Hobbit Day Hobbitdag

I dag er det Bilbo og Frodos fælles fødselsdag. Det er den dag, der indleder bogen, den dag, hvor Bilbo giver ringen til Frodo og drager afsted.

Jeg har længe gerne villet finde et vinterdigt af Tolkien, men jeg har kun fundet dette her fra Ringens Herre, og det bestyrker min mistanke om, at han ikke kunne lide vinter og sne:

Når vinterkulden tar rigtig fat
og stenene springer i frostklare nat.
Når søer er sorte, og træer er bare,
da er det ondt i skoven at fare.

-- -- -- --


Today is Hobbit day, Frodo and Bilbo's common birthday. Today it's the anniversary of the party with which the book opens, the day where Bilbo gives the Ring to Frodo and set out on his travels.

I have for long been looking for a poem celebrating snow and winter from J.R.R. Tolkien. Today I found this, fortifying my suspicion that Tolkien did not like snow and winter:

When winter first begins to bite
and stones crack in the frosty night,
when pools are black and trees are bare,
'tis evil in the Wild to fare.

Fødselsdage ~ Birthdays

På min blog fejrer jeg normalt fødselsdage for kendte mennesker, forfattere og den slags, som har betydet noget for mig.
    Derfor er det med triste miner at jeg opdagede at i går, 3. januar, var J.R.R. Tolkiens fødselsdag. 134 år er immervæk noget at fejre.
    Af den grund, og fordi det aldrig er lykkedes for mig at finde et digt af Tolkien, der fortæller om frost og sne, legede jeg med underlige tegnsæt i tekstbehandling, og fandt ud af at Open Office faktisk kan skrive Fëanors runer.

-- ❅ --

On my blog I normally celebrate birthdays by thoe meaning something to me. Therefor it saddened me to see that I forgot J.R.R: Tolkien's 134th birthday yesterday.

As I was unable to find any poem by him celebrating either snow or frost - if you know of one, do tell! - I played around with strange lettering, and discovered that Open Office is up to the challenge of writing using the Tengwar of Fëanor.

Det læses: nostarë manaitë og betyder efter mine ringe evner udi Quenya, det gamle elversprog fra Silmarilion, velsignet fødselsdag.

-- ❅ --

To be read nostarë manaitë and hopefully meaning, as I think it does,  Blessed birthday.

-- 🎂 -- 

I dag er det så Louis Brailles 217. fødselsdag.  -- --   Today is the 217th birthday of Louis Braille. 
⠞ ⠊ ⠇ ⠇ ⠽ ⠅ ⠅⠑    ⠏ ⠡   ⠋ ⠪ ⠙ ⠎ ⠑ ⠎ ⠙ ⠁ ⠛ ⠑ ⠝

Der står Tillykke på fødselsdagen is what it says, meaning Happy Birthday

The Second Oopsie-Moment of the Day

And one more Oopsie, MotherOwl. Among your Keepers You had:

Birthdays - of people known and not so known, mostly poets and writers. I like to cite and celebrate.

and yesterday, Friday, January third, was the 133rd birthday of one of my favourite writers: J.R.R. Tolkien! MotherOwl! You had ONE JOB!

I am as I may have told, still trying t improve my drawing skills by drawing the prompts from the Facebook-based group 365 Days of Drawing Prompts. The prompts for Thursday and Friday were Best Memory and Creativity. I let out the "Best" part and combined them to show some good blogging / creativity memories, that I miss: The TUSAL (Totally Useless Stitch-A-Long) challenge hosted by Daffycat every New moon (More explanation here). But since May 2021 no more TUSAL posts were posted on her blog, everything went over to Facebook. And as I am not a big fan of things happening on Facebook, sadly and reluctantly I stopped my participation in this fun Stitch-A-Long. I still miss this challenge - and many more of the same sort from when the blogosphere was more of a a place for lighthearted stuff and fun challenges than it is today.

Yesterday I drew a New moon with a ball of yarn hanging from its upper horn, and an ORTs jar half hidden behind the lower ... Well, why not just show you?

And all this a very long detour to tell why I choose The Man in the Moon Stayed up too Late for this year's belated celebration of Tolkien's birthday.


The Man in the Moon Stayed up too Late
There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
and there they brew a beer so brown
that the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill.

The ostler has a tipsy cat
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And up and down he runs his bow,
now squeaking high, now purring low,
now sawing in the middle.

The landlord keeps a little dog
that is mighty fond of jokes;
When there's good cheer among the guests,
he cocks an ear at all the jests
and laughs until he chokes.

They also keep a horned cow
as proud as any queen;
But music turns her head like ale,
and makes her wave her tufted tail
and dance upon the green.

And O! the rows of silver dishes
and the store of silver spoons!
For Sunday there's a special pair,
and these they polish up with care
on Saturday afternoons.

The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,
and the cat began to wail;
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,
the cow in the garden madly pranced,
and the little dog chased his tail.

The Man in the Moon took another mug,
and then rolled beneath his chair;
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
till in the sky the stars were pale,
and dawn was in the air.

Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat;
"The white horses of the Moon,
they neigh and champ their silver bits;
but their master's been and drowned his wits,
and the Sun'll be rising soon!"

So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,
a jig that would wake the dead:
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,
while the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:
"It's after three!" he said.

They rolled the Man slowly up the hill
and bundled him into the Moon,
while the horses galloped up in rear,
and the cow came capering like a deer,
and a dish ran up with a spoon.

Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;
the dog began to roar,
the cow and the horses stood on their heads;
The guests all bounded from their beds
and danced upon the floor.

With a ping and a pong the fiddle-strings broke!
the cow jumped over the Moon,
and the little dog laughed to see such fun,
and the Saturday dish went off at a run
with the silver Sunday spoon.

The round Moon rolled behind the hill,
as the Sun raised up her head.
She hardly believed her fiery eyes:
For though it was day, to her surprise
they all went back to bed!

Hobbit day & Week :: Hobbitdag og -uge

Hamlette @ The Edge of the Precipice is hosting a Hobbit Week blog party for the 12th time. I am happy to participate and she makes it easy on us by saying: "If you don't have any ideas of things to post, you can always simply fill out the tag, which you'll find below."

The only real rules are: 

• your post must be related to Tolkien and his creations somehow, 
• your post should contain a link back to this post so people can find the party and join the fun, and 
• your post needs to be respectful and family-friendly (this is a celebration, so please don't contribute any rants or whiny posts). 

~ ::  ~  ∴  ~ :: ~

This year's tag is inspired by some of the most famous locations in Middle-Earth. Here it is:


1. The Shire:  What place in Middle-earth do you think you would feel the most like home for you?

As I like a quiet life of good food and a sprinkle of adventures now and then, the Shire would be the place for me.

2. Bree:  If you could create a Middle-earth-themed restaurant, what would you serve there?

I would take my inspiration from Beorn's meals, and from the World of Warcraft cookbook, serving hearty, wholesome food made from local flora and fauna (or Olvar and Kelvar as the Elves would put it.)
The menu would include Beer Basted Boar Ribs, Braised Riverbeast, good bread, honey, loads of mushrooms and veggies. Funnily this had me thinking of the meals described in Paksenarrion -  The Jolly Potboy in Brewersbridge

3. Rivendell:  Where in Middle-earth would you like to hang out with your friends for a week or so?

I would like to travel from the Shire to Bree and over the Misty Mountains to Beorn's home - but not into Mirkwood. This would probably take way more than a week.

4. Moria:  Have you ever delved into the history of Middle-earth (or the history of Tolkien's creative process)?  If so, did you learn anything cool you'd like to share?

I have delved deep into the history of Middle-earth, its people, languages and animals. I learned that they are people, same as we are.

5. Lothlorien:  Would you like to sleep in a tree?

Oh, yes, I would, so far I've slept under trees, and between trees, but never in one.

6. Edoras:  Do you like horses?

I do like horses, and always planned to learn how to ride one, once the Owlets had left the nest. They have not yet.

7. Minas Tirith:  Have you ever dressed as a Tolkien character, whether for a convention or Halloween or anything else?  (Bonus fake internet points if you share a photo!)

No, strangely enough, I never did. I have dressed the Owlets as Hobbits, Elven warriors and even an orc, but myself, never.

8. Erebor:  Do you have any Middle-earth merchandise you particularly treasure?

I have a golden ring, looking much like the One Ring, and I even own a real chainmail ;) I wonder if it fits me still.

9. Mordor:  Have you ever read anything by Tolkien that wasn't about Middle-earth?

Oh yes, I've read Leaf by Niggle, Farmer Giles of Ham, Tree and Leaf (Leaf by Niggle is also in here), Smith of Wooton Major, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and Ancrene Wisse. I've used his Middle English Vocabulary, and even read Ave Maria and Pater Noster in Quenya.  

10. The Grey Havens:  How long has it been since you last ventured into Middle-earth via book or film?

   Book? a week. One of the Owlets is reading Lord of the Rings, and I borrowed the book in the train and read a bit, as he had finished a chapter and needed a break. I read small bits frequently.
   Film? 2015, when I saw The Hobbit 3 in the cinema. The films does not fascinate me, I of course find the sceneries of The Lord of the Rings  magnificent, as well as the nature and horses and Ents, and the characters (most of them*) ... But the way the plot has been almost re-made, bent and twisted, does not sit well with me. As I said back then: The movies contain too much Peter Jackson and too little Hobbit for my taste. And I miss the songs, the banter, the languages and the  seriousness and gaiety that for me is a major part of Tolkien's world.

 - - - - - - - - - - -
*) I was always sorely disappointed with Galadriel as portrayed by Cate Blanchett. And with the "clowny" dwarves of The Hobbit too.

Words for Wednesday :: Updated with IWSG January 3

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

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

-- 💭 --

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

For today we had five food related sayings:

Too many cooks spoil the broth
The apple of my eye
Pie in the sky
Not for all the tea in China
Spill the beans

-- 🍞- 🐟 -🍎 --

"Not for all the tea in China" - I always loved this saying, and I would be sorely temped by that offer. For me the saying is old fashioned in a good way, cozy, and warm. I love to drink tea and eat cakes. and today, January 3rd, is a great day for doing so.

Why? Because today is the 132nd birthday of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. And for me his Hobbits encompass all that can be subsume under tea-time.
Today I'd like to tell - as is my wont - of one of J.R.R. Tolkien's poems. The Lonely Troll. It is published in The Adventures of Tom Bombadil under the fictional authorship of Samwise Gamgee.

This introduction is taken from Tolkien Gateway:

The Lonely Troll is one of the main characters in Samwise Gamgee's playful nonsense poem, Perry-the-Winkle. This was a very unusual Troll: He wanted friends, he did not steal, drink beer, or even eat meat, and most amazingly of all, he was a very good cook. The Lonely Troll lived in the hills of Faraway ...

The Lonely Troll is a very long poem, all of 16 verses. I selected only six of the verses, giving a short abstract of the missing parts, but if you want to read all of it, I'm sure it can be found somewhere in the nooks and crannies of the WWW if you do not own a copy of The Adventures of Tom Bombadil.

Verses 1 & 7-10 & 16 of The Lonely Troll.

The Lonely Troll he sat on a stone
and sang a mournful lay:
"O why, O why must I live on my own
in the hills of Faraway?
My folk are gone beyond recall
and take no thought of me;
alone I’m left, the last of all
from Weathertop to the Sea."

[...]
The Lonely troll then goes to the Shire, but scares everybody away, only not Perry-the-Winkle, a brave and friendly Hobbit
[...]

The old Troll sadly sat and wept
outside the Lockholes gate,
and Perry-the-Winkle up he crept
and patted him on the pate.
"O why do you weep, you great big lump?
You’re better outside than in!"
He gave the Troll a friendly thump,
and laughed to see him grin.

"O Perry-the-Winkle boy," he cried,
"come, you’re the lad for me!
Now if you’re willing to take a ride,
I’ll carry you home to tea."
He jumped on his back and held on tight,
and "Off you go!" said he;
and the Winkle had a feast that night,
and sat on the old Troll’s knee.

There were pikelets, there was buttered toast,
and jam, and cream, and cake,
and the Winkle strove to eat the most,
though his buttons all should break.
The kettle sang, the fire was hot,
the pot was large and brown,
and the Winkle tried to drink the lot,
in tea though he should drown.

When full and tight were coat and skin,
they rested without speech,
till the old Troll said: "I’ll now begin
the baker’s art to teach,
the making of beautiful cramsome bread,
of bannocks light and brown;
and then you can sleep on a heather-bed
with pillows of owlet’s down."

[...]
  After returning home, well fed and happy, Perry-the-Winkle won't tell where he's been, but a Hobbit aptly named Peeping Jack had seen him ride the Lonely Troll's back to the Hills of Faraway.
  The other Hobbits them went there to also partake of the Troll's cramsome bread and fulsome tea, but were sent away by the Lonely Troll.
  Perry-the-Winkle on the other hand, was invited to visit the Troll every Thursday to learn his culinary arts and have tea with him.
[...]

The Winkle a baker great became,
as still is said in song;
from the Sea to Bree there went the fame
of his bread both short and long.
But it weren’t so good as the cramsome bread;
no butter so rich and free,
as every Thursday the old Troll spread
for Perry-the-Winkle’s tea.

 - - - - - -

Today is also the first Wednesday of the month. Time for the monthly Question from the Insecure Writers' Support Group

January 3 question: Do you follow back your readers on BookBub or do you only follow back other authors?

My answer: Blank stare. I do not know what BookBub is.
  But then I do not do much on social medias of any kind. I do have a FB account, but I only seldom go there, and post once in a blue moon  - and then only in groups for very specific interests like weaving, soaping, plant dyeing, gardening and so on. Same goes for IG, where I just 'like' photos posted by family and friends.
  Blogging is my poison.

Tolkien 131

Today marks the 131th year of J.R.R. Tolkien's birth.
To celebrate, I cite one of the to me lesser known poems. It is taken from the very last chapter of The Hobbit - an Elvish lullaby to make Bilbo sleep himself healthy and hale.
Many happy returns and a deepfelt thank you for the fantasy and poetry.

Sing all ye joyful, now sing all together!
The wind’s in the tree-top, the wind's in the heather;
The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower,
And bright are the windows of Night in her tower.

Dance all ye joyful, now dance all together!
Soft is the grass, and let foot be like feather!
The river is silver, the shadows are fleeting;
Merry is May-time, and merry our meeting.

Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave him!
Wind him in slumber and there let us leave him!
The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be his pillow!
Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow!

Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn!
     Fall Moon! Dark be the land!
     Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash, and Thorn!
Hushed be all water, till dawn is at hand!

J.R.R. Tolkien The Hobbit, The Last Stage.

Hobbit Day

Today is Hobbit day.

A day to celebrate J.R.R. Tolkien's works. Always on the 22nd of September, the birthday of Bilbo and Frodo.

For the tenth time Rachel at The Edge of the Precipice is hosting an Annual Tolkien Blog Party. Thanks to Lissa for refreshing my memory of this party.

To celebrate today, Rachel invites us to a game of tag, and I'd like to play. Here are her questions and my answers.

-- 0 --

1. Who first introduced you to Middle Earth?
     I do not remember, I think I just stumbled over The lord of the Rings in a deserted corner of the local library.

2. Has your love of Middle-earth affected your life?
     Yes. We often do things that are Middle-earth related, shooting bows and arrows, mushroom gathering, playing, talking, cooking ... even bathing ;)
     And for many years I have been playing first Dungeons and Dragons (a pen and paper game) and later World of Warcraft (online game). None of these would ever had existed without Tolkien's works.
     We often talk of persons and creatures from Tolkien's works, and as his works also are morally deep, but veiled in literature, they are good starting and ending points for theological, moral, and ethical discussions.
     I have taught myself a lot of Quenya and Sindarin and the writing of Tengwar (Fëanor's runes).
    
3. Have you ever dressed up like a Tolkien character?
   No, I never dressed up myself as a Tolkien character. But I have on many occasions dressed up my children - or helped them dress up as - Elven warriors, Hobbits, Dwarwes, and even a Goblin. All thanks to Tolkien.

4. What people in your real life would you want in your company if you had to take the ring to Mordor?
     My husband, my children, and a man I know who is a 'survive in nature' and martial arts specialist. That makes nine ;)

5. What Middle-earth location would you most like to visit?
     The Shire, Mirkwood, Fangorn, Rivendell, Lothlorien, Edoras, Beorn's house, ... all of Rohan, Helm's Deep  ... everywhere, only not Mordor actually.

6. Are there any secondary characters you think deserve more attention?
     I have always wanted to hear more of the other Istari, Gandalf's co-wizards - I would like to hear the true story, not the strangely distorted version from the movies ;) I wonder if Tom Bombadil is one of them ... lor at least related. And what about Beorn? ... So many questions.

7. Would you rather attend Faramir's wedding or Samwise's wedding?
     Rosie and Sam's wedding. I am much more drawn to the cosy and abundant hobbit parties than to grandiose state happenings - these are what I like to watch on TV, but to attend, a Hobbit wedding wins!

8. How many books by J.R.R. Tolkien have you read?
     I think I've read every fiction book he ever wrote, and I even read bits of his scholarly works.

9. Are there any books about Middle-earth or Professor Tolkien (but not written by him) that you recommend?
     J.R.R. Tolkien - A Biography by Humphrey Carpenter.

10. List up to ten of your favourite lines/quotations from the Middle-earth books and/or movies.
     It is the songs that really stays with me, and I am hard put to find a favourite here. It depends on time, mood and place.
     But the best performed song is according to me Far over the misty Mountains from the first Hobbit movie. It was just perfect - as were all the music in that part. we were sorely disappointed this was not continued in the two sequels.

Using today's words & IWSG - July question

The last batch of Words in June was given by me, and can be found here. I repeat:
     Humdrum, Hapless, Righteous, Puny, Troubled, Quirky.

I am - once again -  continuing the story of the mysterious examination in transformation and using the words in the order they were given. 
I'm still not satisfied with the story or my writing skills. But I want to tell this story! Bits and pieces are missing. This whole chapter is in for a solid re-write before making it into the book. But as I can't just leave out a bit of the story, here we go:

The humdrum process of reading through pages and pages of encyclopedias on mammals, marsupials and other animals in Australia, was interrupted at regular intervals by someone reading aloud when they found a relevant passage.
"Tigers!" Kalle said, "There is an Australian tiger." He paused looking down into the book again: "The Thy-la-cine, wow hope I said this right - is an extinct, or possibly extinct - this means died out, doesn't it?" Knud nodded and Kalle read on: "a carnivorous marsupial that was native to the Australian mainland and the islands of Tasmania and New Guinea. It is commonly known as the Tasmanian tiger or the Tasmanian wolf. The Tasmanian tiger was relatively shy and nocturnal, with the general appearance of a medium-to-large-size canid." He stopped. "What's that?"
"Canid?" Hilde said, Kalle nodded his blonde head and Hilde continued. "Canid is the adjective to canine, meaning as or of a dog. That means dog-like, or a member of the dog-family!"
"Thanks," Kalle said and went on: "This then means that it looks like a medium sized dog except for its stiff tail and abdominal pouch similar to that of a kangaroo."
He drew a deep breath: "The Tasmanian tiger was an expert predator; but exactly how large its prey animals were is disputed. Its closest living relatives are the other members of Da-sy-u-ro-mor-phi - another of those big words," Kalle said with  sigh "including the Tasmanian devil - good old Taz!"

"Are they extinct or are they not?" Hilde asked impatiently.

"The last hapless specimen, a male, died in a zoo in 1936. Since then people claim to have seen some, but none have been photographed or caught."

They read on in silence.

"When is our deadline?" Kirstin suddenly asked.

"I know!" Hilde said with a righteous mien. "Today, just before lunch!"

"We're in deep trouble," Kirstin answered. "Lunch is at one o'clock as always. Now it's almost eleven. Two hours to solve this. Our puny magic is not up to this!"

"Earth!" Knud exclaimed. "That was what was troubling me. We're missing the last clue from Jon, the last element!"

"You sure have a quirky mind," Susan said.

"You're right," Hilde said to Knud and at the same time a stone came in through the window. Kirstin looked out, but she could only see the empty yard below and the branches criss-crossing overhead.


- - - - -

July 6 question - If you could live in any book world, which one would you choose?
This is an impossible to answer question!
   I would like to live in several book worlds, the Hobbits' Middle-Earth, the magical world of Harry Potter, Laura Ingalls Wilder's prairie home, Paksenarrion's mediaeval world, the high fantasy "Earth" of Paul Anderson's Three Hearts and Three Lions, The Broken Sword, or Operation Chaos, or the Avalon from People of the Wind. Or the musroomy village of the Smurfs. Or the forlorn planets of Enemy Mine.  Or the Palumbian rainforest where Marsipilami are to be found. Or the world where the right dime handed to a newspaper man is a portal to a parallel world. Or Xanth. Or Landover. Or Araluen, home of Rangers' Apprentice. Or the Ringworld. Or Kardemommeby. Or the underseas colonies of a short story the name of which eludes me. Or Pern, as described in the first books and the Harper's Hall series. Or Salzburg and surroundings from The Sound of Music. Or the sewers of New York together with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Or the cosy town of Bullerby. Or some of the worlds invented by Olga Godim. Or the postapocalyptic, world from The Waveries. Or my own Unicorn Farm ...
  Do you see a common trait? Worlds with magic, friends and family, and order fighting chaos.

J.R.R.Tolkien 130 Years

I bow to the master of tales and poetry on his 130 birthday. May he be celebrated in Nûmenor or wherever he is today!

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold; where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on the height,
The wind was moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale;
The dragon's ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon;
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!

 J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

Poetry Monday :: Favourite Breakfast

If you want to read some good poetry,  Diane - who has taken over the hosting of  this challenge - and Mimi of Messymimi's Meanderings - who also supplies us with topics - are writing wonderful, funny, thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and read.

  Karen of Baking in a Tornado has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month - may  we hope for more!
  SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments.

  Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey who has been a faithful participant, is taking a break due to her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way.

I have something more to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.

Illegal hobbit?
My favourite breakfast is
the second one

- - - - - - - - - -

Topics coming up:
Memorial Day (May 31)
Best Friends Day (from June 8) (June 7)
Monkey Around Day (June 14)
Fathers (June 21)
Bubbles (June 28)

J.R.R. Tolkien's Birthday

Do you see the Ents?

  Today marks the 129th anniversary of the birth of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien.
   As I answered Elephant's Child in a comment last year I would greatly prefer to discuss matters like the whereabouts of entwives and the intricacies of Elven languages, or the quality of Pipeweed from Southfarthing through the years, or even the whys and hows of hair on Hobbit feet to the adversities on modern time if I ever come to sit beside a fireplace with him in the West.



The Verse of Ents and Entwives, From the fourth chapter (Treebeard) of The Two Towers.

Ent:When spring unfolds the beechen leaf, and sap is in the bough;
When light is on the wild-wood stream, and wind is on the brow;
When stride is long, and breath is deep, and keen the mountain air,
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is fair!

Entwife:When Spring is come to garth and field, and corn is in the blade;
When blossom like a shining snow is on the orchard laid;
When shower and Sun upon the Earth with fragrance fill the air,
I'll linger here, and will not come, because my land is fair!

Ent:When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold
Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold;
When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West,
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is best!

Entwife:When Summer warms the hanging fruit and burns the berry brown;
When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest comes to town;
When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in the West,
I'll linger here beneath the Sun, because my land is best!

Ent:When Winter comes, the winter wild that hill and wood shall slay;
When trees shall fall and starless night devour the sunless day;
When wind is in the deadly East, then in the bitter rain
I'll look for thee, and call to thee; I'll come to thee again!

Entwife:When Winter comes, and singing ends; when darkness falls at last;
When broken is the barren bough, and light and labour past;
I'll look for thee, and wait for thee, until we meet again:
Together we will take the road beneath the bitter rain!

Both:Together we will take the road that leads into the West,
And far away will find a land where both our hearts may rest.

Hobbit Day -- 22/9 -- Hobbitdag

 Mimi tells us that today is Hobbit Day -- Bilbo's and Frodo's Birth anniversary

   As one of the things I enjoy most in the books are the merry Hobbits and the exuberant poetry of Hobbits, Dwarves and Elves. I'd like to cite the Song of Plates - The Washing Song - Chip the Glasses (whatever its real title is) from The Hobbit. 
  If you want to hear Tolkien himself sing this song, he's right here. Thank you River for the inspiration. If it does not work, just follow the link.

Chip the glasses and crack the plates!
Blunt the knives and bend the forks!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates -
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!

Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!
Pour the milk on the pantry floor!
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!
Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl,
Pound them up with a thumping pole;
And when you’ve finished if any are whole,
Send them down the hall to roll!

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
So, carefully! carefully with the plates!

Poetry Monday :: Ancestor ... Not Mine

Mimi of Messymimi's Meanderings and Diane of On the Border  are taking turns supplying us with a topic for this weekly endeavour. They also always write wonderful, either funny, thought-provoking, ingenious or simply good verse. Go and read.
   Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey is taking a break due to her husband's ill health. Let's send warm thoughts, good energy and lots of prayers their way. 

  Today I am feeling run down, hung up, and sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread, for this reason I won't be participating in Poetry Monday with a verse of my own. But participate I will. I always felt related to the Hobbits. Frodo and Bilbo, Merry, Pippin, Sam and all the other Hobbits are among my ancestry - at least in the spirit. 
  I'm off to have my second breakfast, and so I'll let J.R.R. Tolkien speak for me:  

Lament For Gandalf - by Frodo 
When evening in the Shire was grey
his footsteps on the Hill were heard;
before the dawn he went away
on journey long without a word.

From Wilderland to Western shore,
from northern waste to southern hill,
through dragon-lair and hidden door
and darkling woods he walked at will.

With Dwarf and Hobbit, Elves and Men,
with mortal and immortal folk,
with bird on bough and beast in den,
in their own secret tongues he spoke.

A deadly sword, a healing hand,
a back that bent beneath its load;
a trumpet-voice, a burning brand,
a weary pilgrim on the road.

A lord of wisdom throned he sat,
swift in anger, quick to laugh;
an old man in a battered hat
who leaned upon a thorny staff.

He stood upon the bridge alone
and Fire and Shadow both defied;
his staff was broken on the stone,
in Khazad-dûm his wisdom died.
     (Fellowship of the Ring, Book 2)

128th Birthday of J.R.R Tolkien

I Sit and Think by J. R. R. Tolkien
Happy 128th birthday


 I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall never see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

Tak -- Thank you

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

     -- 🔥 --

Ikke alt af guld kan glitre,
Hver den, der vandrer, forvilder sig ej;
Gamlingens styrke vil ikke forvitre,
Ikke til roden vil frost finde vej.

Op af asken ild skal vækkes,
Mørket føder lys som brand;
Atter smedes sværd, der knækkes,
Konge igen bliver kroneløs mand.

     - 🎆 - 🎆 -


Tillykke med de 127 år til J.R.R. Tolkien.
Happy 127th birthday, J.R.R. Tolkien.

Bilbos Badesang -- Bilbo's Bathing song

Today marks the 126th anniversary of  J.R.R.Tolkien's birth.
Let's celebrate with a cozy, Hobbit themed verse.


Sing hey! For the bath at close of day
that washes the weary mud away
A loon is he that will not sing
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!

O! Sweet is the sound of falling rain,
and the brook that leaps from hill to plain;
but better then rain or rippling streams
is Water Hot that smokes and steams.

O! Water cold we may pour at need
down a thirsty throat and be glad indeed
but better is beer if drink we lack,
and Water Hot poured down the back.

O! Water is fair that leaps on high
in a fountain white beneath the sky;
but never did fountain sound so sweet
as splashing Hot Water with my feet!

På ture og i køkkenet

Foraging and preserving

     Det kan godt være at Ugleboet har en stor, vild have. Mend er er mange ting, der ikke vokser i den. Så af og til svinger Uglemor sig på sin trofaste jernhest, stikker kniven i bæltet og tager på jagt. Bare rolig. Det er kun svampe og andet stillestående bytte der ender i Uglemors saddeltasker. Tolkiens elver ville sige, jeg kun jagtede Olvar - levene ting, der ikke vandrer rundt. Modsætningen er Kelvar: levende ting, der flytter sig. 
     Så de seneste dage har Uglemor cyklet og vandret omegnen og haven tynd med sin trofaste plukkekurv. Den har været med i haven, på indkøb - cykelturen til nærmeste indkøb går gennem en skov - og bare på ture i  skovene og langs de små veje i omegnen.
     Uglemor har plukket krydderurter, blomster, kvæder, hyben, tjørnebær, slåen, hyldebær og svampe. 

Even if the Owlery has a big, unruly garden not everything grows there. Sometimes MotherOwl jumps onto the bike -  humorously called the Iron Horse - brings her knife and goes hunting. But it's only mushrooms and other standing targets that end up in MotherOwls saddlebags - the Elves of Middle Earth would say I hunted Olvar - living things that do not move from place to place - as opposed to kelvar, living things that do move.
The last week or so MotherOwl has brought her foraging basket everywhere. In the garden, shopping - the ride to the nearest city brings MortherOwl and her Iron horse through the woods - and on foraging trips along the lanes and pathways of the surroundings.
The bag has contained quinces, haws, herbs and flowers, rose hibs, sloe berries, elderberries and mushrooms. 

+ + ¤ ¤ + +

Her er et smugkik på jagtudbyttet:

A preview of the bag.

+ + ¤ ¤ + +

Bær: Hyben, tjørnebær og slåen

Berries: Rose hibs, haws, and sloe.

+ + ¤ ¤ + +

Blomster: morgenfruer - pænt sorteret i orange og gule. Der var også tallerkensmækkere, mælkebøtter og moskat-katost i kurven. 

In the basket, flowers - Marigold petals, sorted in yellow and orange hues. It also contained nasturtium, dandelion and musk mallows.

+ + ¤ ¤ + +

Så blev det regnvejr, og Uglemor gik i køkkenet. Krydderurterne blev blendet med salt og blev ligesom blomsterbladene spredt ud på tallerkener til at tørre. Svampene blev sorteret, de spiselige endte på middagsbordet, og farvesvampene (Cortinarius cinnamomeus) blev delt i hat og stok og tørret.

The rain came, and MotherOwl went into the kitchen.  Chopped the spices whit salt, placed the flowers on plates to dry, and sorted the mushrooms. The edible ones were had for dinner, the dyers (Cortinarius cinnamomeus) were dried stipes and caps separately.

+ + ¤ ¤ + +

     Alle bærrene blev kogt til gelé. Nogle med større held and andre. Her dryp-dryp-drypper de kogte bær i en mormor-opfindelse. Jeg klemmer bærmassen tilsidst. Det gør ikke så meget, hvis min gele bliver lidt uklar, der bliver mere af den, og den smager af mere.

All the berries were made into jelly. Some were more tasty than other. Here the mashed, boiled berries are slowly drip-drip-dripping away. This system, I learned from my grandmother, who never ovned a jam strainer. I do not refrain from squeezing. I don't mind my jam a bit cloudy, and those last drops are the tastiest.

+ + ¤ ¤ + +

     De forskellige slags indtil nu. Fra toppen og ned:
Grøn tomatgelé med vanille (ikke mere af den).
Tjørn (der skal laves mere!). Rønnebær (flot farve, grim smag - bliver ikke gentaget). 
Kvæde (kog bare hele busken!) Slåen (mere,  tak. Måske med lidt alkohol i). Æble (Spild af god frugt, lav mos i stedet).

The different jams so far. Top down:
Green tomatoes with vanilla (No thanks, not tasty as a jelly)
Haws (yes please - more to come). Rowan (pretty colour ugly taste. No more)
Quince ( yummy). Sloe (more incoming, maybe with a drop of gin). Apple (waste of apples, make applesauce instead) 

125 år -- 125 Years

The Road goes ever on and on

The Road goes ever on and on
down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
and I must follow, if I can.

Pursuing it with eager feet,
until it joins some larger way,
where many paths and errands meet.
and whither then? I cannot say.

J.R.R. Tolkien
The Fellowship of the Ring
A Long-expected Party

Vandringssang fra Ringens herre

Ja, altid længere vejen går
væk fra sit udspring ved min dør.
Langt forud er nu vejen nået
og jeg må følge, hvis jeg tør.

Forfølge den med lange skridt
indtil den når en større vej
som mange veje støder til,
og hvorhen så? Det ved jeg ej.


I dag ville J.R.R. Tolkien være fyldt 125 år,  Uglemor håber at han bliver tilbørligt fejret i Valinor.
Today is J.R.R. Tolkiens 125th birthday. MothreOwl hopes he is duly celebrated in Valinor.

Et elfje -- An Elfje

• 
  Danger - road ahead - The first step - Wants more to follow - Pilgrimage
•  
  Tak til J.R.R.Tolkien for inspiration.
  Inspired by J.R.R.Tolkien

Vejen Hjem -- 13/1 -- On My Way Home

     Så er det tirsdag igen. I dag er det overskyet, og derfor bælgmørkt stadigvæk klokken  kvart i otte.
     Solen skulle efter DMIs oplysninger stå op 8.37, og det har den nok gjort, eftersom der nu er gråt i stedet for sort udenfor vinduet.
     Billedteksten er en enkelt linje fra dværgenes sang om Morias fald fra første kapitel i Hobbitten. Det var en stor, glædelig overraskelse for os at der faktisk var sange med i Hobbitten, da den blev filmatiseret, men det var desværre kun i første del at der var sange og musik. Bevares Hobbiten som film er flot, og de landskaber er en fryd for øjet, men der er for meget Peter Jackson og alt for lidt hobbit for min smag.

We must away, ere break of day, (Vi må herfra før det bli'r dag)
(J.R.R. Tolkien The Hobbit)

Once again it's Tuesday. Today is cloudy and dark. The bus leaves at quarter to eight, and not much later, I reach the lamppost I have chosen as camera rest for this feature. The Sun was supposed to rise at 8:37, and I suppose it did, as it's now grey instead of black outside.
And here's the whole stanza from "An Unexpected Journey" the first chapter of The Hobbit I remember the sung version from the promising first part of the Hobbit as a movie. The song was a delight, the tune just right, and the dwarven voices hit the spot. We all felt very disappointed over part 2 and especially part 3 of the movie, no songs, no music, and where did the lightness and mischievous elven ways go?

Far over the misty mountains cold             Fjernt over tåget bjerg og dal
To dungeons deep and caverns old            Til kælder dyb og gammel sal
We must away, ere break of day,                Vi må herfra før det blir dag
To claim our long-forgotten gold               Og atter følge guldets kald.

Solopgang/solnedgang: 8:37/16:01, dagens længde 7:24, tiltaget 0:33 (DMI)