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.
Yesterday we were in Copenhagen for an ordination. A young man we know and cherish was made a priest. It was one of the best days in my life, and I'm still not quite touching the ground when walking.
While I have almost no photos from yesterday - at the church, I was too busy being there, and later I soaked my camera, it will survive, but all photos were fuzzy - I suceeded in snapping some funny posters at the place where the reception aftewards was being held.
EC gave us these words for Wednesday - that was yesterday. I was busy, but now I felt inspired.
Meet Glimpses Apples Taste Memory Garden And/or Letters Year Marvellous Ways Mother Shadow
These words turned into a small bit of a new Susan story. On the timeline we're some days after the story about a mouse. I almost succeeded in using the words in the order they were given 😞
"I would like to meet, as in really meet a fairy or an elf," Susan said. "I sometimes see glimpses of them while looking through the hole in that stone, They dance in the meadows among the trees, soaring over apples and stones as lightly as fluffy dandelion seeds." "Some say you can entice them with poppy seeds, as they like the taste," Heidi said. "Personally I think this is hogwash. I think they come and go as pleases them. I have a vague memory of us visiting aunt Jemima in her old house. The fairies were dancing in the garden there. It was marvellous. Later that year she moved away from that house. I don't remember much about it." "Oh, I wish we could go visit that garden!" Susan enthused. "Can't you ask your mother where it was, like?" "Neither she nor Aunt Jemima will tell. She says there's a shadow hanging over that house - that's why aunt Jemima moved in the first place. But maybe, I got an idea," Heidi's face lit up. "I think I have some old letters from Aunt Jemima. Maybe her address is on one of them!" "Where there's a will, there's a way," Susan said. "Find those letters, better hurry up!"
Dear everybody! I'm so sorry for posting a half-written post yesterday. I had forgotten we were celebrating a July-children's birthday and coming home and done with writing party yesterday. I must have pressed Publish instead of Schedule. Now at least here are the Words. This month it's Elephant's Child supplying us with the words on her blog.
Meet Glimpses Apples Taste Memory Garden And/or Letters Year Marvellous Ways Mother Shadow
- - - - -
August 3 question - When you set out to write a story, do you try to be more original or do you try to give readers what they want?
My answer: Neither. I tell the story, I want to tell. I sit myself down and write the story down - often after composing it in my head while walking, biking or taking a bath. Then I wait for some time,and read it through to see if I still like to read the story. If yes, I go on correcting, expanding and so on this story. And when I like to read it, all of it, I consider it finished. I might never publish anything at all this way, but then I hope you, my readers here in the interwebs, and whom else in real life reading my story has had just half as much fun reading my story as I have had telling and writing it. This suddenly does not sound like it belongs in a The Insecure Writer's Support Group post, but I promise you that I am still insecure while writing. Trying to find that one word catching the atmosphere in just the right way, trying to give that timbre, recreate this peculiarity and soon.
Poetry Monday - that's today! Diane - who has taken over the hosting of this challenge - and Mimi of
Messymimi's Meanderings - who supplies us with many of the topics - are also writing wonderful, funny,
thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and
read them! Karen of
Baking in a Tornado
has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month! SpikesBestMate
often publishes a nice verse in the comments. Jenny at
Procrastinating Donkey
who has been a faithful participant, is slowly returning to blogging
after her husband's passing from
this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and
lots of
prayers her way, now that her mum's health is in need of a prayer too.
But still we dare hope that she will join Poetry Monday again.
But today's theme: Girlfriends? ... No, not going to happen. I don't know why, but all the caboodle with Best Friends Forever and so on scared me at school. Of course I had friends, not many, but I had them, girl friends and boy friends. But being boys or girls was not what mattered, if you understand ... Then again I'm not going to opt out of Poetry Monday just because the theme does not speak to me. Let's talk a girl's best friend instead. No, not diamonds, dogs or boys. Horses top the list!
En vej går ind i himlen (Min lille hest) A road leads into haven (My little Horse) Tekst/Lyrics: Halfdan Rasmussen, Melodi/Music: Hanne Passer, 1984
Bad translation: MotherOwl, 2018-2022
En vej går ind i himlen hvor jeg bor A road leads into heaven where I dwell imellem hvide sky'r og grønne marker. Meandering through clouds and grassy meadows Ved vejen står en lille hest og sparker A little horse is waiting in the shadows. og spiser græs og vokser og blir' stor. He eats his grass and everything is well.
Når dagen gryr' og vækker blomst og bi, When day is dawning, waking up the bees, og lyset planter trær' og rosenranker, The sunlight planting trees and golden cornstalks. da står min lille hest med våde flanker, The little horse, with dewy hoofs and fetlocks og vrinsker en godmorgenmelodi. Is neighing his good morning to the breeze
Når middagsstunden slår sin vifte ud, When midday's sun is burning hot and clear og solen brænder havren tung og gylden, And sunshine makes the oats all ripe and golden, da går min lille hest i læ bag hylden My little horse is hiding in the rowan og kysser den og mener den er gud. He kisses it and thinks it is a dear.
Ved aften blir' den hentet af en dreng, When evening comes, a boy comes for the horse som klapper den på mulen mens han snakker. He strokes its muzzle gently as they're talking. Så går de sammen mellem lave bakker, Then through the rolling meadows they go walking, hvor åen nynner som en gylden streng. Along the streamlet's humming silver course.
Men kommer natten ridende fra vest But when the night comes riding from the West med dug på koderne og sølvblå tømme, With dewy mane and starlit, skyblue stirrups da går min lille hest herud i drømme, My little horse comes riding in the moonlight og derfor elsker jeg min lille hest. And that is why I love my horse the best.
Listen here in Danish - this is the one most like what I remember. The 2 first verses are best:
- - - - - Next Monday: Sneak Some Zucchini Onto Your Neighbour's Porch Night
A bit more than a mont ago I wrote and published this post. Nothing has changed. If anything more comments are marked as spam.
There's lots of comments on my blog still marked as spam.At least one comment a day, but often all of them! But I do not get any spam-comments, or hardly ever. This is to say that you, all of you, regularly end up marked as spam.
I
do my best to set all comments free as fast as possible, but with time
differences and life happening, some comments are bound to stay in limbo
for hours!
I can only promise to do my best and hope that Blogger will soon get wiser!
And EVERY.SINGLE.TIME I notify Blogger via the in-blog feedback button.
This is deeply frustrating as I was told the spam filter would learn, but I'm still freeing all of you from spam limbo several times a week.
