Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Unforgotten tree

The tree is dead.
But it was alive back then.


Thursday, March 21, 2024

Monday, March 18, 2024

Beers & Books XXXLXV – The Road to Brightcity

A road literarily bright to read ...

Máirtín ò Cadhain (1906 – 18 October 1970)

Who would have thought? What started on 9 September 2020, "inspired" by an innocent beer being called  – how insane! – "Lancaster Bomber", has become a series of 365 posts.

By the way: The brewery are still offering six different beers in a box, twice a year. No longer 'Lancaster Bomber', though. Interesting. ;-)

Saturday, March 16, 2024

El joc de pòquer

Cassius Marcellus Coolidge
, 1894, Poker Game

Imagine folks: In 121 years, someone with too much money offers 658,000 dollars for a picture of our little poker round.
B: You don't say.
C: So there won't anyone be hungry in 2015?
A: Yes, but the person in question won't be interested in that.
D: 658,000 dollars for a picture of dogs playing poker?! I don't believe it!
A: That's as sure as Rostkam Gerstley & Co. will close up shop in 24 years.  
D: I bet a bottle of Old Saratoga Whisky against it.
A: Anyone else betting against it?
C: Me. Two bottles.
B: Me. Three bottles.
A: I want to see!

121 years later ...

Sunday, March 03, 2024

Saturday, March 02, 2024

In memoriam Claude

Today three years ago, my dear friend Claude died.
I am still sad, miss her, and at the same time I am grateful that once in 2008 she stumbled upon Omnium and thus allowed me to meet an extraordinary woman.

For many years Claude used to live with Innuit as a nurse.
Today I share with you one of the photos she took and one of her poems.

Thank you for everything, Claude. De tout coeur.

I hung two sealskins on my wall....
Some people say
'Oh! the poor dear things!'
with pity in their hearts,
while chewing bloody steak
and cuddling in fur coats.
And I think of
magnificently himself: a Man,
hunter by destiny
spearing the seals,
with no guilt in his soul,
no pity in his heart,
but beaming pride
that his day-work was done:
the best for his kin---
and that's all he could do...
And I think of
Kakee, his wife,
cleaning, stretching, smoothing, sewing the skins
with a skill
as old as the Woman called Eve,
and bringing me the gift
with beaming pride:
the best for a friend---
and that's all she could give...
And I wonder why
we worry about who eats whom
when Life is a cycle?
We all prey, and we grow
feeding on each other.
A seal
a breathing tomato
an egg that could be born
a drink of pure water
a flower for a vase
some grass to walk upon
the warmth of the sun, of a smile, of a body
a poem for a soul
and stars to fill a dream.
I hung two sealskins on my wall...
A Man must face himself
and accept it!
Claude Prévost Gamble
 (June 1970)

Friday, March 01, 2024

Friday is Skyday

Time for spring in the air.