Twelve brides

Foreword: this is one of my first-ever attempts at writing rhytmic poetry. I just wanted to capture the feeling I had upon seeing another wonder of Nature. My words might not suit the entirety and majesty of the scene, but I do like this particular photo.

It was made on 20 April in our front garden. Also, I'm hurrying posting this little piece because I just feel depression raging all over me again. Take and read this 'poem' as if you were seeing the last rays of an amber Sun before night clashes in. See ya.

The Sun glimpsed once and saw them all,
Satin of pink and white,
Twelve brides waiting in soft costumes,
Wildly bemused delight.

Scooting along the grooms arrived,
Hurried and kissed their brides,
Buzzing unbounded happy tunes,
Symphony of sweet life.

Music for the romantic

Nina Simone with 'I want some sugar in my bowl' - fits the story below.

Writing exercise

Christine Eldin had a writing exercise on her blog. The task was to supply another 300 words to the story she started. Below is the part she wrote and my version's below the ****-s.

This is sort of a romance, and I had very hard times finding out anything about these people. I don't think my version came out bright or truly original, but this is what I got when I got my brain working on it.

Feel free to comment on my writing and don't forget to visit the original version by Chris.

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Neal was the gem in my collection. An art major from an upper-class family, he had hazel eyes with long-eyelashes. And oh so smooth, gentle hands. Outcast by meaty frat-boys, we often spent time together walking through the woods.

"Let's kiss," he'd say. And we'd lean in and put our mouths together and I was always surprised when he'd use his tongue. I knew he wasn't gay, but it always surprised me just the same. He'd pull away then talk about his classes or an upcoming vacation, or how he'd like to sketch the bird resting on a branch overhead.

I was never embarrassed when he'd put his hands in his pants and adjust an errant erection. They were never related to our kisses, and he always excused himself. And, you know, I was never curious enough to peek. To think we were twenty but quite comfortable acting like twelve-year-olds.

I was part of Neal's collection, but he wasn't in love with me. Of that I was quite sure.

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We’re friends he’d say. Yet, my roommate made faces when she heard Neal asked me to accompany him on bird-watching. Lucy insisted Neal was a nerd. Or gay. Or a gay nerd. I did not care much about birds; and clutching to binoculars with freezing hands was not my type of pleasure either. Instead, it was the gem I followed. Or was it my heart?

We set ourselves in a log cabin for the night. Neal explained about the birds we were about to explore early in the morning. His deep, warm voice circled around and lulled me to sleep. I had the strangest dream this night. I saw Neal squatting in a nest, his head slightly turned down; his arms hanging loosely. He looked at me and was so quiet, peaceful and loveable I wished I could go up and spread my love around his body; because well, he had feathers all around him and he was sitting in a nest. And he was up about two meters high in an oak.

The morning came with a mist that wove its silky threads among the trees. The grass bore drips of silver under my feet as I stepped out to see where Neal was. I thought I slept too much and he was out already. He really was. About two meters high, in a bird’s costume. His facial expression was bemused and calm.

I returned to grab my belongings. The highway was about half an hour’s walk.

I never saw him again, nor did I speak to him. Sometimes I wish I did. I can still recall the enchantment over his almond eyes. Sometimes I’d walk past a pet shop and see caged birds in fancy plumages. They remind me of the taste of Neal’s kisses.

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UPDATED - Need some exercise?

If creative writing is among your hobbies, and/or you like reading love stories, do not hesitate: give your hand and brain a try at Christine Eldin's 35th Writing exercise. I wrote my entry and will be publishing it over here early next week.

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In the meantime, do some aerobic gladiator exercise with me.

Go out and so some gardening. Walking does count, too.

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And if you still have some brain capacity left, try your mathematics and belief in the supernatural. The link I'm giving will take you to a Hungarian site, but do not worry about language. Here's what you have to do:

Think about a number between 99 and 10. Got that? Take the individual numbers and add them up. Extract the sum from the original number. Got this? Check (mentally) the symbol beside this number. Click on the blue sphere. You can go on repeating with the process.

It took me some minutes to find out the truth. And you? I'm awaiting your comments! You may or may not indicate your average grade you had in schools in Maths. (Mine was 4, with occasional 3s and 5s), which equals B in the American system.)

Here's the LINK.

*************** real update - SPOILER ALERT ********** Spoilers are written in write. Highlighting areas where there seems to be nothing reveals the hidden text.

Step 1. I'm all into the supernatural, but this is pure math.

Stept 2. Think about two digit numbers as the sum of two separate numbers. One is taken ten times, the other is one time. Let's say the number is 38. Here, you have ten times the 3, plus one time the 8.

Step 3. If you extract (one time 3 plus one time 8) from (ten times 3 plus one time 8) you got NINE times 3.

This happens all the time.

Step 4. Now go check the symbols. They are randomized, but it's a false random. Numbers of the multiplier list of 9 always have the same symbol.

Step 5. For a freaky touch, the symbol belonging to 9,18,27, etc. are displayed elsewhere, too :)

Step 6. Now tell me which 'Step' introduced your hand to your forehead?

For a Free Tibet

This post is to raise awareness about the events than are going on (present tense of verb used on purpose) in Tibet.

I'm joining the voice that reached Bart and Miladysa and I assume, many others.

This is my simple contribution - a YouTube video about the Hungarian demonstration that took place on Budapest on March 20. I did not take part with my body -

The video shows how the demonstration goes from streets to streets to reach a large square where the speaker addresses the crowd in Hungarian. It ends with the words that 'I wish that there should be peace all over the world and we can all do a prayer to that end. Let there be peace everywhere in the world.' The last part is a prayer sung/told in Tibetian.

Amen to those.

Let Ello speak - UPDATED

Name a profession that the mere mentioning of the name of the profession itself makes you sweat, shiver and fear.

Got that? The solution below is written in white.

DENTIST.

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If you ever had a fear of a dentist, this absolutely brilliant description will help you forever to not overcome your rational emotions.

Great job, Ello.

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This Saturday, weather permitting, we're going to the fair of useless and beautiful animals. Photos will be coming soon !

Have a great weekend!

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With a quick manoeuvre of the wrong buttons I deleted all the photos I made today. No photos.

I have found them in the computer!! whohooo!

Springtime blues

with flowers prying through last year's fallen memories
it's hard to be blue
with the heart-throbs of Mother Earth pulsating around
in the tiniest of green blades and new leaves
it's hard to be blue
with all the love I have been given from the everpresent Being
and with all the love I have for you and myself
and with all the love that is life
it's hard to be blue -
but I manage it.

I weep for I know of no higher joy than being,

and I know of no higher fear than being...

Chicken

Have you heard about the game of 'chicken': it involves two irresponsible and possibly drunken youngsters and most importantly, two cars.

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Yesterday I was playing something similar with my dentist. I planned to visit him but I just stayed home and enjoyed being alone.

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Enjoy the photos my son made of our chicken.

Things we did during easter PART TWO

In Hungary, male visitors at Easter are given decorated eggs and/or money/chocolate. As I promised, here's the description of Easter eggs - the way we do them:

You need:
fresh, intact eggs
the outer tough and dark leaves of 5-6 onions (may use the onions to make a French onion soup)
a medium sized pot
water
fresh leaves of plants gathered from the garden/forest/roadside - (smaller and more delicate leaves are better)
an old pantyhose, cut into 10*10 cm pieces
rubber bands
a small cup of water
a clean table
grease
serviettes
some detergent and a sponge to clean up the grease
fresh kitchen towels

Method of preparation as displayed by DH and my 8 yo daughter:
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Step 1 (not pictured)
Put the onion leaves into the put with a sufficient amount of water and bring it to the boil.
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Step 2.
Make fresh leaves and cup of water available.
Select a leaf and rinse it in the cup of water.
Hold an egg and place a leaf on the surface.
Add as many leaves as you wish, carefully holding the egg so as not to break it and not to let the leaves fall. Any 8-yo can do that trick.

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Step 3.

Have a small piece of pantyhose ready.

Pull it tight with two hands. With your third hand, place the egg into the sack you've just created.

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Step 4.

This is the most difficult part. Using a rubber band, wrap the pantyhose around the egg to make a package. Do not break the egg, nor let the leaves slip off.


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Step 5.

Place the egg with the pantyhose on into the boiling water, which has been already given a nice color. Did I just say nice? You decide.

Let is boil for like 5 minutes.



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Step 6.

Remove eggs from water. Remove pantyhose and rubber band from eggs. You are not supposed to break the shell. Let the eggs dry until all dampness disappears.

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Step 7. Optional.

For a final touch, you may want to add some shine to the eggs. Dip your fingers into some grease and put a tiny(!) amount of it on the surface. Rub it gently over the shell with a help of a serviette.

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Step 8.

Enjoy the endproduct, and gather whoa-s from visitors.