Saturday Night Music – Moon Song*

Asmik Grigorian * 12 May 1981

Rusalka

Antonin Dvořák (8 September 1848 – 1 May 1904)

* for Paula @ el racó de sa luna ;-)

Friday is Skyday

Same procedure as last week.

Laughing Lhursday*

Cat(s) as cat(s) can.

* [For first time visitors]:

Typo in the title?
Nah. It's just that I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

Beers & Books CCCXXXVI – Codename Adler

Code name Adler (Eagle)
Klaus Barbie and the Western secret services*

 
* Also highly recommended:
Hotel Terminus: The Life and Times of Klaus Barbie, which in 1988 won Marcel Ophuls the Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature

Enough

The older I get, the less time I have to be diplomatic, which is why I'm not ill-disposed to (at least largely) put an end to blogging at the end of this month.
Time to write! Without scissors in head.
To put it with Seamus Heaney:
Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests. ...

In praise of ...

Digging

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; as snug as a gun.

Under my window a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbed
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rotted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade,
Just like his old man.


My grandfather could cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, digging down and down
For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mold, the squelch and slap
Of soggy neat the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.

Seamus Heaney

Friday is Skyday

Rain barrel fillers approaching

Laughing Lhursday*

The last visitor

* [For first time visitors]:

Typo in the title?
Nah. It's just that I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

 

Beers & Books CCCXXXV – Road to Brightcity

...

Máirtaín O'Cadhain (1906 – 18 October 1970)

Reconnaissance flight

On its way to the trout farm ...

Beers & Books CCCXXXIV – The Swan

The Swan

Guðbergur Bergsson (16 October 1932 – 4 September 2023)

Yummy

Courgettes, mangold, peppers.
And as there are still lots of tomatoes,
today we produced another ten jars each
of spice ketchup and curry ketchup.
Yummy.

Three feasts

Feast of colours,
feast for the bee,
feast for my eyes.

Friday the 13th

Friday the 13th started well:
Which ones from my wishlist
might be waiting for me there
so nicely packaged.
Control yourself, Sean.
First of all,
inaugurate the fancy ceramic grater.
Off to the kitchen!

Today 531 years ago

 The American who was the first to discover Columbus made a nasty discovery.

Der Amerikaner, der den Kolumbus zuerst entdeckte,
machte eine böse Entdeckung. [G 183]

Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1742 - 1799)

Laughing Lhursday*

This is ...

... no fairy tale.

 

* [For first time visitors]:

Typo in the title?
Nah. It's just that I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

Cat and mouse

Not even in Seanhenge can be overridden
what seems to be natural law.
In this case, a suddenly approaching distraction ensured
that the little mouse escaped with its life.

"Tous les cris, c'est de la douleur"*

Jacques Brel (8 April 1929 – 9 Ocober 1978)

* All the crying is pain

Less and more

While getting almost 90 percent
less apples than in '22,
this was an extraordinary
good onions-peppers-and tomato-year.

 

We might even go nuts. ;-)

John Hume: It is time

“[...] The renewal of Ireland is scarcely thinkable outside the process of the development of a political and cultural Europe. [...] It (the EU; sj) is the greatest example of conflict resolution in the history of humanity. Nations who for centuries invaded each other, occupied each other’s territories, expelled each other’s peoples and massacred each other, came together freely to bury their old hatreds. [...] But the fact that these nations have preserved their identities is even more encouraging. It proves that institutions can be created to pursue common objectives without sacrificing Europe’s diversity of culture and traditions. [...] The more people are given responsibility for their future, the more they show their ability to take such responsibility. The more people believe that their political institutions belong to them, the more effective those institutions will be. [...] Working for a new Ireland in a new Europe [...] It is time to look honestly at the virtues and defects of our society and find new answers capable of preparing us for the challenges which lie ahead. It is time to paint a realistic portrait of society and to abandon the consolation of outmoded imaginary mental pictures. We need the courage to imagine new perspectives which will help us to formulate answers to the questions of social diversity, possible political institutions and the eventual resolution of our conflict. ”

John Hume in Everything is Political in a divided Society. Above excerpts were taken from “Arguing at the Crossroads – Essays on a changing Ireland”, 1997, pp 105/106.

John Hume (18 January 1937 – 3 August 2020)

Beers & Books CCCXXXIII – Cage Eleven

...

 

Gerry Adams *6 October 1948

Long Kesh

Happy 112th, Flannie!

When health is bad and your heart feels strange,
And your face is pale and wan,
When doctors say that you need a change,
A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.

 
Flann O'Brien * 5 October 1911*

* In case anyone should miss a date of death:
No, he did not die on 1 April 1966. Flann fooled you all, folks.

Instead of a rant

A few ...

more dahlias ...

to calm ...

my blood.

Colour mix

Blue, green, white, yellow.

Chimney

Chimney - well, and a bit of sky.

October

Not only the buzzard flies.
Time as well.
It's October again.