20. 27. september

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Words for Wednesday 18 september -- No Story

  Today Dolores of Mumblings have given us three sets of four words. I have still a problem with her prompts, as she is closing down her blog due to a troll. Also Susan and her Unicorn Farm seems to have come to a standstill, but she still fills up my brain, so what is one poor MotherOwl to do?
  At least I can bring the words for others to see. If a story or two shows up they will have a post of their own.  

kindness
handicapped
blessings
fight or flight

and/or

gruff
spike
hurry
include

and/or

blind
chance
fright
frigid

Poetry Monday :: A Funny Joke

Dear Diane, A funny joke poem ... I can't do this.

I have been writing all my life,
I wrote of happiness and strife.
I have been writing for so long,
Sad stories, epic tales and songs.

I wrote of gardens, wind an weather.
I even wrote of golden feathers.
Most of my funny jokes ar puns,
Alas in English, they're not fun(s).
And jokes are not the stuff of rhyme.
I'll have to pass on rhyme this time.

Eftersommerglæder - Late Summer in the Garden

     Uglemor synes, at vi burde indføre flere årstider. Det er jo ikke rigtig efterår endnu. Lad os indføre forsommer og eftersommer, sådan at der hedder:

1. Vinter: Det er klodt, mørkt og måske sne. 
2. Forår: det er stadig koldt men der er vintergækker og andre forårstegn. 
3. Forsommer: Nu kan man komme i jorden, vi kan så, men ikke sidde ude om aftenen endnu. 
4. Sommer: Man kan gå i vandet og sidde ude længe, der er jordbær og hindbær i haven. Der skal luges og vandes. Varmt og ferie. 
5. Eftersommer: Høsttid. Korn, bær, nødder og frugter modner. Himmelen er stadig høj og blå. Det er rart at være ude stadigvæk.
6. Efterår: Nu falder bladene af træerne, det stormer, regner og bliver koldt. Vi finder overtøjet frem igen.

     I dag skinnede solen, og selv om vi havde gæster, blev der både tid til en tur efter nødder - hvor er der bare mange i år - og en sen eftermiddags-havevandring.

-- 📅 --

 This time of year MotherOwl always thinks that it is not Fall yet. We need more seasons. In Danish we have some old names, like English has Fall and Autumn.
 I suggest six seasons:

1. Winter - this one is obvious, cold, dark, sometimes it snows. 
2. Spring - It gets a bit warmer, spring flowers peep through, birds are returning, but it is still cold outside, it even snows sometimes. 
3. Early Summer - You begin to sow and plant, but it's still not warm enough to stay outdoors in the evening or for a swin in the sea. 
4. Summer - Now it's nice outside. It's a time for leisure and fun, we can stay outside all the time if we like. 
5. Autumn - harvest time, grains, berries, nuts and fruits ripen, It is still nice outside. 
6. Fall - the leaves are falling from the trees, it is windy and colder. You need to put on more clothes to go out. 

Today the Sun shone, it was really nice outside. I went foraging for hazelnuts, and late in the afternoon, after the guests had left,  it was time for a walk in the garden.

-- 🌳 --

Dansk ingefær, smuk og giftig --  Arum in Danish called "Danish ginger" as poisonous as it is pretty.

Jordbærrene blomstrer igen, de når nok ikke at give bær, men det er kønt. 

-- 

Strawberries flowering. A pretty sight, but the berries won't make it before the frost.

Vi har fået en ny halmballe at skyde efter. -- A new bale of straw for target practice.

Rabarberne er snart store nok til flere kager (ja de trænger til at blive luget) 

--

The rhubarbs are soon ready to be made into muffins once again (maybe a weeding would be nice)

Skællet stilkporesvamp, spiselig, med kedelig, så vi nøjes med at nyde den med øjnene 

--

Dryad's saddle - edible but bland. It's a pleasure to look at though.

Solsikke -- Sunflower

Vores nye stakit er ikke færdigt endnu, men det skyder allerede -- Our new fence. Not finished, but already sprouting.

Røde tallerkensmækkere og vores nye ukrudt, Almindelig hanekro. Sidste år var der en enkelt plante, i år er de alle vejne, og de kradser  

--

Red Tropaeolum and Common hemp-nettle, our new weed. Last year we had one, this year they're everywhere, and they're scratchy to the touch.

Flere tallerkensmækkere, nu gule, og morgenfruer -- More Tropaeolum, now yellow, and marigolds.

Dagens høst af tomater og en anden frugt -- The tomato harvest - can you spot the odd one out?

Vores troldhassel har også nødder i år. De er pænt store og smager godt 

--

 Our corkscrew hazel carries nuts this year, they are fairly big and tasty.

Kan man se dyrene her? Vi har et hvepsebo inde under tagrenden. Det er vi ikke så glade for 

--

 Can you spot the animals here? We have a wasps' nest inside the house. We're not happy about this.

Words for Wednesday - Defiantly writing

Well no stupid, mean troll is going to stop my writing. 
Delores at Mumblings.  have given us:

The season that speaks to your heart

And/or

So many ways to say 'I'm sorry'

 Once again I'm traveling back in time. As I told, Susan lived in a coastal town and the Unicorn Farm was on an island situated almost two hours by car away from Susan's home town.  At least with the stops required by us children :)The Easter Fire had several repercussions on the Farm and in the magical households. Here's a story of one of them.

 The first day in the Pentecostal mini-holidays, Hilde arrived carrying a humongous load of freshly baked buns. She placed them on a central table, and continued to produce jars of homemade jams and honey from her bags. Even some freshly churned butter had found its way into her bags, swaddled in humid tea towels. An Thora came into the room, the table was laid out for a feast.
 Hilde got up and spoke: "I made it all by myself from scratch, and I mean totally from scratch. I milked the cows, picked the berries, harvested the wheat, stole the honey from the bees, and so on. The only store bought thing in the whole lot is probably the yeast."
 Thora and the other apprentices looked at her in astonishment.
 "You know the old proverb: 'So many ways to say I'm sorry'. This is mine. I realize I have been a pompous ass. I am an only child of two magical parents and they home-schooled me, and taught me everything they knew both about magic and the world. We live far away in the country, and we're used to being self reliant and hard working. But I've been thinking .. a lot ... since the Easter holidays.
 That Fire jumping, you all cheered My and Rosa on, but when I had to jump, I felt all your eyes on me, filled with despise, maybe even hatred. It filled me with a feeling, I did not know how to describe. It even made me forget the spell, and for the first time ever, I knew how it must be to not be able to make your homework with ease, not be able to remember the words or somatics.
 No one congratulated me after my walk through the Fire, I have never felt so alone and useless in my life. I have been thinking ever since. Maybe it's better to be friends than to be right. Sorry ... friends?"
"Friends!" all the other apprentices agreed.
 Together they ate all the delicious buns,  discussed the jams and the honey and marveled over how yellow the butter was. Hilde explained how she had done, whenever someone asked, but without bragging or showing off.
"Aren't you afraid of the bees?" Susan asked. "I live in a town, but whenever we go on a pick nick I'm always afraid of the bees."
"I'm dressed in protective gear from top to toe," Hilde explained. "And bees are generally nice insects, not bothering people - except when stealing their honey, or stepping on them by accident. It was probably not even bees you met. Bees are only interested in flowers or honey not in your pick nick, I think it might have been wasps. Thora, can you show us the difference?"
 Thora nodded and broke two small pieces of the bun she was eating, swung the wand over one of them: "Alibýfluga!" she said. "This is a bee."
 As if to prove her words, it went straight for the honey pot. Everybody laughed.
"Holugeitungur," she said, making the relevant gestures over the other piece of bun. "And this is a wasp. A black and yellow wasp flew from her hand, and with an angry buzzing went for one of the jars of jam. From there it flew to the window, making more than one frightened apprentice shrink from it. Thora went for it with a fly swatter.
 "You're right," Susan said. "Wasps, not bees, have been ruining our pick nicks. I'll never mistake one for the other again."
 The lesson developed into a general telling of tales abut insects, animals and other crazy or not so crazy happenings in town and on farm. Everybody had a good time, and Thora watched with secret appreciation how the green team grew to accept Hilde as a member and not as a stranger.