores nye koordinator.
Uanset hvad, hvordan, hvor eller hvem, er målet med ordene at opmuntre os til at skrive. En historie, et digt, hvad end der kommer os i tankerne.
Denne måneds ord bliver leveret af Sean Jeating og kan findes på Rivers blog.
Hvis du poster et indlæg på din egen blog, så skriv en kommentar på Rivers blog, så vi kan komme forbi og læse det og tilføje et par opmuntrende ord.
Det er også en udfordring, hvor det gamle ordsprog »Jo flere, jo bedre« holder stik.
Så husk at følge linkene, gå tilbage og læse andres historier. Og skriv gerne en kommentar, når du har læst dem. Udfordringer som denne trives med interaktion, feedback og opmuntring. Og vi har ALLE brug for opmuntring.
Vi fik disse ord:
Instruction - Instruktion
Stupidity - dumhed, idioti
Ignorant - uvidende, ubegavet
Disregards - ignorere, se bort fra
Joined - samlet, forenede
og/eller:
Shy - sky, genert, mangle
Not - ikke
Means - betyder, midler
From - fra
Destruction - destruktion, ødelæggelse
Jeg er stadig gnaven, i dårligt humør og utålmodig. Jeg var hos tandlægen igen, fik en midlertidig reparation og en ny tid om en uge. Det er trættende. Desuden plager min dumme nakke mig igen, og gør mig svimmel og utilpas. Sikke en måde at tilbringe en dejlig, solrig efterårsferie på. Suk. Det er altså også en gnaven historie. Læs den på egen risiko.
Uanset hvor klare og detaljerede instruktioner man får, kan dumhed ødelægge alt. Den ubegavede Sanne ignorered alle trin-for-trin-vejledninger og sprang til det sidste trin i vejledningen, hvor delene blev samlet.
Men fordi hun havde ignoreret flere af de mellemliggende trin, manglede den længste del en halv tomme for at passe til de opgivne mål, og de korte dele er lige så meget for lange. Uanset hvor meget hun bander og sværger, passer det ikke sammen. Det betyder, at hun i sidste ende bliver nødt til at give op og skille det hele ad igen og starte forfra fra begyndelsen. Det føler hun som et nederlag og en lille ødelæggelse for hendes oppustede ego.
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of co-ordinator.
Now, after Sue's demise it is still to be discerned who will take over this role, River is doing it for the rest of 2025, but maybe Lissa will eventually be our new coordinator.
No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.
This month the words are supplied by Sean Jeating and can be found at River's blog.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.
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.
We were given these words:
Instruction
Stupidity
Ignorant
Disregards
Joined
and/or:
Shy
Not
Means
From
Destruction
I'm still grumpy, mean-tempered and impatient. I visited the dentist once again, got temporary repairs and a new appointment in a week. This is tiring. Plus the crick in my neck is acting up again, making me dizzy and beside myself. What a way to spend a nice, sunny autumn holiday. Sigh. grumpy story too. Read at your own risk.
No matter how clear and detailed instructions you're given, stupidity can ruin everything. The ignorant, Sanne, disregards every step by step guide and flies to the last step in the manual, where the parts are joined.
But because she disregarded several of the intermediate steps, the longest part is half an inch shy of the required measurements and the shorter parts are equally too long, and no matter how much she swears, they are not going to fit together.This means that in the end she will have to give up, and dismantle all the parts and start over from the beginning once again, a small destruction to her blown up ego.
- - A - - B - - C - -
Bloglegen Words for Wednesday blev startet af Delores og udviklede sig til en flytbar fest med mange deltagere, der leverede ordene. Da Delores lukkede sin blog for altid på grund af diverse problemer, overtog Elephant's Child (Sue) rollen som koordinator.
Nu, efter Sues bortgang, er det stadig uklart, hvem der vil overtage denne rolle. River gør det i resten af 2025, men måske bliver Lissa vores nye koordinator.
Uanset hvad, hvordan, hvor eller hvem, er målet med ordene at opmuntre os til at skrive. En historie, et digt, hvad end der kommer os i tankerne.
Denne måneds ord bliver leveret af Sean Jeating og kan findes på Rivers blog.
Hvis du poster et indlæg på din egen blog, så skriv en kommentar på Rivers blog, så vi kan komme forbi og læse det og tilføje et par opmuntrende ord.
Det er også en udfordring, hvor det gamle ordsprog »Jo flere, jo bedre« holder stik.
Så husk at følge linkene, gå tilbage og læse andres historier. Og skriv gerne en kommentar, når du har læst dem. Udfordringer som denne trives med interaktion, feedback og opmuntring. Og vi har ALLE brug for opmuntring.
Vi fik disse ord:
Instruction - Instruktion
Stupidity - dumhed, idioti
Ignorant - uvidende, ubegavet
Disregards - ignorere, se bort fra
Joined - samlet, forenede
og/eller:
Shy - sky, genert, mangle
Not - ikke
Means - betyder, midler
From - fra
Destruction - destruktion, ødelæggelse
Jeg er stadig gnaven, i dårligt humør og utålmodig. Jeg var hos tandlægen igen, fik en midlertidig reparation og en ny tid om en uge. Det er trættende. Desuden plager min dumme nakke mig igen, og gør mig svimmel og utilpas. Sikke en måde at tilbringe en dejlig, solrig efterårsferie på. Suk. Det er altså også en gnaven historie. Læs den på egen risiko.
Uanset hvor klare og detaljerede instruktioner man får, kan dumhed ødelægge alt. Den ubegavede Sanne ignorered alle trin-for-trin-vejledninger og sprang til det sidste trin i vejledningen, hvor delene blev samlet.
Men fordi hun havde ignoreret flere af de mellemliggende trin, manglede den længste del en halv tomme for at passe til de opgivne mål, og de korte dele er lige så meget for lange. Uanset hvor meget hun bander og sværger, passer det ikke sammen. Det betyder, at hun i sidste ende bliver nødt til at give op og skille det hele ad igen og starte forfra fra begyndelsen. Det føler hun som et nederlag og en lille ødelæggelse for hendes oppustede ego.
mandag den 13. oktober 2025
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?
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
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
tirsdag den 22. juli 2025
Find Familiars 7 ~ Trying to use up the Words
I still have these words left over from Wednesday's words:
Party
Note
Faucet
Jelly
Leather
Books
and then the infamous Bellowcat from last Wednesday. Let me see if I can end the story with these words.
I continue my story from previous chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6.
Back to Trausti and his talk on Familiars:
"Also," Trausti continued, "not all Familiars are nice." He whistled another tune, and a very big bat flew in through the window and landed on the table and rubbed it's big, gargoyle-like head on Trausti's gloved hand. It was almost a third of Trausti's size, and so ugly that it was almost cute. Most of the apprentices could not help laughing.
"This male hammer headed bat comes from Africa," he said. "How it ended up here, I have no idea. I fetched it in a big banana crate in a supermarket, where it scared the man opening up the crate. A logical place for it to hide, as it's a fruit eater, living mainly from figs, mangoes and bananas." He looked at the apprentices, who were most of them studying the creature with interest. "The downsides? I can see you think. Apart from the size and the claws to fit this size, they are nocturnal and extremely noisy during their active period. And here we have another uncouth specimen. A giant cat-like creature approached Trausti, rubbing its head against his trousered leg. Suddenly the cat began breathing rapidly, panting like a bellows and expanding. Then it opened its maw, a gigantic, pink abyss. It raised its head, and Trausti quickly drew his wand, pointed it at the now enormously swollen cat and screamed: "haltu kjafti!"
Thora looked at him in disgust: "That's not a nice spell to use in front of the apprentices! Was that really necessary?"
Trausti looked squarely at her: "That was a Bellowcat. A few seconds more and we would all have been deaf. I thought she was a Sweller, she has never bellowed before." Trausti bent and examined the flaccid cat. He blanched, stood up and continued: "Any questions?"
There were a few, mostly variations of Will we ever get a Familiar, and What are Bellowcats and Swellers.
After listening to their questions, Trausti answered:
"Will you ever get a Familiar? Only time will tell. Once you're a true witch or wizard, you can begin looking for one. Or more possible the Familiar will find you. I think this is one of the subjects Gylfi has in mind for next year's curriculum." He looked at Gylfi, who nodded.
"Then to Swellers and Bellowcats. Bellowcats are an under-species of Swellers, at least that's what I have found out from studies. Swellers are cats that can increase their size by inhaling air, then they can soar by letting out the air slowly. They kind of fly, like a balloon where you let out the air. They are fun, and it can be a great help for the cat to get somewhere they cannot climb. They are able to steer, partly using their tail, partly by controlling the outlet of air. It takes training for a Sweller to become good at it. It is not a practical thing inside a house, notwithstanding any cat's natural ability to not break or turn over any object, and always land on their paws, flying cats are not a thing to bring into your living room. Bellowcats are a subspecies. They breath in the air rhythmically, like bellows, like what you saw earlier, instead of the steadier intake of Swellers. And instead of using the airflow for flying, they let out the air in one, big MEOW, loud enough to make anybody at close quarters deaf, break the window panes and any other glass nearby, and sometimes even killing the bellowcat himself. Normally Bellowcats are male and Swellers female, although male Swellers are sometimes found. They can interbreed with normal cats of any species, fortunately they generally limit themselves to housecats - fortunately for the world at large. Just imagine a lion-sized, or even a panther sized Bellowcat.
The apprentices left, discussing Familiars and strange cats in small groups. Susan went out in the dark evening with Heidi, Lis and Tage, it was crisp and cold, with a hint of snow in the air. "I forgot my notebook," Susan said, "wait for me please, it'll only be a second." She ran back into the Barn, and overheard Gylfi's, "... but it's female!" before he fell quiet. Susan excused herself, grasped the notebook and hurried back to her friends.
Party
Note
Faucet
Jelly
Leather
Books
and then the infamous Bellowcat from last Wednesday. Let me see if I can end the story with these words.
I continue my story from previous chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6.
Back to Trausti and his talk on Familiars:
"Also," Trausti continued, "not all Familiars are nice." He whistled another tune, and a very big bat flew in through the window and landed on the table and rubbed it's big, gargoyle-like head on Trausti's gloved hand. It was almost a third of Trausti's size, and so ugly that it was almost cute. Most of the apprentices could not help laughing.
"This male hammer headed bat comes from Africa," he said. "How it ended up here, I have no idea. I fetched it in a big banana crate in a supermarket, where it scared the man opening up the crate. A logical place for it to hide, as it's a fruit eater, living mainly from figs, mangoes and bananas." He looked at the apprentices, who were most of them studying the creature with interest. "The downsides? I can see you think. Apart from the size and the claws to fit this size, they are nocturnal and extremely noisy during their active period. And here we have another uncouth specimen. A giant cat-like creature approached Trausti, rubbing its head against his trousered leg. Suddenly the cat began breathing rapidly, panting like a bellows and expanding. Then it opened its maw, a gigantic, pink abyss. It raised its head, and Trausti quickly drew his wand, pointed it at the now enormously swollen cat and screamed: "haltu kjafti!"
Thora looked at him in disgust: "That's not a nice spell to use in front of the apprentices! Was that really necessary?"
Trausti looked squarely at her: "That was a Bellowcat. A few seconds more and we would all have been deaf. I thought she was a Sweller, she has never bellowed before." Trausti bent and examined the flaccid cat. He blanched, stood up and continued: "Any questions?"
There were a few, mostly variations of Will we ever get a Familiar, and What are Bellowcats and Swellers.
After listening to their questions, Trausti answered:
"Will you ever get a Familiar? Only time will tell. Once you're a true witch or wizard, you can begin looking for one. Or more possible the Familiar will find you. I think this is one of the subjects Gylfi has in mind for next year's curriculum." He looked at Gylfi, who nodded.
"Then to Swellers and Bellowcats. Bellowcats are an under-species of Swellers, at least that's what I have found out from studies. Swellers are cats that can increase their size by inhaling air, then they can soar by letting out the air slowly. They kind of fly, like a balloon where you let out the air. They are fun, and it can be a great help for the cat to get somewhere they cannot climb. They are able to steer, partly using their tail, partly by controlling the outlet of air. It takes training for a Sweller to become good at it. It is not a practical thing inside a house, notwithstanding any cat's natural ability to not break or turn over any object, and always land on their paws, flying cats are not a thing to bring into your living room. Bellowcats are a subspecies. They breath in the air rhythmically, like bellows, like what you saw earlier, instead of the steadier intake of Swellers. And instead of using the airflow for flying, they let out the air in one, big MEOW, loud enough to make anybody at close quarters deaf, break the window panes and any other glass nearby, and sometimes even killing the bellowcat himself. Normally Bellowcats are male and Swellers female, although male Swellers are sometimes found. They can interbreed with normal cats of any species, fortunately they generally limit themselves to housecats - fortunately for the world at large. Just imagine a lion-sized, or even a panther sized Bellowcat.
The apprentices left, discussing Familiars and strange cats in small groups. Susan went out in the dark evening with Heidi, Lis and Tage, it was crisp and cold, with a hint of snow in the air. "I forgot my notebook," Susan said, "wait for me please, it'll only be a second." She ran back into the Barn, and overheard Gylfi's, "... but it's female!" before he fell quiet. Susan excused herself, grasped the notebook and hurried back to her friends.
Curiouser and curiouser ... maybe to be continued.
You might say I used Note and Book
else I only got rid of Bellowcat
let's see what happens tomorrow.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
* This means shut up, but its very rude, more like shut the bloody F... up!
You might say I used Note and Book
else I only got rid of Bellowcat
let's see what happens tomorrow.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
* This means shut up, but its very rude, more like shut the bloody F... up!
onsdag den 9. juli 2025
Words for Wednesday :: Find Familiars 5
Sort
Pollution
Crooked
Learned
Wanting
Industry
And/or
Education
Colour
Withdraw
Coach
Bellow
Cat
Yes Bellow and Cat were meant as two words ... I might give Bellowcat a try 😉
I continue my story from previous chapters 1, 2, 3, and 4
Susan got her problems sorted out before dinner. Dressed in a fresh tunic and skirt, she ate with the other Danes, Trausti sat with the Icelanders, enjoying the food and speaking freely with everybody. The only pollution to the good atmosphere was David's crooked friend. Susan had learned by trial and error which subjects to avoid, and so had most of the other apprentices, only the Norwegian Terje, who was a bit wanting in attention, could now and then spark an uncouth discussion over the plates.
When everybody was done eating, Jon rang the bell and asked the apprentices to re-arrange benches and tables so that everyone could sit facing the balcony in the western end of the Barn. Soon the barn was a hive of industry and magic, and chaos reigned for a short while, Then the last of the tables softly landed on its legs in front of the benches, guided by Selma's steady wand.
Gilvi stood up and walked to the free space under the balcony:"Dear fellow wizards, dear apprentices, and dear guests. Tonight Trausti Traustason will continue our education on the subject of familiars. Would everybody please be seated. The apprentices sit up here in front, at the benches behind the tables. Green," he pointed at the two leftmost benches, which turned a pale green, and continued towards the right he said: "Blue, yellow, purple and red." The benches took on the appropriate colour at his words. "Professors in the next row, on the benches with no tables, and finally our guests in the comfy chairs. Apprentices get your notebooks up and note anything you find interesting. There'll be question time afterwards, so don't fall asleep please." He smiled, as he knew that most of the apprentices really wanted a familiar and were going to listen well. "And with this I withdraw and give the stage to Trausti." He swung his wand and a gentle, golden light lit the area under the balcony and shone unto the tables in front of the apprentices.
Trausti stood still in the light. Then he whistled sharply two times. Then he waited.
And now we wait with Trausti, Susan, and everybody else at the Unicorn Farm, because I was so long writing this that bed time overtook me
Pollution
Crooked
Learned
Wanting
Industry
And/or
Education
Colour
Withdraw
Coach
Bellow
Cat
Yes Bellow and Cat were meant as two words ... I might give Bellowcat a try 😉
I continue my story from previous chapters 1, 2, 3, and 4
Susan got her problems sorted out before dinner. Dressed in a fresh tunic and skirt, she ate with the other Danes, Trausti sat with the Icelanders, enjoying the food and speaking freely with everybody. The only pollution to the good atmosphere was David's crooked friend. Susan had learned by trial and error which subjects to avoid, and so had most of the other apprentices, only the Norwegian Terje, who was a bit wanting in attention, could now and then spark an uncouth discussion over the plates.
When everybody was done eating, Jon rang the bell and asked the apprentices to re-arrange benches and tables so that everyone could sit facing the balcony in the western end of the Barn. Soon the barn was a hive of industry and magic, and chaos reigned for a short while, Then the last of the tables softly landed on its legs in front of the benches, guided by Selma's steady wand.
Gilvi stood up and walked to the free space under the balcony:"Dear fellow wizards, dear apprentices, and dear guests. Tonight Trausti Traustason will continue our education on the subject of familiars. Would everybody please be seated. The apprentices sit up here in front, at the benches behind the tables. Green," he pointed at the two leftmost benches, which turned a pale green, and continued towards the right he said: "Blue, yellow, purple and red." The benches took on the appropriate colour at his words. "Professors in the next row, on the benches with no tables, and finally our guests in the comfy chairs. Apprentices get your notebooks up and note anything you find interesting. There'll be question time afterwards, so don't fall asleep please." He smiled, as he knew that most of the apprentices really wanted a familiar and were going to listen well. "And with this I withdraw and give the stage to Trausti." He swung his wand and a gentle, golden light lit the area under the balcony and shone unto the tables in front of the apprentices.
Trausti stood still in the light. Then he whistled sharply two times. Then he waited.
And now we wait with Trausti, Susan, and everybody else at the Unicorn Farm, because I was so long writing this that bed time overtook me
lørdag den 31. maj 2025
Words for Wednesday ~ Finally writing again!
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 May, David M Gascoigne will supply us with prompts, but they'll appear at Elephant's Child.
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.
This Wednesday's prompts:
Villian
Visit
Bone
Stork
Memory
And/or
Imprinted
Human
Kink
Spring
Faithful
As I said some time ago, I have a story to tell, and I fear this might turn into one of my marathon-tales running over weeks and weeks before reaching its end. But I am writing again. I am happy!
Here we go. This is happening in the 3rd year on Unicorn Farm, in the short Shrove holidays - this was a thing in Denmark before the winter holiday in February was a thing, we had several single holidays spread over the year, the King and Queen's birthdays, Shrove Monday, Constitution day, and a bit more days in the Christmas holidays.
Susan knew a villain when she saw one, and Tristan certainly was one. Ever since Christmas holidays she, Heidi, Tage and Lis had been sure he was a bad one. Helge and the Flower power girls were almost convinced, as were the Swedish bunch. Now he once again had decided to visit Unicorn Farm over the short Fastelavns (Shrovetide) holidays. Susan wanted to get away. She had met a stray dog when arriving - she had needed some fresh air after a long day at school and at home with smoking family visiting, and then the dizzying portal, and had went for a stroll before joining the other apprentices at the Farm.
She sneaked a bone from the lunch and left. The bleak February sunshine was not exactly warm, rather with a promise of warmth to come, She walked along the dirt road engrossed in her own thoughts. Suddenly a big bird flew up. Was that a stork? Susan thought. No, no way, It's far too early. The storks only arrive in April. It must have been a heron or a crane ... bugger I always mix them up, the straight necked one. A crane Susan decided. Or maybe a swan. Swans, black swans ... they existed only two places in Denmark, she was told. In the moat around Castle Kronborg in Elsinore, she has seen these several times when crossing the castle grounds on her way to the beach. She still cherished the memory of one of the swans chasing off a fox one early morning. It had probably seen the cygnets as a quick breakfast, but it had not taken an angry mother swan into consideration. I had been one of the white ones, though. Black swans did not breed in Denmark.
She arrived at the small clump of trees where she had seen the stray yesterday. It had been OK, Susan had made sure of that using her animal skills, just wanting to be left alone. Susan though that it might be more sociable and hungry, today. She called for the dog, first with words, and then with her mind, but no dog came running towards her. Wondering Susan walked into the thicket. She found the place where the dog had slept, a shallow indentation,where the downtrodden grass still formed a nest-like structure, but it was quite cold. It had been dry for weeks and there was almost no chance of tracks, but Susan looked anyway. And yes, in the grass leading away from her she found what could me a path. She slowly walked along it, careful to keep to the undisturbed grass, looking at the ground. Her patience was rewarded with an imprint of a dog's paws where the thicket gave way to fields. Clear and sharp prints, not old. From here it was easy, the plowed fields was like an open book. She saw the dog chase, but never catch rabbits, looping back towards the thicket, remaking its mind, instead walking slowly - seen by the closer together paw prints - towards the short row of houses lining the road away from the water. Maybe they had been cooking something nice. Then she saw something she had not expected. Human footprints. Coming from the houses, standing still, meeting with the paw-prints, and then both set of prints walking away together, direction houses. This did not tally with the impression, Susan had gotten from the dog yesterday. "Leave me alone," it had told her. "I am weary, old and sad. I need time, time alone. Leave me, please."
A kink in the straight line of tracks, made Susan return to the barren fields. The sun, never high in the sky, was now nearing the horizon. At six she had to be back at the Farm. Three quarters of an hour left, her wristwatch told her. No time for dawdling. She followed the traces onwards, now making a beeline for the small blue house placed a little distance from the others at the end of the row.
She walked onto the road, the field was cloggy, tiring to walk in, and she had seen what she needed to know where the dog was. Had the man kidnapped the dog? She had to know. It had seemed so listless, so sad yesterday. It should not end it's day as someone's plaything, or even worse one one of the places, Susan had heard of where they tested make up, drugs and medicine on animals. Susan was not sure the latter was true, she suspected her classmates once again were trying to pull her leg, but nonetheless, dogs were kidnapped now and then.
Walking on the road soon gave her steps back their spring, and she made good time getting to the blue house.
Behind the blue house, a small shed could be seen. This would be the perfect place to hide a dog. Susan passed the house and walked a bit further along before she sat down on a stone pulling off one shoe, as if to get rid of a stone. She cast about for traces of the dog. As she opened up her animal sense, she was almost knocked silly. The blue house had several animal inhabitants - and the dog was in there. In the house proper, not in the shed, along with cats, at least one owl, some amphibians, and rodents.
Susan suddenly knew the house, or at least she knew of the house. She had been here before. Years ago she bought a miniature grandfather clock for her doll's house. The wonder was that it was a real watch, faithfully keeping time ever since. She wondered if the clockmaker still lived there or what had happened.
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 May, David M Gascoigne will supply us with prompts, but they'll appear at Elephant's Child.
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:
Villian
Visit
Bone
Stork
Memory
And/or
Imprinted
Human
Kink
Spring
Faithful
As I said some time ago, I have a story to tell, and I fear this might turn into one of my marathon-tales running over weeks and weeks before reaching its end. But I am writing again. I am happy!
Here we go. This is happening in the 3rd year on Unicorn Farm, in the short Shrove holidays - this was a thing in Denmark before the winter holiday in February was a thing, we had several single holidays spread over the year, the King and Queen's birthdays, Shrove Monday, Constitution day, and a bit more days in the Christmas holidays.
Susan knew a villain when she saw one, and Tristan certainly was one. Ever since Christmas holidays she, Heidi, Tage and Lis had been sure he was a bad one. Helge and the Flower power girls were almost convinced, as were the Swedish bunch. Now he once again had decided to visit Unicorn Farm over the short Fastelavns (Shrovetide) holidays. Susan wanted to get away. She had met a stray dog when arriving - she had needed some fresh air after a long day at school and at home with smoking family visiting, and then the dizzying portal, and had went for a stroll before joining the other apprentices at the Farm.
She sneaked a bone from the lunch and left. The bleak February sunshine was not exactly warm, rather with a promise of warmth to come, She walked along the dirt road engrossed in her own thoughts. Suddenly a big bird flew up. Was that a stork? Susan thought. No, no way, It's far too early. The storks only arrive in April. It must have been a heron or a crane ... bugger I always mix them up, the straight necked one. A crane Susan decided. Or maybe a swan. Swans, black swans ... they existed only two places in Denmark, she was told. In the moat around Castle Kronborg in Elsinore, she has seen these several times when crossing the castle grounds on her way to the beach. She still cherished the memory of one of the swans chasing off a fox one early morning. It had probably seen the cygnets as a quick breakfast, but it had not taken an angry mother swan into consideration. I had been one of the white ones, though. Black swans did not breed in Denmark.
She arrived at the small clump of trees where she had seen the stray yesterday. It had been OK, Susan had made sure of that using her animal skills, just wanting to be left alone. Susan though that it might be more sociable and hungry, today. She called for the dog, first with words, and then with her mind, but no dog came running towards her. Wondering Susan walked into the thicket. She found the place where the dog had slept, a shallow indentation,where the downtrodden grass still formed a nest-like structure, but it was quite cold. It had been dry for weeks and there was almost no chance of tracks, but Susan looked anyway. And yes, in the grass leading away from her she found what could me a path. She slowly walked along it, careful to keep to the undisturbed grass, looking at the ground. Her patience was rewarded with an imprint of a dog's paws where the thicket gave way to fields. Clear and sharp prints, not old. From here it was easy, the plowed fields was like an open book. She saw the dog chase, but never catch rabbits, looping back towards the thicket, remaking its mind, instead walking slowly - seen by the closer together paw prints - towards the short row of houses lining the road away from the water. Maybe they had been cooking something nice. Then she saw something she had not expected. Human footprints. Coming from the houses, standing still, meeting with the paw-prints, and then both set of prints walking away together, direction houses. This did not tally with the impression, Susan had gotten from the dog yesterday. "Leave me alone," it had told her. "I am weary, old and sad. I need time, time alone. Leave me, please."
A kink in the straight line of tracks, made Susan return to the barren fields. The sun, never high in the sky, was now nearing the horizon. At six she had to be back at the Farm. Three quarters of an hour left, her wristwatch told her. No time for dawdling. She followed the traces onwards, now making a beeline for the small blue house placed a little distance from the others at the end of the row.
She walked onto the road, the field was cloggy, tiring to walk in, and she had seen what she needed to know where the dog was. Had the man kidnapped the dog? She had to know. It had seemed so listless, so sad yesterday. It should not end it's day as someone's plaything, or even worse one one of the places, Susan had heard of where they tested make up, drugs and medicine on animals. Susan was not sure the latter was true, she suspected her classmates once again were trying to pull her leg, but nonetheless, dogs were kidnapped now and then.
Walking on the road soon gave her steps back their spring, and she made good time getting to the blue house.
Behind the blue house, a small shed could be seen. This would be the perfect place to hide a dog. Susan passed the house and walked a bit further along before she sat down on a stone pulling off one shoe, as if to get rid of a stone. She cast about for traces of the dog. As she opened up her animal sense, she was almost knocked silly. The blue house had several animal inhabitants - and the dog was in there. In the house proper, not in the shed, along with cats, at least one owl, some amphibians, and rodents.
Susan suddenly knew the house, or at least she knew of the house. She had been here before. Years ago she bought a miniature grandfather clock for her doll's house. The wonder was that it was a real watch, faithfully keeping time ever since. She wondered if the clockmaker still lived there or what had happened.
... to be continued.
onsdag den 14. maj 2025
Words for Wednesday ~ May 14 & Wordle
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 May, David M Gascoigne will supply us with prompts, but they'll appear at Elephant's Child.
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.
This Wednesday's prompts:
Elbows
Imagine
Canal
Heavily
Population
and/or
Mocked
Months
Annex
Support
Casino
I am slowly easing back into writing mode and continuing the story of Susan and the magic. I have an idea, only the words were not right. This is a warm-up, a prequel, something to get me into writing Susan's story again.
We're in the third year of Magic education at the Unicorn farm. Easter holiday maybe.
And as is my wont, I used all words in the order they were given.
Susan sat with her elbows propped on the windowsill and stared out into the blue beyond. She tried to imagine how life would be if she was allowed to move in at the Unicorn Farm, have a familiar and be a real witch. Every time she crossed the canal separating the island from the mainland she felt free and happy, and every time she went the other way, her heart was weighed down heavily by worries and speculations.
Thora had told them that witches and wizards made up a greater part of the population than they imagined, and that the Unicorn Farm was going to expand by opening up schools elsewhere as well.
100 apprentices was all the Farm on the island had room for, even magically enhanced. and the trouble with buying foodstuff and suchlike for a larger amount of professors and apprentices would become insurmountable.
Susan felt mocked by the universe, as Brúnleit flew past the window. She was Thora's familiar, a short eared owl, in Icelandic a kattugla.
Susan's thought went back in time. She recalled when after months of work at an annex at a local hotel, her father had been invited to the opening ceremony attended by local supports and dignitaries. He had brought the whole family along, Mom, Linda and Susan. The most fun part had been the new casino and the bowling alley. But Susan still remembered her misgivings when somebody had mentioned that the annex had necessitated the felling of a small grove where some owls nested. Susan would have liked one of the owls as a pet, but she never told anyone. She was not even allowed a cat or a dog, so an owl would be unthinkable.
Wordle 1.425 4/6
I did bad today, using letter, I knew were not in. Sigh. I forgot my Pen & Paper method, and furthermore today's solution was a word not in my active vocabulary.
⬜⬜🟨🟨⬜
🟩🟩⬜🟨⬜
🟩🟩🟨⬜⬜
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
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 May, David M Gascoigne will supply us with prompts, but they'll appear at Elephant's Child.
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:
Elbows
Imagine
Canal
Heavily
Population
and/or
Mocked
Months
Annex
Support
Casino
I am slowly easing back into writing mode and continuing the story of Susan and the magic. I have an idea, only the words were not right. This is a warm-up, a prequel, something to get me into writing Susan's story again.
We're in the third year of Magic education at the Unicorn farm. Easter holiday maybe.
And as is my wont, I used all words in the order they were given.
Susan sat with her elbows propped on the windowsill and stared out into the blue beyond. She tried to imagine how life would be if she was allowed to move in at the Unicorn Farm, have a familiar and be a real witch. Every time she crossed the canal separating the island from the mainland she felt free and happy, and every time she went the other way, her heart was weighed down heavily by worries and speculations.
Thora had told them that witches and wizards made up a greater part of the population than they imagined, and that the Unicorn Farm was going to expand by opening up schools elsewhere as well.
100 apprentices was all the Farm on the island had room for, even magically enhanced. and the trouble with buying foodstuff and suchlike for a larger amount of professors and apprentices would become insurmountable.
Susan felt mocked by the universe, as Brúnleit flew past the window. She was Thora's familiar, a short eared owl, in Icelandic a kattugla.
Susan's thought went back in time. She recalled when after months of work at an annex at a local hotel, her father had been invited to the opening ceremony attended by local supports and dignitaries. He had brought the whole family along, Mom, Linda and Susan. The most fun part had been the new casino and the bowling alley. But Susan still remembered her misgivings when somebody had mentioned that the annex had necessitated the felling of a small grove where some owls nested. Susan would have liked one of the owls as a pet, but she never told anyone. She was not even allowed a cat or a dog, so an owl would be unthinkable.
Wordle 1.425 4/6
I did bad today, using letter, I knew were not in. Sigh. I forgot my Pen & Paper method, and furthermore today's solution was a word not in my active vocabulary.
⬜⬜🟨🟨⬜
🟩🟩⬜🟨⬜
🟩🟩🟨⬜⬜
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
søndag den 30. marts 2025
Words for Wednesday March 26 :: Bill & Sue and the Seventh Son 4
In March, River is supplying the prompts for Words for Wednesday.
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.
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.
Continuing the story of Bill, Sue and the man with the chocolate spanner.
It took me forever writing this bit of the story, and when I had done so, I read Lee's chapter one - where the photo came from, and debated with myself, if I should post it or not. Would she think I stole or copied the plot from her? Newry Island is in the name of the photo, and I simply looked it up before writing.
Now I post. I did not copy or steal from anywhere. I lived in Elsinore - city of Castle Kronborg (Hamlet) and by the sea - as a child, and we lived, breathed, and ate stories of sailing, flying Dutchmen, Klabautermen, and disasters at sea.
"The truth ..." the man said, still clutching his chocolate spanner in one hand and a mug of Bill's best beer in the other.
"Out with it!" Bill said, surprisingly harsh.
"Oh, OK ... 'T'was a hot midsummer's eve and a storm was brewing on the horizon, I and the rest of the crew from The Merry Mermaid stood on deck and looked out over the sea strewn with islands, somewhere north of Mackay. The storm, as I said, was on the horizon, and we decided to hurry to Makay. Only the storm decided to hurry in that direction too." He looked into the fire, shaking.
"It hit us just as the harbour was in sight. I never saw, heard, felt or whatever, anything like it. Water everywhere, below us waves, above us rain, and sometimes we were tossed that much around, that the sea was above and the clouds below. I clutched the mast, together with two or three others, one man stood at the tiller and tried to steer the Merry Mermaid so that the waves did not break over us. He succeeded for a surprisingly long time. He grew tired, I could see him yelling for replacement. I had only very little idea of how to steer a ship, but I tried getting to him - and I would have done so, if not one of the other crewmembers suddenly went mad. He came at me with a tool, much like a big spike. "You bloody landlubber!" he cried at me, "ever since you came aboard we've had nothing but accidents. You're not going to take the tiller. Not if it's the last thing I do!"
"His words became a prophesy fulfilled, for that very minute, the man at the tiller gave up, was washed overboard, and the next wave washed us all off of the boat.
"I was hit over the heat by something large and comparatively soft. Not hard, but hard enough that I was under water for a while. When I surfaced, I saw only white, breaking waves all around. And a fender from the boat, probably what hit me in the first place. The rope attached to it trailed just within grasp. I threw myself at it, grasped, clung and tied it to my wrist.
He held out his left wrist, where a white scar went all around.
"It saved my life, but almost cost me my hand. I was thrown up at a beach somewhere - it looked like paradise, and when I came to again, I thought I had died - at least until I felt the pain in my wrist,, and my legs, and almost everywhere. It seems I was dragged through a beach beset with shattered remains of a small coral reef and onto that paradisiac beach. I was in hospital, feverish, incoherent for a long time. Only later I learned that I was the only survivor."
"You were lucky," Bill said. His voice still cool and cutting. "Is this your whole story? And why do you need help?"
"The whole story, unless you want all what happened until that day. And I need your help because of the ghosts." the man shuddered and took a big bite out of the chocolate spanner. "Every time I'm near salt water, or just water that in any way has a connection to the sea, they come for me. Out of the water, the whole crew. They are transparent. They walk through me. They make me cold and wet. I can't stand it any longer."
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.
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:
'T'was a hot midsummer's eve and a storm was brewing on the horizon
and this pic, from lee
Continuing the story of Bill, Sue and the man with the chocolate spanner.
It took me forever writing this bit of the story, and when I had done so, I read Lee's chapter one - where the photo came from, and debated with myself, if I should post it or not. Would she think I stole or copied the plot from her? Newry Island is in the name of the photo, and I simply looked it up before writing.
Now I post. I did not copy or steal from anywhere. I lived in Elsinore - city of Castle Kronborg (Hamlet) and by the sea - as a child, and we lived, breathed, and ate stories of sailing, flying Dutchmen, Klabautermen, and disasters at sea.
"Out with it!" Bill said, surprisingly harsh.
"Oh, OK ... 'T'was a hot midsummer's eve and a storm was brewing on the horizon, I and the rest of the crew from The Merry Mermaid stood on deck and looked out over the sea strewn with islands, somewhere north of Mackay. The storm, as I said, was on the horizon, and we decided to hurry to Makay. Only the storm decided to hurry in that direction too." He looked into the fire, shaking.
"It hit us just as the harbour was in sight. I never saw, heard, felt or whatever, anything like it. Water everywhere, below us waves, above us rain, and sometimes we were tossed that much around, that the sea was above and the clouds below. I clutched the mast, together with two or three others, one man stood at the tiller and tried to steer the Merry Mermaid so that the waves did not break over us. He succeeded for a surprisingly long time. He grew tired, I could see him yelling for replacement. I had only very little idea of how to steer a ship, but I tried getting to him - and I would have done so, if not one of the other crewmembers suddenly went mad. He came at me with a tool, much like a big spike. "You bloody landlubber!" he cried at me, "ever since you came aboard we've had nothing but accidents. You're not going to take the tiller. Not if it's the last thing I do!"
"His words became a prophesy fulfilled, for that very minute, the man at the tiller gave up, was washed overboard, and the next wave washed us all off of the boat.
"I was hit over the heat by something large and comparatively soft. Not hard, but hard enough that I was under water for a while. When I surfaced, I saw only white, breaking waves all around. And a fender from the boat, probably what hit me in the first place. The rope attached to it trailed just within grasp. I threw myself at it, grasped, clung and tied it to my wrist.
He held out his left wrist, where a white scar went all around.
"It saved my life, but almost cost me my hand. I was thrown up at a beach somewhere - it looked like paradise, and when I came to again, I thought I had died - at least until I felt the pain in my wrist,, and my legs, and almost everywhere. It seems I was dragged through a beach beset with shattered remains of a small coral reef and onto that paradisiac beach. I was in hospital, feverish, incoherent for a long time. Only later I learned that I was the only survivor."
"You were lucky," Bill said. His voice still cool and cutting. "Is this your whole story? And why do you need help?"
"The whole story, unless you want all what happened until that day. And I need your help because of the ghosts." the man shuddered and took a big bite out of the chocolate spanner. "Every time I'm near salt water, or just water that in any way has a connection to the sea, they come for me. Out of the water, the whole crew. They are transparent. They walk through me. They make me cold and wet. I can't stand it any longer."
Hoping to continue in a more timely manner
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