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 Hilary Melton-Butcher 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:
Livestock
Scheduled
Structure
Target
Folklore
and/or:
Accessible
Lichen
Cheese
Cushion
Facts
A small tale from Susan's - almost - mundane life is all I could manage today. Also, and as I usually do, using the words in the order they were given.
The stretch with livestock, today peacefully grazing cows, never ceased to wonder Susan. Why would this stretch of land in the outskirts of the city be allowed to just be home to livestock? Many other green areas, even further form the centre were already built up or scheduled for housing, supermarkets or schools, but not this particular piece of land. A bit further on, and to he right she espied the structure, that was the target of today's bike ride, a large conglomerate of greenhouses and other buildings. She turned right into the gravel path and had to slow down as a troupe of some kind of artists came by. The women were dressed in embroidered boluses and garish skirts and the men in wide, white shirts and black pants. They looked like some Slavonic folklore ensemble down to violin cases, cymbals and tambourines.
Still the old greenhouses were accessible to customers, even though they were old and decrepit and lichen grew in many places, Susan loved the old plant nursery. It was decidedly not a garden centre, as they had plants, and nothing else. Susan could spend all day walking around in and outside the greenhouses where plants grew, sometimes in ponds, sometimes in containers on shelves, packed much like cheese stacked to ripen. Moss grew like luscious green cushions, some tiny, with only room for a fairy or two, some big enough for even grown men to lie on, she liked the rich, loamy smell, and the moist, pungent smell from the lily pond. Only the fact that she had forgotten to tell mom where she was going, and ask for permission to not be home for dinner, made her finally leave the premises with a single, white water lily in a bag.
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 Susan's Story. Vis alle opslag
Viser opslag med etiketten Susan's Story. Vis alle opslag
onsdag den 17. juni 2026
onsdag den 3. juni 2026
Words for Wednesday June 3 & 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, 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 Hilary Melton-Butcher 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:
Sculpture
Amendment
Timeline
Bog
Castle
and/or:
Sword
Crew
Buffalo
Forest
Variation
These words just did not speak to me at all. But as the 'rules' also say: "Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them" I went with none and continued my story of The Effervescent Water.
Part one
Part two
Part three
Marja and Paula, the two Birch sisters, fervently wished they were invisible. The effervescent water had chased away any vestige of the Dream Drops, and they were now facing an angry Thora.
"Paula and Marja! Why are you here on The Farm if you just wish to dream your days away?" Thora asked, "We have had no problem filling the school, and we have had to say no to some children - or actually we never got to ask them. I hope you have a very good explanation."
"Do we?" Marja asked her bigger sister. Paula looked at Marja, then back at Thora, and slowly shook her head. "No," she said in a low voice filled with despair. "I, we .. no I can't explain."
"Then let's start somewhere else," Thora said. "How often have you been using Dream Drops here at the Farm?"
"Today was the first time ever," Marja said. "At least I never tried it before."
"And you, Paula?" Thora said looking at the elder of the Birch sisters.
"Same, I never tried them before today."
"Please give me the rest of them!" Thora said and held out her hand.
Paula reached into her skirt pocket and found a small paper bag and emptied the contents into Thora's hand. There they lay, looking just like candy, drop shaped and of the same enticing colour as crispy, ripe apples. They even smelled temptingly like apples.
"And from where did you get those Dream Drops?" Thora asked, a bit mollified by Paula's ready compliance.
June 3 question - Do most of your story ideas come from one place (the news, dreams, etc.) or do they hit from all over the place?
My answer - My inspiration and story ideas come from literally all over the place. An overheard conversation, a photo, a smell, biking through the woods ... and as today from the prompts in Words for Wednesday.
For this story the Effervescent water comes from the prompts from May 6, and the Dream Drops comes from Heaven knows where. I no longer remember the idea for the Birch sisters - probably just from Koivu, their last name meaning Birch. Thora's name comes from an Icelandic lady of my wider family, and her person and demeanor is an idealized version of one of my teachers at school. The Farm proper is a real building from a place I visited frequently as a child, remade into a school of magic - and this idea comes from many books and my wanting to learn to fly and brew potions from very small.
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 Hilary Melton-Butcher 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:
Sculpture
Amendment
Timeline
Bog
Castle
and/or:
Sword
Crew
Buffalo
Forest
Variation
These words just did not speak to me at all. But as the 'rules' also say: "Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them" I went with none and continued my story of The Effervescent Water.
Part one
Part two
Part three
Marja and Paula, the two Birch sisters, fervently wished they were invisible. The effervescent water had chased away any vestige of the Dream Drops, and they were now facing an angry Thora.
"Paula and Marja! Why are you here on The Farm if you just wish to dream your days away?" Thora asked, "We have had no problem filling the school, and we have had to say no to some children - or actually we never got to ask them. I hope you have a very good explanation."
"Do we?" Marja asked her bigger sister. Paula looked at Marja, then back at Thora, and slowly shook her head. "No," she said in a low voice filled with despair. "I, we .. no I can't explain."
"Then let's start somewhere else," Thora said. "How often have you been using Dream Drops here at the Farm?"
"Today was the first time ever," Marja said. "At least I never tried it before."
"And you, Paula?" Thora said looking at the elder of the Birch sisters.
"Same, I never tried them before today."
"Please give me the rest of them!" Thora said and held out her hand.
Paula reached into her skirt pocket and found a small paper bag and emptied the contents into Thora's hand. There they lay, looking just like candy, drop shaped and of the same enticing colour as crispy, ripe apples. They even smelled temptingly like apples.
"And from where did you get those Dream Drops?" Thora asked, a bit mollified by Paula's ready compliance.
. . . . . To be continued
- -
A
- -
B
- -
C
- -
June 3 question - Do most of your story ideas come from one place (the news, dreams, etc.) or do they hit from all over the place?My answer - My inspiration and story ideas come from literally all over the place. An overheard conversation, a photo, a smell, biking through the woods ... and as today from the prompts in Words for Wednesday.
For this story the Effervescent water comes from the prompts from May 6, and the Dream Drops comes from Heaven knows where. I no longer remember the idea for the Birch sisters - probably just from Koivu, their last name meaning Birch. Thora's name comes from an Icelandic lady of my wider family, and her person and demeanor is an idealized version of one of my teachers at school. The Farm proper is a real building from a place I visited frequently as a child, remade into a school of magic - and this idea comes from many books and my wanting to learn to fly and brew potions from very small.
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.
onsdag den 4. februar 2026
Words for Wednesday February 4 & 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, 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.
We were given these words:
Black eye
Car wash
Mud bath
Jelly bean
Duct tape
In the early summer just before the end of the first year on Unicorn Farm, Jelly beans were not yet a thing in Denmark, so I did not use that word.
After Susan's brush with a viper she had a black eye, not a big and swollen one, only black, so that everybody stared at her, and then looked away. Susan felt inordinately discomforted by this, she did not like being the centre of any form of attention. Tuesday in the evening, dad asked if she needed her bike for the trip to the beach the next day.
Susan replied in the negative. "It's too cold for the beach anyway, and I do not like the way everybody looks at me with this black eye."
"It sure looks impressing," Dad said. "If you feel like it, come down to my work after school, then we can get your bike, and I can run the car through the car wash. I can do without the van tomorrow. The car looks like it took a mud bath recently." Dad smiled. The car had been quite dirty for some time, and mum had been after him to wash it.
"Oh, can I come too," Linda said. "Then Susan and I can stay in the car while it's being washed. You promised that we could some day."
"That could be fun," Susan said, silently hoping that Linda would not spoil the fun by chickening out or teasing her.
"We could do that," Dad said, "but then you'll have to bike home, Susan, there's not room for both of you and the bike in the car."
"Can do," Susan answered. "It's not that far, and I'd like to see if it's fine, and me too after that stunt. If I'm not you'll have to write me a note excusing me from Thursday's tennis lessons."
"Deal!" Dad said.
Next day after school Susan found Linda waiting for her at the school gate. Together they walked through town, down to dad's shop. As they reached the candy store they were tempted to go inside. "Do you have any money?" Linda asked.
"Not much," Susan replied. "And you?"
"Nope, not a coin left," Linda said. "I was so hungry yesterday at school, and Karin and me went to the baker's just across the road."
Susan knew Karin from earlier, she as almost as hungry as Lucy-from-the-mision as daddy always called her. Linda was generous and had probably paid for her own and Karin's baked goods.
"Oh, look," Linda said, "they have gotten new stock of the strong and sour drops."
They had been sold out for over a week, and Susan especially loved the sour ones. The candy had strange names like Rat poison and Suicide. Nuts and spikes were more logical, being shaped like this.
Susan ended up spending the rest of her pocket money on candy.
Dad came out of the shop the moment they arrived, and gave the girls a big hug. The seat next to the driver's seat was taken up by a big crate of tools, cables and wires, explaining whey there was not room for both girls and a bike.
They jumped into the car, Susan behind the crate, and Linda behind dad. At the car wash dad got out and told the girls to stay put. Then he spoke at length to the owner, and returned, pulled a roll of duct tape from the crate and put some over one of tha lamps.
"The glass broke," he explained, "and water and electricity are not good friends."
Then he drove the car into the car wash and made sure all windows were closed tightly. "Now you stay here. and see what happens. I'll run the shortest cycle. It will be loud, but you won't get wet. In case of panic, honk the horn ... but please try to don't. I had to persuade the owner!"
The washing procedure began, water splashed against the car, big yellow and black striped brushes ran over it making scouring sounds. It was not as fun as they had imagined. It was very loud, and the gushes of water and the brushes pushing made the car wobble and shake. They ate all the candy, and then the gusts of warm air drying the car off blew over them like a desert storm and dad returned.
"We survived," Linda said.
"It was not very fun, actually," Susan said. "But at least we have tried it."
"I think you learned a lesson today," Dad said. He drove the now sparkling car to the bike repair shop.
"Come with me, Susan," he said. Then we can get your bike.
It was fast, Susan got her bike back while Dad paid, and then she pedalled home, first carefully, then faster and faster. Both she and the bike were good as new.
- - A - - B - - C - -
February 4 question - Many writers have written about the experience of rereading their work years later. Have you reread any of your early works? What was that experience like for you?My answer - Searching through an old binder recently, I actually found one of the first things I ever wrote: "A Tale of Kittens". I think I was 5 or 6 years old when I wrote it, laboriously typing away on an old typewriter.
I was surprised. It was long, 5 pages in uneven typing, and actually good! Lots of echoes from books the then me had read, but put together in creative ways and with nice passages to make it all come together as a working story - and a happy ending.
If only I could go back in time, give that small, lonely girl a hug and tell her to keep it up ...
fredag den 23. januar 2026
Words for Wednesday ~ January 21
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:
Absolution
Auschwitz
Love
Resistance
Without
and/or:
Dancing
Dreams
Ears
Eyes
Talking
Still too grown-uppish for Unicorn Farm, but some of them might do for the mystery of the Lorenzoes? This took me a while to write, it's a bit incoherent, but it is what it is, and not much of the Lorenzoes in it either, sorry.
Next morning Susan awoke early. She tiptoed to the bathroom and looked at her backpack. It was a total loss, green in blobs and patches, grimy and the fabric had cracked and curled here and there. But the items inside mostly had survived. Only the edges of her diary and sketchbook had a greenish tinge to the edges, but it was OK, a memory of the crazy day at the library.
After having a quick wash and braiding her hair, Susan sat down at the window sill trying to draw the view and describe the day yesterday. All those Lorenzos. and all those mad people.
Some time later Knud also stirred, he waddled to the bathroom, patting Susan's head in passing, which she loved, and returned shortly afterwards, fit for a new day.
"You do need a new backpack, don't you?" he asked warmly.
"I sure do," Susan agreed, "that one os not good for anything any more. I think I'll just put my stuff in that tote bag from the hotel and ..."
"And then we'll have to find you a new backpack." Knud interrupted. "Florence is famous for its leaterworking, we should be able to find a new one for you!"
"Oh fabulous, I imagind having to carry this tote bag all through Europe."
"Won't do," Knud said, Let's get going."
They walked along. When they reached the church of Santa Croce a big poster caught their attention.
"Get your absolution here!" it said, then in smaller letters: "On August 2nd we celebrate the Porziuncula indulgence. Be prepared!"
"I like that!" Knud said.
"So do I," Susan said. "But I forgot that Santa Croce is a Franciscan church. It's so very overwhelming, not like the other Franciscan churches, we've seen."
"Too right," Knd agreed, "but it still is a Franciscan church. And I think we should grasp the opportunity, August 2nd is in three days."
"I'd love to," Susan said, and it seems that resistance is futile," she said looking at the next banner featuring - of course - Lorenzo dei Medici summoning them to the occasion as well. "What's his connection here?" Susan asked in a surprised tone, I thought all them Medicis were buried in San Lorenzo."
"They are," Knud replied. "As to why Lorenzo is portrayed, not a clue. His grandfather, Cosimo did commission lots of work on this church. I do not remember if Lorenzo did anything, but he might have been chosen for the looks."
"He might at that," Susan admitted, "But oh, look: 'Scuola di Cuoio', they must do leatherworking."
They sure did, but the prices were enough to let Susan and Knud leave the shop without doing more than looking and touching. Even the sight of some items with the Medici arms did not tempt them.
"So much money for a backpack!" Susan said in a shocked voice when they were far enough away from the establishment, "and you even had to order one for delivery within four months. Let's find somewhere a bit more humble. They were also not that great. I'd like something a bit more more practical, spacious and homely," she added.
They had a cappuccino in a street not far away, but down some streets, and obviously in a place not frequented by tourists. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams, and the paint flaked in the corners, but the coffee was excellent. They walked onwards, always choosing the humbler looking of the streets, away from the tourist traps. In the end they found a street of leather shops, not fancy ones, with handwritten signs only in Italian, and with prices more within their range.
"Now, this is where ordinary people buy their stuff, I dare bet," Knud said. Susan just nodded, she had seen something.
"That bag," Susan said with her nose very close to a shop window, "it looks maybe a bit old and faded from the sunlight, but I think it might be the backpack of my dreams. Roomy, lots of pockets, nothing fancy-pants about it, but good workmanship, as far as I can see at least."
Knud looked at it, and the owner of the shop arrived. After some back and forth, where both of them had to prick up their ears to follow the Florentine shop owner, Susan asked if she could touch the bag. "Go on," the man said, "try it on even. It is good quality," the man said, having understood that they were foreigners, he now spoke in short sentences. Susan smiled and examined the backpack with eyes and fingers, she like everything. Many small rooms and pockets, not taking away from the inner bag, but attached to it on the outside, sturdy broad straps, a broad lid, closing securely and looking like it could keep out the rain. And to finish it all off a fleur de lys imprinted, to remind her of its origin. She tried it on, and it fit her long body as if it was made for her.
"Aï," the shop owner said, "you're a tall one. None of the locals could use it. Special price for you," he continued with a smile changing from sly to friendly, and mentioned a fair price for both parts. "I'll use it here and now, please" Susan answered, when asked if she wanted it wrapped. He gave Susan a small tin of something: "Leather treatment," he said. "It needs some after its long stay in my window."
Susan thanked him, and added. "Will use, this evening" She proceeded to transfer her stuff into it, while Knud paid and added an extra banknote, saying: "This is for talking to us as if we were human beings, and not idiotic tourists." The shop owner gave him a huge smile and hugged and kissed them both for good measure, and then they walked away smiling.
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:
Absolution
Auschwitz
Love
Resistance
Without
and/or:
Dancing
Dreams
Ears
Eyes
Talking
Still too grown-uppish for Unicorn Farm, but some of them might do for the mystery of the Lorenzoes? This took me a while to write, it's a bit incoherent, but it is what it is, and not much of the Lorenzoes in it either, sorry.
Next morning Susan awoke early. She tiptoed to the bathroom and looked at her backpack. It was a total loss, green in blobs and patches, grimy and the fabric had cracked and curled here and there. But the items inside mostly had survived. Only the edges of her diary and sketchbook had a greenish tinge to the edges, but it was OK, a memory of the crazy day at the library.
After having a quick wash and braiding her hair, Susan sat down at the window sill trying to draw the view and describe the day yesterday. All those Lorenzos. and all those mad people.
Some time later Knud also stirred, he waddled to the bathroom, patting Susan's head in passing, which she loved, and returned shortly afterwards, fit for a new day.
"You do need a new backpack, don't you?" he asked warmly.
"I sure do," Susan agreed, "that one os not good for anything any more. I think I'll just put my stuff in that tote bag from the hotel and ..."
"And then we'll have to find you a new backpack." Knud interrupted. "Florence is famous for its leaterworking, we should be able to find a new one for you!"
"Oh fabulous, I imagind having to carry this tote bag all through Europe."
"Won't do," Knud said, Let's get going."
They walked along. When they reached the church of Santa Croce a big poster caught their attention.
"Get your absolution here!" it said, then in smaller letters: "On August 2nd we celebrate the Porziuncula indulgence. Be prepared!"
"I like that!" Knud said.
"So do I," Susan said. "But I forgot that Santa Croce is a Franciscan church. It's so very overwhelming, not like the other Franciscan churches, we've seen."
"Too right," Knd agreed, "but it still is a Franciscan church. And I think we should grasp the opportunity, August 2nd is in three days."
"I'd love to," Susan said, and it seems that resistance is futile," she said looking at the next banner featuring - of course - Lorenzo dei Medici summoning them to the occasion as well. "What's his connection here?" Susan asked in a surprised tone, I thought all them Medicis were buried in San Lorenzo."
"They are," Knud replied. "As to why Lorenzo is portrayed, not a clue. His grandfather, Cosimo did commission lots of work on this church. I do not remember if Lorenzo did anything, but he might have been chosen for the looks."
"He might at that," Susan admitted, "But oh, look: 'Scuola di Cuoio', they must do leatherworking."
They sure did, but the prices were enough to let Susan and Knud leave the shop without doing more than looking and touching. Even the sight of some items with the Medici arms did not tempt them.
"So much money for a backpack!" Susan said in a shocked voice when they were far enough away from the establishment, "and you even had to order one for delivery within four months. Let's find somewhere a bit more humble. They were also not that great. I'd like something a bit more more practical, spacious and homely," she added.
They had a cappuccino in a street not far away, but down some streets, and obviously in a place not frequented by tourists. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams, and the paint flaked in the corners, but the coffee was excellent. They walked onwards, always choosing the humbler looking of the streets, away from the tourist traps. In the end they found a street of leather shops, not fancy ones, with handwritten signs only in Italian, and with prices more within their range.
"Now, this is where ordinary people buy their stuff, I dare bet," Knud said. Susan just nodded, she had seen something.
"That bag," Susan said with her nose very close to a shop window, "it looks maybe a bit old and faded from the sunlight, but I think it might be the backpack of my dreams. Roomy, lots of pockets, nothing fancy-pants about it, but good workmanship, as far as I can see at least."
Knud looked at it, and the owner of the shop arrived. After some back and forth, where both of them had to prick up their ears to follow the Florentine shop owner, Susan asked if she could touch the bag. "Go on," the man said, "try it on even. It is good quality," the man said, having understood that they were foreigners, he now spoke in short sentences. Susan smiled and examined the backpack with eyes and fingers, she like everything. Many small rooms and pockets, not taking away from the inner bag, but attached to it on the outside, sturdy broad straps, a broad lid, closing securely and looking like it could keep out the rain. And to finish it all off a fleur de lys imprinted, to remind her of its origin. She tried it on, and it fit her long body as if it was made for her.
"Aï," the shop owner said, "you're a tall one. None of the locals could use it. Special price for you," he continued with a smile changing from sly to friendly, and mentioned a fair price for both parts. "I'll use it here and now, please" Susan answered, when asked if she wanted it wrapped. He gave Susan a small tin of something: "Leather treatment," he said. "It needs some after its long stay in my window."
Susan thanked him, and added. "Will use, this evening" She proceeded to transfer her stuff into it, while Knud paid and added an extra banknote, saying: "This is for talking to us as if we were human beings, and not idiotic tourists." The shop owner gave him a huge smile and hugged and kissed them both for good measure, and then they walked away smiling.
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 10. december 2025
Words for Wednesday December 10
Motel
and/or:
Speedboat
Graveyard
Iris
The ending - at least for now of the story of Susan and the strange, demanding bird. I only used the struck out words.
Susan looked sternly at the bird. "OOP-OOP-OOP!" it screamed.
Susan lost her temper and squawked back at it "Oop-oop-OOOP to you as well, stupid bird! I cannot help you if you won't collaborate and tell me where those dratted eggs fell from your nest!"
The birds looked stunned at Susan, raised its luscious, yellow crest and said Oop-opp-ooop, varied and softly, and in the scrying water Susan saw a tree she knew, The tree with the old wheelbarrow down below, near the beginning of the jogging trail to the beach.
"Now I know where," Susan said, looking once again squarely at the bird. "Meet me there!" With those words she turned around and ran down the stairs from the attic room.
Down by the tree the bird was waiting for her. It oop'ed softly, and Susan picked up the eggs , she found ten, light blue but dirty and carefully collected them in her hanky. Then she looked questioning at the bird, she could see no nest in the tree above her at all. The bird raised its crest again and flew as slowly as possible up along the trunk and disappeared into a hole near the top. Luckily Susan was a wizard, and she simply gathered the hanky in one hand, swing her wand with the other and gently soared up to the nesting hole. She placed the eggs in the soft moss - but what a smell! She peered into the nest, but she saw nothing that did not belong in a bird's nest, moss, a few feathers and leaves. The bird quickly placed herself over the eggs, and Susan noticed that the stench became more pronounced as the bird settled. "I'll keep an eye on you, Oop-bird," Susan said and carefully descended from the tree. She could hear the bird answer with soft Oop-oops.
Home at The Farm, Susan washed her hands thoroughly with Martine's mood soap that changed colour and smell to suit the needs of the user. Today it was a deep brown coffee soap, perfect for removing the penetrating stench from the nest.
She then went to the library and found out that the bird was an hoopoe and that the fetid stench was an anti-predator measure, exuded by the brooding bird. "Phew," she thought to herself, "I'm happy that my suspicion about something rotting in the nest was wrong. Anyway I am going to keep an eye on that crazy bird. But now I'd better go back to my writing."
She put the bird books back on their shelves and hurried along the corridor and up the short flight of stairs to the room in the attic.
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 29. oktober 2025
Words for Wednesday (Blogtober 29)
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:
Cudgeling
Remember
Language
Translated
Coined
and/or:
Dead
Heirs
Between
Existing
Episode
Next instalment in the story of David and the other apprentices. Olav is the youngest of 'The Conspirators' - those apprentices who saved, or tried to save the broom-race. He only joined that group the last day, because Marit and Astrid, his cousins, brought him with them to the small room in the attic where they met. He turned out to be a big asset to The Conspirators, transforming a branch to a key to open the lock to the broom-shed.
As is my wont, I used the words in the order they were given. I did not use all the words, and I forgot translated. Hoping for a second installment.
"He threatened you with cudgelling?" Tage asked in an incredulous voice. Olav nodded wordlessly. The young Norwegian looked scared. After ascertaining that he and Tage were all alone in the room with the door closed, he dared to speak. "I think that he got onto me letting the Conspirators into the broom-shed. And he somehow thinks that I should not be better at transformation than you and Heidi."
"But you are," Tage replied. "Oh now I remember your story. Your mother is not a witch, opposed to magic and all that?"
"Yes, exactly," Olav said with a sigh. And he rambled on, finally having found someone who cared to listen to him: "He also buggers me about languages, telling me that Norwegian is only a Danish dialect, and that my Icelandic is atrocious and that I'll never learn how to cast a decent spell, because Flora, that's my mom," Olav hurriedly added seeing Tage's confused expression, "yes because she's not a withc, and only a no good for nothing charlady." Olav drew a shuddering breath and Tage just waited. "He's even coined a nickname for her, The 'one shot washerwoman' .... Because I'm an only child." Olav added, once again prompted by Tage's questioning looks.
"Olav, I'm happy that you're with us. 'Us' here being the purple team as well as the conspirators. Remember that David is really angry at himself for not being better. I know this is hard to believe, but we have been watching him closely. He's not smart, nor hard-working. He seems smart only because he gathers only those around him being more stupid, or more unlucky. Instead of working on becoming smarter, he's working on making everybody else seem stupider."
"But that's stupid!" Olav said, "sooner or later they'll find out. My mom always say that you can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time. She also says that your work is your responsibility and that work is the only way to get better at anything. "
"Your mom is not stupid!" Tage said emphatically. "Maybe you inherited wizardry from your dad only, but you inherited a lot of wisdom and common sense from your mom."
"I'm happy to be one of your team," Olav said
"Not my team," Tage retorted, "our team!"
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:
Cudgeling - bank med køller
Remember - huske
Language - sprog
Translated - oversatte
Coined - slog mønt / udtænkte (et udtryk)
and/or:
Dead - død
Heirs - arvinger
Between - imellem
Existing - eksisterende
Episode - episode / afsnit
Næste afsnit i historien om David og de andre lærlinge. Olav er den yngste af 'De sammensvorne' – de lærlinge, der reddede eller forsøgte at redde kosteløbet. Han sluttede sig først til gruppen den sidste dag, fordi Marit og Astrid, hans kusiner, tog ham med til det lille rum på loftet, hvor de mødtes. Han viste sig at være en stor gevinst for De sammensvorne, da han forvandlede en gren til en nøgle, der kunne åbne låsen til kosteskuret.
Som så ofte før har jeg brugt ordene i den rækkefølge, vi har fået dem. Jeg har ikke brugt alle ordene - og jeg kom til at springe oversatte over. Jeg håber opå en fortsættelse.
"Han truede med at give dig tæv med en kæp?" spurgte Tage med vantro stemme. Olav nikkede uden at sige noget. Den unge nordmand så bange ud. Først han havde konstateret, at han og Tage var alene i rummet og at døren var ordentligt lukket, turde han svare. "Jeg tror, han har opdaget, at det var mig, der lukkede de sammensvorne ind i kosteskuret. Og han mener på en eller anden måde, at jeg ikke bør være bedre til forvandling end dig og Heidi."
"Men det er du jo," svarede Tage. "Åh, nu kan jeg huske din historie. Din mor er ikke heks, men modstander af magi og alt det der?"
"Ja, præcis," sagde Olav med et suk. Og han snakkede løs. Endelig havde han fundet nogen, der gad at lytte til ham: "Han plager mig også med mit sprog og siger, at norsk kun er en dansk dialekt, og at mit islandsk er forfærdeligt, og at jeg aldrig vil lære at kaste en ordentlig besværgelse, fordi Flora, det er min mor," tilføjede Olav hurtigt, da han så Tages forvirrede udtryk, "ja, fordi hun ikke er en heks, men kun en uduelig vaskekone." Olav trak vejret dybt og Tage ventede bare. "Han har endda fundet på et øgenavn til hende, 'engangsvaskeren' ... Fordi jeg jo er enebarn," tilføjede Olav, igen opfordret af Tages spørgende blik.
"Olav, jeg er glad for, at du er på vores hold. 'Os' er både det lilla hold og de sammensvorne. Husk på at David inderst inde er vred på sig selv for ikke at være bedre. Jeg ved, det kan være svært at tro på, men vi har holdt øje med ham i et stykke tid, mig og mine søstre, og så Susan. Han er hverken særligt klog eller hårdtarbejdende. Han virker kun klog, fordi han kun omgiver sig med folk, der er dummere eller mere uheldige end ham selv. I stedet for at arbejde på at blive klogere, arbejder han på at få alle andre til at virke dummere.
"Men det er dumt!" sagde Olav, "før eller senere finder de ud af det. Min mor siger altid, at man kan narre nogle mennesker hele tiden eller alle mennesker én gang, men at man ikke kan narre alle mennesker hele tiden. Hun siger også, at dit arbejde er dit ansvar, og at arbejde er den eneste måde at blive bedre til noget på."
"Din mor er ikke dum!" sagde Tage med eftertryk. "Måske har du kun arvet magien fra din far, men du har arvet en masse klogskab og sund fornuft fra din mor."
"Jeg er glad for at være en del af dit hold," sagde Olav.
"Ikke mit hold," svarede Tage, "vores hold!"
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:
Cudgeling
Remember
Language
Translated
Coined
and/or:
Dead
Heirs
Between
Existing
Episode
Next instalment in the story of David and the other apprentices. Olav is the youngest of 'The Conspirators' - those apprentices who saved, or tried to save the broom-race. He only joined that group the last day, because Marit and Astrid, his cousins, brought him with them to the small room in the attic where they met. He turned out to be a big asset to The Conspirators, transforming a branch to a key to open the lock to the broom-shed.
As is my wont, I used the words in the order they were given. I did not use all the words, and I forgot translated. Hoping for a second installment.
"He threatened you with cudgelling?" Tage asked in an incredulous voice. Olav nodded wordlessly. The young Norwegian looked scared. After ascertaining that he and Tage were all alone in the room with the door closed, he dared to speak. "I think that he got onto me letting the Conspirators into the broom-shed. And he somehow thinks that I should not be better at transformation than you and Heidi."
"But you are," Tage replied. "Oh now I remember your story. Your mother is not a witch, opposed to magic and all that?"
"Yes, exactly," Olav said with a sigh. And he rambled on, finally having found someone who cared to listen to him: "He also buggers me about languages, telling me that Norwegian is only a Danish dialect, and that my Icelandic is atrocious and that I'll never learn how to cast a decent spell, because Flora, that's my mom," Olav hurriedly added seeing Tage's confused expression, "yes because she's not a withc, and only a no good for nothing charlady." Olav drew a shuddering breath and Tage just waited. "He's even coined a nickname for her, The 'one shot washerwoman' .... Because I'm an only child." Olav added, once again prompted by Tage's questioning looks.
"Olav, I'm happy that you're with us. 'Us' here being the purple team as well as the conspirators. Remember that David is really angry at himself for not being better. I know this is hard to believe, but we have been watching him closely. He's not smart, nor hard-working. He seems smart only because he gathers only those around him being more stupid, or more unlucky. Instead of working on becoming smarter, he's working on making everybody else seem stupider."
"But that's stupid!" Olav said, "sooner or later they'll find out. My mom always say that you can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time. She also says that your work is your responsibility and that work is the only way to get better at anything. "
"Your mom is not stupid!" Tage said emphatically. "Maybe you inherited wizardry from your dad only, but you inherited a lot of wisdom and common sense from your mom."
"I'm happy to be one of your team," Olav said
"Not my team," Tage retorted, "our team!"
- - 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:
Cudgeling - bank med køller
Remember - huske
Language - sprog
Translated - oversatte
Coined - slog mønt / udtænkte (et udtryk)
and/or:
Dead - død
Heirs - arvinger
Between - imellem
Existing - eksisterende
Episode - episode / afsnit
Næste afsnit i historien om David og de andre lærlinge. Olav er den yngste af 'De sammensvorne' – de lærlinge, der reddede eller forsøgte at redde kosteløbet. Han sluttede sig først til gruppen den sidste dag, fordi Marit og Astrid, hans kusiner, tog ham med til det lille rum på loftet, hvor de mødtes. Han viste sig at være en stor gevinst for De sammensvorne, da han forvandlede en gren til en nøgle, der kunne åbne låsen til kosteskuret.
Som så ofte før har jeg brugt ordene i den rækkefølge, vi har fået dem. Jeg har ikke brugt alle ordene - og jeg kom til at springe oversatte over. Jeg håber opå en fortsættelse.
"Han truede med at give dig tæv med en kæp?" spurgte Tage med vantro stemme. Olav nikkede uden at sige noget. Den unge nordmand så bange ud. Først han havde konstateret, at han og Tage var alene i rummet og at døren var ordentligt lukket, turde han svare. "Jeg tror, han har opdaget, at det var mig, der lukkede de sammensvorne ind i kosteskuret. Og han mener på en eller anden måde, at jeg ikke bør være bedre til forvandling end dig og Heidi."
"Men det er du jo," svarede Tage. "Åh, nu kan jeg huske din historie. Din mor er ikke heks, men modstander af magi og alt det der?"
"Ja, præcis," sagde Olav med et suk. Og han snakkede løs. Endelig havde han fundet nogen, der gad at lytte til ham: "Han plager mig også med mit sprog og siger, at norsk kun er en dansk dialekt, og at mit islandsk er forfærdeligt, og at jeg aldrig vil lære at kaste en ordentlig besværgelse, fordi Flora, det er min mor," tilføjede Olav hurtigt, da han så Tages forvirrede udtryk, "ja, fordi hun ikke er en heks, men kun en uduelig vaskekone." Olav trak vejret dybt og Tage ventede bare. "Han har endda fundet på et øgenavn til hende, 'engangsvaskeren' ... Fordi jeg jo er enebarn," tilføjede Olav, igen opfordret af Tages spørgende blik.
"Olav, jeg er glad for, at du er på vores hold. 'Os' er både det lilla hold og de sammensvorne. Husk på at David inderst inde er vred på sig selv for ikke at være bedre. Jeg ved, det kan være svært at tro på, men vi har holdt øje med ham i et stykke tid, mig og mine søstre, og så Susan. Han er hverken særligt klog eller hårdtarbejdende. Han virker kun klog, fordi han kun omgiver sig med folk, der er dummere eller mere uheldige end ham selv. I stedet for at arbejde på at blive klogere, arbejder han på at få alle andre til at virke dummere.
"Men det er dumt!" sagde Olav, "før eller senere finder de ud af det. Min mor siger altid, at man kan narre nogle mennesker hele tiden eller alle mennesker én gang, men at man ikke kan narre alle mennesker hele tiden. Hun siger også, at dit arbejde er dit ansvar, og at arbejde er den eneste måde at blive bedre til noget på."
"Din mor er ikke dum!" sagde Tage med eftertryk. "Måske har du kun arvet magien fra din far, men du har arvet en masse klogskab og sund fornuft fra din mor."
"Jeg er glad for at være en del af dit hold," sagde Olav.
"Ikke mit hold," svarede Tage, "vores hold!"
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 24. september 2025
Words for Wednesday :: The WORDS only
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 September River will supply us with prompts.
It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.
So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.
This Wednesday's prompts:
Olympian
Support
Tabby cat
Mountain
Fireplace
Clothesline
I have too many loose ends here on my blog. Last week I finished Sour Notes, this week I am also looking for something to finish.
Those words remind me of bits and pieces of Susan's story: The owls on Granny's clothesline, Susan's childhood love of cats and her orange tabby cat (think Garfield), the fireplace she slept next to during the cold winter, when her room was under repair, the mountains she climbed during her holiday in northern Sweden, or were buried beneath on her first visit to Iceland. But no story is surfacing in these memory swirls. It might happen later. I hope.
And I thank you all or your never faltering support during my Olympian craziness!
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 September River will supply us with prompts.
It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.
So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.
- - A - - B - - C - -
This Wednesday's prompts:
Olympian
Support
Tabby cat
Mountain
Fireplace
Clothesline
I have too many loose ends here on my blog. Last week I finished Sour Notes, this week I am also looking for something to finish.
Those words remind me of bits and pieces of Susan's story: The owls on Granny's clothesline, Susan's childhood love of cats and her orange tabby cat (think Garfield), the fireplace she slept next to during the cold winter, when her room was under repair, the mountains she climbed during her holiday in northern Sweden, or were buried beneath on her first visit to Iceland. But no story is surfacing in these memory swirls. It might happen later. I hope.
And I thank you all or your never faltering support during my Olympian craziness!
onsdag den 13. august 2025
Words for Wednesday ~ August 13
Word for Wednesday is a challenge that was started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable event with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words provided by a number of people.
The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.
In August, Mimi of MessyMimi's Meanderings will supply us with prompts.
It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.
So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.
This Wednesday's prompts:
Easy
Student
Invasion
Encourage
Housing
Spectrum
and/or the following archaic words
Gaud -- a trinket
Moil -- drudgery
Pore on -- think about, dwell on thoughtfully
Biking home today I got this idea for a story. Unfortunately only one of the archaic words fit, but as we always say: "Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them", I feel good to go.
A Saturday in the early summer just before the summer holidays. Or in other words towards the end of the first year on Unicorn Farm.
Susan sat on the garden swing when mom and dad returned from shopping. They looked at her, and mom asked, "But Susan! What happened?"
"It was an accident," Susan began, "and I lost my keys, and my bike is broken something terrible, and I think these pair of pants are only good for the bin."
"But what about you?" Mom asked.
"I'm bruised, and now after sitting, I feel stiff and sore all over, but nothing is broken or even sprained. I could walk home."
"Thank God," mom said, "come in and I'll scrub the wounds."
Susan followed mom into the big bathroom upstairs. Her right arm and leg were bloodied and filled with gravel and dirt.
Mom said: "This is going to hurt, but please remember what aunt Iris always says about scrubbing away the dirt?"
"I do! And her threatening to use a brush if hands are not enough!" Susan said, "I won't promise not to yell at you."
"Yell away," mum said, "but keep still."
Mom scrubbed the wounds with soap, as aunt Iris had taught her, and she even had to use a small brush on Susan's elbow. Susan whimpered and yelled a couple of times. Mom dried the wounds carefully with a clean towel, and put a band aid over the worst of them. "Now they're all clean at least, and you will mend. Luckily none of those need stitches."
"Phew!" Susan said, "I feel lucky after all."
When they came downstairs again, Dad had made coffee, and asked Susan to please tell what happened.
"I had been to the woods, as I told you this morning," Susan began.
What she did not tell was that she had been practising growing and plant mending spells in the woods - it was homework, and Thora had told that these spells would be allowed during the week.
"I was on my way home on my bike, when I saw a giant viper on the road just in front of me. It had that zig-zag pattern down its back and it was poised to strike. I could no way avoid it so I pulled up my legs as fast and far as I could. The wheels must have been hot from my hurrying home, because it went for my front tyre. It bit into it so violently that the tube tore, almost exploding, and having my legs up and all and running over the viper ... it threw me and the bike and the viper all together in one big mess.The viper was quite limp, I suppose it died. The bike was punctured and broken, and I was bleeding all over. I sat down and cried."
Susan took a sip of her coffee and continued: "But then I realised that I could not just sit there. Crying would not mend my bike or revive the viper. I don't know which made me more sad ... and I was growing sore and stiff. I tried walking with my bike, but it was too heavy, my arm and leg hurt, and the tube and tyre grated against the mudguard all the time. I could not walk it home."
Susan was again not telling the whole truth. She had pored on mending the bike and herself with magic, but she dared not run the risk of being expelled from Unicorn Farm.
"So in the end I stood my bike against a fence and locked it, then I walked home and discovered that I had lost my key out there too."
"What a luck the viper did not get you," mum said, "and are you sure it was a viper? They are not normally found here. Now at the place where you werre born, there were many vipers, and mice and one day a mouse even ... "
"Drink up your coffee and get into the van," dad interrupted. It was an old story. Mom had told it many times. "There's room for a bike and more in there, and I think that's a job for the mechanic. If we're lucky we can get there before he closes down for today."
"Sounds like a grand plan," mom said. "Susan, when do you need your bike again?"
"Need it," Susan said, "not until Thursday, when we have tennis lessons in the old sports place, but I'd like to have it back Wednesday after school, as we - me and some of the girls from school - planned a trip to the beach."
"That should be doable," dad said. "I know a mechanic, who's good and fast. Get aboard!"
Susan climbed into the van, not without some moaning, the band aids stuck, and she had turned even more stiff and sore.
Susan told dad the way, and they found the bike still standing against the fence in its sad state. Dad searched for Susan's keys, but all he found was the viper, it really was a viper and a huge one for a viper 75 cm from snout to tail, and it's neck was broken. Dad loaded it, and the bike, in the behind of the van and drove very fast until they were again back in town.
"Just stay here, Susan," dad said. "I'll hand in your bike and be back in no time."
"Thanks, dad," Susan said and happily stayed in the van, not savouring the climb up and down once again, and dozed until dad returned and they headed for home.
The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.
In August, Mimi of MessyMimi's Meanderings will supply us with prompts.
It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.
So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.
- - A - - B - - C - -
This Wednesday's prompts:
Easy
Student
Invasion
Encourage
Housing
Spectrum
and/or the following archaic words
Gaud -- a trinket
Moil -- drudgery
Pore on -- think about, dwell on thoughtfully
Biking home today I got this idea for a story. Unfortunately only one of the archaic words fit, but as we always say: "Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them", I feel good to go.
A Saturday in the early summer just before the summer holidays. Or in other words towards the end of the first year on Unicorn Farm.
Susan sat on the garden swing when mom and dad returned from shopping. They looked at her, and mom asked, "But Susan! What happened?"
"It was an accident," Susan began, "and I lost my keys, and my bike is broken something terrible, and I think these pair of pants are only good for the bin."
"But what about you?" Mom asked.
"I'm bruised, and now after sitting, I feel stiff and sore all over, but nothing is broken or even sprained. I could walk home."
"Thank God," mom said, "come in and I'll scrub the wounds."
Susan followed mom into the big bathroom upstairs. Her right arm and leg were bloodied and filled with gravel and dirt.
Mom said: "This is going to hurt, but please remember what aunt Iris always says about scrubbing away the dirt?"
"I do! And her threatening to use a brush if hands are not enough!" Susan said, "I won't promise not to yell at you."
"Yell away," mum said, "but keep still."
Mom scrubbed the wounds with soap, as aunt Iris had taught her, and she even had to use a small brush on Susan's elbow. Susan whimpered and yelled a couple of times. Mom dried the wounds carefully with a clean towel, and put a band aid over the worst of them. "Now they're all clean at least, and you will mend. Luckily none of those need stitches."
"Phew!" Susan said, "I feel lucky after all."
When they came downstairs again, Dad had made coffee, and asked Susan to please tell what happened.
"I had been to the woods, as I told you this morning," Susan began.
What she did not tell was that she had been practising growing and plant mending spells in the woods - it was homework, and Thora had told that these spells would be allowed during the week.
"I was on my way home on my bike, when I saw a giant viper on the road just in front of me. It had that zig-zag pattern down its back and it was poised to strike. I could no way avoid it so I pulled up my legs as fast and far as I could. The wheels must have been hot from my hurrying home, because it went for my front tyre. It bit into it so violently that the tube tore, almost exploding, and having my legs up and all and running over the viper ... it threw me and the bike and the viper all together in one big mess.The viper was quite limp, I suppose it died. The bike was punctured and broken, and I was bleeding all over. I sat down and cried."
Susan took a sip of her coffee and continued: "But then I realised that I could not just sit there. Crying would not mend my bike or revive the viper. I don't know which made me more sad ... and I was growing sore and stiff. I tried walking with my bike, but it was too heavy, my arm and leg hurt, and the tube and tyre grated against the mudguard all the time. I could not walk it home."
Susan was again not telling the whole truth. She had pored on mending the bike and herself with magic, but she dared not run the risk of being expelled from Unicorn Farm.
"So in the end I stood my bike against a fence and locked it, then I walked home and discovered that I had lost my key out there too."
"What a luck the viper did not get you," mum said, "and are you sure it was a viper? They are not normally found here. Now at the place where you werre born, there were many vipers, and mice and one day a mouse even ... "
"Drink up your coffee and get into the van," dad interrupted. It was an old story. Mom had told it many times. "There's room for a bike and more in there, and I think that's a job for the mechanic. If we're lucky we can get there before he closes down for today."
"Sounds like a grand plan," mom said. "Susan, when do you need your bike again?"
"Need it," Susan said, "not until Thursday, when we have tennis lessons in the old sports place, but I'd like to have it back Wednesday after school, as we - me and some of the girls from school - planned a trip to the beach."
"That should be doable," dad said. "I know a mechanic, who's good and fast. Get aboard!"
Susan climbed into the van, not without some moaning, the band aids stuck, and she had turned even more stiff and sore.
Susan told dad the way, and they found the bike still standing against the fence in its sad state. Dad searched for Susan's keys, but all he found was the viper, it really was a viper and a huge one for a viper 75 cm from snout to tail, and it's neck was broken. Dad loaded it, and the bike, in the behind of the van and drove very fast until they were again back in town.
"Just stay here, Susan," dad said. "I'll hand in your bike and be back in no time."
"Thanks, dad," Susan said and happily stayed in the van, not savouring the climb up and down once again, and dozed until dad returned and they headed for home.
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!
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