Laughing Lhursday*

Would you kill
a spider near the ceiling?

I take a glass and a postcard
and open a window.. :)

* [For first time visitors]:

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

Moon behind Poplars

Add caption

Why should I?

 

 

Monochrome Monday

60.

Illuminated

One could also call it waste of energy
and light pollution.

On the Road

[. . .]
And I need the phone.
The phone?
Yes. To call you in the night.
Oh, mother, but you are in hospital.
Not at home?
No. In hospital. For a couple of days.
In H.?
No, in G.
Will sister Gabi come tomorrow morning?
. . . Oh, sure. I think she will soon come again.
That's good.[. . .]

Within two days getting totally confused, demented even?
How do they do it in hospitals? 


Update:
In early morning she died.
25.07.1924 - 21.10.2013
May she rest in peace.

Cherry leaves

. . . while Sunday leaves . . .

Over the Poplars

Looking east

while in the west

the sun is about dropping off the disc.

Voice in Background

Who's that?
A wanted villain?

On the Road

Cropping? Why should I?

Land's End

Blimey . . . πάντα ῥεῖ,. and time flies.

Autumnal Hedge

"Seanian Summer" :)

Monochrome Monday (47)

Young day.

Praised be her Madness :)

Four days before I became 25 in 1978, Jacques Brel died.

I was young, and sad. Not too sad, though. I was young.

Today I realise, I have – so far – been allowed to live eleven years and four days longer than this fascinating man.

And I wonder [attention: rhetorical question]: Is life fair?

Time to thank those who have been and still are kind to me, to those who love me and to her who only today said "I love you like mad".

If I were a magician everyone reading these lines – and everyone not reading them – would feel her / his heart filled with serenety and love.

With exception of those bastards I do wish an extraordinarily long life with but one tooth left – and 59 minutes toothache each hour – and slowly and painfully rotting testicles!

To mention but a few contemporaries: . . . Uff! So many?! Oh dear!!

Surely you will know some more.

May lots of empathy be upon you . . . and me. :)

I leave you with . . . Jacques Brel, although in this very concert he does not sing one single favourite chanson of mine.

One can't repeat it . . .

. . . often enough: 

The American who was the first to discover Columbus,made a fatal 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.

The Seventh

October 7th not only reminds me of today Vladimir Putin again has come one year closer to his biological end.


Surely His Magnificent Ruthlessness, the President of the so-called Russian Federation enjoys a most happy day with all his dear friends, and everyone will have done his best to make the flawless democrat happy.
I wonder which one was the most special present today.

 
Seven years ago, October 7th, 2006 some admirers intended to surprise (?) their beloved President with a very very special present - and assassinated Anna Politkovskaya.

Well, and here's a List of murdered Russian journalists.

Risotto Seanese

Voilà, the ingredients for Risotto Seanese.
Well, almost.

You do, of course, need Risotto Rice,
white wine, (sea-) salt, pepper and Parmeggiano.
Not in the picture: vegetable stock.
In lieu thereof the cod which went with today's risotto.

An Episode

For several days I am cudgeling my brains, but just can't remember whether I read or heard the following somewhere; neither if it it was in English or another language and I just translated the following. 
The person who coined this will forgive me. 
In case s/he is dead, her / his heirs might sue me.

It would be a nice story.

Anyway, here is the thought.

Life is the episode between not existing and not existing

Laughing Lhursday

Pink October

One row,
and the digging
will have found its end.

Life's Little Ironies*

Today, not for the first time, someone said to me:

I do admire you for what you are doing,
the more as you are but her son-in-law.


The 'but' let me smile.

She did probably take it for humility.


*With thanks to Thomas Hardy

Monochrome Monday (46)

Both they do help us –
one to live and one to die.
There are some mistakes.

Speedblogging

To speak with Father Jack:
I am so ssooo sssooorry.

So sorry that I posted ten times within a few hours.

How wonderful that anyone can ignore.

Drink! Feck! Arse! Girls!

The peace of the night.

Swarm Intelligence

Does anyone detect intelligence?

Friday is Skyday

Starling in fog.

How boring!

A day's harvest.

It's never too late

After almost fourty years
this crazy bitch of cactus
decided to bloom.

So often I heard
why don't you throw it away.
What wonderful reward.

.

Damson and no Selilah

Lots of damsons* this year.

Here but a few I picked yesterday

to cook them four hours

and in between bake a cake

and finally get six glasses of damson butter.

* Before anyone asks: What are damsons?

Plums they are both. Actually the plum-family is quite big. For example, the mirabelle is also a member. :)

As for the difference:

The damson is the more juicy sister of the plum. :)
Plums are almost round and bigger; and their flesh tends to be reddish;
damsons are oval, and their flesh is yellow. 

Windowverse III

But a minute later . . .

Lachrymose

When looking NORTHwards
these days I do often think
of Seamus Heaney.

Divided by Glass

Sleeper on the window

slowly waking up

knocking

taking off.

Bloody useless *

They delight my eyes:
amidst beans and tomatoes:
gracious Cosmeas.

You cannot eat them,
nor use them to kill others:
useless Cosmeas.

A Beauty

You might disagree.

Monochrome Monday (45)

Even in the dark
there is beauty to be found.
A matter of love.

My Sunny Mood Downstairs

The steps to cellar
sometimes do cause a surprise.
I make it happen.

Sun – day & flower

Sunflower – there's been
such a lot bullshit written.
Just nothing to add.

Oui oui

Ce monde est un grand Bedlam, où des fous enchaînent d'autres fous. / This world is one great bedlam where maniacs  enchain other maniacs. / Diese Welt ist ein einziges großes Tollhaus, wo Irre andere Irre in Ketten legen. /
[Voltaire]

Friday is Skyday

Fireface

I felt reminded of Robert Frost:'s "Fire and Ice" (1920)

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favour fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To know that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

The path to hell . . .

. . . is plastered with good intentions.

Or as a pious father, a real celebrity of celibacy once stated : "[...] is plastered with heretical questions."

"What an overrated idiot!"

. . . murmured Tetrapilotomos on reading the following

For life and death are one,
even as the river and the sea are one.

"Life is life, and death is death."
And on he went with proof-reading his 1669 pages short opus magnum "Pre-Assyrian Philately in a Nutshell".

On the Road (18)

Go.
Fear not.
Just do it.

 

On the Road (17)

Passing maizefield.

Laughing Lhursday

Molly Bloom's 110th 33rd

I'd not easily offer links thrice. However, exceptions exist to be made. And today there is a good reason to make one.

It's Mrs. Bloom's 143th birthday, thus she's now 105 years older than her husband uses to be since June 16th, 1904.

'Uses to be'? Well, in a most vivid dialogue I had the pleasure to witness some time ago, Mr. Bloom vehemently insisted on still being 38. Being asked to give evidence he said: 'cause June 16th 1904 I became immortal.

Thus, de facto the eternal Mrs. Bloom today is celebrating her 110th 33rd.

Happy birthday then, Lady Molly, and may I say: You're looking younger than ever. Younger than ever. :)


Here's to enjoyce, as thus spake Molly:

 

La vie en rose

La vie en rose? Shhh . . .
Peace Nobel Prize Winner wants
war war more . . . ter .... ror.

Friday is Skyday

Less than three hours sleep
caring 24/7,
no chance to escape.

So I drove quickly
– steeling time for morning walk –
to enjoy silence;

taking some photos,
– first river mist behind me –
then back I hastened.