Balcony views with red moon

Whilst this afternoon sitting with Antonio Molina Muñoz, 
I enjoyed this view.

Five and a half hours later
I took a shot of today's lunar eclipse...

Thirty-one minutes later, Ms Luna
had reappeared from the Earth's shadow.

Balcony view

This afternoon, whilst sitting with Mercé Rodoreda
and a cup of coffee on the balcony,
when looking up, once again I felt privileged.

Friday is Skyday

Southwest, 15:49

West, 15:49

East, 18:44

Laughing Lhursday*

Quètxup d'espécies
un dia després
del 276è aniversar
de Goethe.
*
Spiced ketchup
one day after
the 276th anniversary
of Goethe.

* [For first time visitors]: 
Typo in the title? Nah. It's just that 
I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

On the road

10:43

20:29

Beers & Books (425) – Victor Català: Solitud

I consider myself lucky.
Victor Català's ‘Solitud’, published in German in 2007, 
has ‘found its way’ into my library –
antiquarian, at a good price and remarkably well preserved. 
What a book!!

Victor Català (11 September 1869 – 27 January 1966)

August ending

Great effort, even greater delight for the palate ...

Friday is Skyday

Foraging ...

Summer stories by Carme: Cave paintings at El Cogul

I look at what I have drawn. I like it. 
One day people will say: contemporary painting.
But much rather would I paint eight or ten billion of us,
along with flying lightning bolts
that bring death to tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands; possibly all of us.
Plus famines, rapes, misery and violence.

And there are many other things I would like to draw – 
as a warning to those who will live after me.
But how do you paint stupidity, envy, greed and similar abstract concepts?
Ah, my contemporaries wouldn't understand it anyway.
And so I prefer to indulge in the joys of love... 
well aware that it will end badly if we continue to reproduce so unrestrained.

Beers & Books (424) – Mercè Rodoreda

Aloma (1938), La Placa del Diamant (1962), La meva Cristina i altres contes (1967)
Mirall trencat (1974), Jardí vora el mar (1967), Quanta, quanta, guerra (1980)

 

Mercè Rodoreda (10 October 1908 – 13 April 1983)

Beers & Books (423) – Mercè Rodoreda: Short stories

La meva Cristina i altres contes
*
My Christina & Other Stories 

 

Mercè Rodoreda (10 October 1908 – 13 April 1983)

Laughing Lhursday*

Fortune favours fools,
or as a German saying goes,
"Die dümmsten Bauern
ernten die größten Kartoffeln."
/
"The dumbest farmers
harvest the biggest potatoes".

Once again I feel relieved. 

* [For first time visitors]: Typo in the title? Nah. It's just that
I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

 

One stem, four colours

...

Coffee time with Pavlova & Mr B

Pawlowa
or how to smuggle a donkey halfway around the world
*
Certainly neither the original title (‘The White Umbrella’)
nor the writer (Brian Sewell) would have piqued my interest.
Being sometimes a donkey myself, though,
I could not resist the German title. ;-)
For an enjoyable read ...

Mr B, a fifty-year-old Briton, is travelling with a television crew in Peshawar, Pakistan, to make a film about the country's history. When he sees a heavily laden donkey foal covered in wounds by the side of the road during a car journey, he decides not to take the flight back to London scheduled for the following day. Instead, he wants to walk to London with the young donkey mare, whom he names after the Russian ballet dancer Pavlova because of her long legs. With only the bare essentials, including a white umbrella from the London umbrella shop James Smith & Sons, the two set off.
Translated from the German Wikipedia entry.

He says it for me

Escric per viure.
O bé al revés, tal volta:
visc per escriure. 

 Miquel Martí i Pol

I write for living.
Or vice versa, this time:
I live for writing. 

Friday is Skyday

Tonight, 30 or 40 swallows were hunting for their dinner.
But no matter how hard I tried,
I could never get more than four in one photo.

They are so incredibly fast.

 

Laughing Lhursday*

Living room idyll
designed by granddaughter

* [For first time visitors]:

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

 

Pretty cool it was

Eilean Donan Castle ...
around half past four in the morning,
when the pub had closed its doors.
*
Memories of morning freshness 
on a very hot day 27 years later. ;-)

The scum of America

"Listen," I say. "Isn't that great? The future ex-president of the United States is ordering National Guard units to Washington because he wants to 'take back his beautiful capital city'."  
No reaction.
"He wants to reduce the allegedly enormous crime rate and drive all the homeless people out of his city."
For a while, it seemed as if Tetrapilotamos, who is currently very busy proofreading his 1,669-page masterpiece ‘Pre-Assyrian Philately in a Nutshell,’ wasn't listening to me at all.
But then I hear him mutter: "Fact is, the illiteracy rate in Washington, D.C. is higher than in Cuba. Same goes for the crime rate.
The real scum of America these days is to be found in the White House, though, ... to tell the truth.”

Thistle feast

Most two-legged neighbours don't like thistles in their gardens, unaware that they are in the minority ...

... as the buzzing and humming inhabitants of Seanhenge prove.

They love thistles, especially these globe thistles (Echinops).

Coffee time with Lluís Llach

Les dones de la Principal
*
[There does obviously exist no English version]

Lluís Llach *7 May 1948

Seanhenge these days

 

Just a glimpse.

Balcony djungle.

Apples and prune plums.

Prune plums.

Apples.

Plums
[as an aside: super delicious]

Many people would not be able to imagine
what grows in and beneath this apparent chaos.

Potatoes, for example.

Friday is Skyday

Baboons ... observing Seanhenge ...

Laughing Lhursday*

As in any well-organised household, everything preserved at Seanhenge is labelled and dated.
So I was all the more surprised when I recently opened a tin of homemade tomato puree to prepare a tomato sauce “à la Sean”:

Instead of the usual date, I read: 
“The day before Goethe's 275th birthday”.
Sometimes I even make myself smile.

P.S.: Can any of my kind visitors 
tell me on which day I was in such a playful mood?

* [For first time visitors]:

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

Little dead swallow

Granddaughter sitting in the courtyard, observing three swallow nests and looking around. Suddenly a small cry. ‘Grandpa, oh no! A little bird.’ – On my way to the garage, I return and glance into the drain: ‘Ah, no, it's but a leaf.’

To cut a long story short:
Granddaughter's eagle eyes were right.
So I advised her to find a leaf.

We place the little swallow on it.
When I return from shopping, I hear
the little creature has been given a solemn burial.

On the road

Homeward ...

Just three thoughts

It is interesting to see how a psychopath can dominate the news.

It is interesting to see how journalists allow themselves to be dominated by a psychopath.

The smarter one gives in. ... That is why the stupid rule the world.

Coffeetime "À rebours". ;-)

A rebours.

 Joris-Karl Huysmans (5 February 1848 – 12 May 1907)

Saturday Night Music – Lluís Llach: L'Estaca

 

Lluís Llach *7 May 1948

Lyrics: Original and English translation

Friday is Skyday

On leaving the village.

Blimey! Fourty years!

Phew. Fourty years ago, the last Sunday in July was the 30th. One week after this agnostic had "made" Station Island, fulfilling a promise to myself, I climbed Croagh Patrick on my bare feet. 
At the time I am writing this, I was trying to get some sleep on the carpark at the foot of Croagh Patrick when I got awaken by both monotone and hysteric a voice, again and again shouting "Get out of it! Get out of it!"
Carefully I opened the car door, got out and – became witness of an exorcism.

Later I asked myself: Why would people do this?

He, f.e., kept a promise
he had given to himself.

Saturday night poetry: Joan Maragall

For my Català-speaking friends and visitors.
To spare you lengthy passages in German, I have listed below when poems by Maragall can be heard, recited in Catalan by Jaume Villalba, in German by Àxel Sanjosé.
• 05:16 – 08:12
• 24:27 – 27:20
• 34:10 – 35:38
• 41:45 – 43:39
• 50:58 – 54:41
• 58:39 – 1:02:04
• 1:12:52 – 1:15:52 

May you enjoy. 

 

Joan Maragall (10 October 1860 – 20 December 1911)

Good advice!

 "At 70 years old if I could give my younger self one piece of advice, it would be to use the words 'Fuck off' much more frequently".
Helen Mirren * 26 July 1945

Happy birthday, ma'am!

Laughing Lhursday*: Irish Metamorphosis

Early this morning spake Tetrapilotomos:
'Until Wednesday then.'
'Oh, trip to Tibet?
'No, march to Mayo.'
'Ah, next Sunday celebrating once again that St. Patrick worked wonder by climbing Croagh Patrick on your bare feet?'
'What wonder?'
'Expelling all snakes from Hiberna.'
'It was no wonder, at all.'
?
'All Old Paddy did was quasi expemplifying a metamorphosis.'
?
'Sean, did you ever notice that since there are no serpents the esmerald island is swarming with priests?'
And with the corners of his mouth twitching, off he went.

* [For first time visitors]:

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

Authorised genocide

Jews do not commit genocide.
A matter of principle.
In this they are similar to Germans,
Russians, US-Americans and other peace-loving folks.
Just a pious people.
* * *
Ha! No mention of 7 October?!
That of course authorises genocide.

Carme's summer stories. July: Mountain refuge

While I was busy proofreading the 1669 pages of my opus magnum ‘Pre-Assyrian Philately in a Nutshell’, a gasp made me look up. My friend Sean was standing in front of me, as white as a sheet, staring at me with terror-filled eyes.
‘I need your help,’ he groaned. And he told me that he had been looking round an antiques dealer when a man in a white hat entered the shop. "The dealer seemed to know him, greeted him and asked what Mr. mayor was doing here. The man answered that he was attending to his secret business, turned round, our eyes met and suddenly daggers flashed in his eyes. The next moment, he pulled his hat down low over his face and disappeared."

photo: sa lluna

When I gave him an irritated look, Sean burst out: "Don't you understand, Tetrapilotomos? I have met Death in the guise of the mayor! But I know a refuge at L'Estany de l'Illa in Andorra. He certainly won't find me there. Please help me."
So I sacrificed precious time, and 15 minutes later Sean was able to be transported to his desired destination in a wormhole.

photo: Xavier Puyol

My friend's fear gave me no peace. So I decided to get some fresh air. Not far from the antiques dealer, I spotted the man in the white hat and confronted him:
"You scared my friend to death. Why?"

"I didn't want to scare him", he said. "I was just surprised to see him here because we have an appointment tonight at L'Estany de l'Illa."

Mainau Declaration(s)

"An enormous responsibility lies in the hands of political leaders today. [...] A mentally ill or power-obsessed dictator could then [...] doom the civilised world, but with it also his own country, to radiation death. [...] Such a possibility must never occur, and hence the need for truly international control over the development of nuclear weapons, or better: peaceful coexistence of all peoples. [...] Today, war is no longer 'the continuation of politics by other means'. In a bomb war there are no longer victors and vanquished."
Otto Hahn, 13 February 1955

Five months later, 15 July 1955, the Nobel Prize Laureate initiated the Mainau Declaration at the Lindau Nobel Laureate Meeting. Among the 52 signatories worldwide were the physicists Werner Heisenberg and Max Born, as well as 15 other German and international Nobel laureates.

Two further declarations followed in 2015 (on climate change) and 2024 (on nuclear weapons).
Mainau Declarations

Coffeetime with Lemprière's Dictionary

Lemprière's Dictionary

Saturday Night Music – Anna Lapwood

Anna Lapwood *28 July 1995

Royal Albert Hall Organ 

Friday is Skyday

Soon I shall be dead.
Even without warmongers.
She takes all easy.

***
Morirem tots
no cal tinguin pressa
a eliminar-nos.
(Carme)

***
Si no és avui
serà qualsevol dia.
Llarga l'espera.
(Paula)

***
És al capvespre
que esperar ja no et cansa.
Has posat anys.
(Helena)

 

 

 

 

 

70 Years Russell-Einstein-Manifesto

Bertrand Russel on 9 July 1955:

I am bringing the warning pronounced by the signatories to the notice of all the powerful Governments of the world in the earnest hope that they may agree to allow their citizens to survive. 

Russell-Einstein-Manifesto

Bertrand Russell (18 May 1872 – 2 February 1970) 

Albert Einstein ( 14 March 1879 – 18 April 1955)

Feast for friends

Plenty to nibble on for the hoverflies in Seanhenge.