In the garden by the pond we have a variant of a clematis with small yellow flowers in the summer. Now in the late summer sum they turn into small hairballs. Makes me think of Chewbacca the Wookie from Star Wars.
May the force be with you, ha de Gött!
Travelling just 30 kilometres east from my home is a large lake named Bullaresjön. To be precise it is two lakes North and South Bullaresjön. The north point of these narrow but long lakes, in total 28 kilometres, ends at the Norwegian border. As a child, up to seven years old, I spent my summers in a small cabin by the shore of the north lake. This weekend I went there to take some pictures. I shot this picture from the small beach I used to play at as a toddler.
Sometimes you have to walk down memory forest, ha de Gött!
Oat (Avena sativa) is a widely cultivated grain where the seeds are used for both human and livestock food. The Swedish name is “Havre”. The oat fields are now turning yellow as the plant matures in the late summer sun. In just a few weeks it is time for harvest. This annual plant grows best in the temperate zones.
I have a condition called “Celiac disease”, commonly referred to as “gluten intolerance”. I cannot eat anything made from grains like rye, wheat or barley with oat being the exception. Oat meal does not contain any of the gluten protein that triggers the disease. So you can understand that I like oat. NOTE! For it to be safe for a coeliac to eat any product based on oats it needs to be produced with special care and be marked gluten free. It’s NOT safe to eat regular oat products!!
Don’t worry there are some gluten free beer available, ha de Gött!
Song lyrics to the music of Queen’s “The great pretender”. Inspired by Hobbo and Out-of-the-cave blogs, click on the names to see their excellent blogs.
Oh yes, I'm the great procrastinator (ooh no-o) pretending that I get things done (ooh no-o) my need is such I postpone to much I'm slow start that no-one can help Oh yes, I'm the great procrastinator (ooh no-o) adrift with a list of to-do's (ooh no-o) I make the plan but to my real shame I just can't get things to move on Too real is the scene kicking cans down the road Too real is my tactics delaying stuff Oh, yes I'm the great procrastinator (ooh no-o) just keep's putting things on hold (ooh no-o) I seem to be stuck, sat on my butt stalling my actions like a fine statuette Pretending that I can get things done Too real is the scene kicking cans down the road Oh yes, I'm the great procrastinator (ooh no-o) just sitting around on my ass (ooh no-o) in my head you see a magical spree but I'm just wearing my sofa down procrastinating to see the truth Pretending I that can get things done
I hope I don’t offend any fans to the fantastic band Queen and the singer Freddie Mercury. As a band aid I also put up the official Freddie Mercury video from Youtube. The song is originally written by Buck Ram (1907 – 1991). Buck Ram was from Chicago, Illinois. Composer, band leader and also the Platters manager. Also the Platters recorded the Great Pretender. Ha de Gött!
A rainy day I will sort things postponed and neglected A rainy day I will get down to it long awaited A rainy day I will sort it all out structure and shape A rainy day I will let it all flow symphony of keys A rainy day I will bloody well will write that novel
But today sun is shining, ha de Gött!
A full year. 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days. 8760 hours. 525 600 minutes. 31 536 000 seconds. Since you left.
In the video my son Edvin, who passed away from us one year ago today, plays his own music. I recorded the video just an hour after he finished the composition. A few week later he was no longer with us. I post this to honor his memory. Hope you like it.
Your brain, can be fantastic but also, a pain in in the ass The darkness can fall, and hit you, hard You can decide, but it is sometimes hard The struggle goes on, the struggle goes on The struggle goes on, the struggle goes on Pray, it will be better soon. Hold tight God, will it be better soon. I must be My head, can be fantastic Every day, a pain in the ass The darkness will fall, and hit you hard Run for your life, run far The struggle goes on, the struggle goes on The struggle goes on, the struggle goes on The struggle goes on, the struggle goes on The struggle goes on, the struggle goes on
This song lyrics was written a year ago by my son, Edvin. Just a few weeks before he passed away. It’s a punk rock song where he also written music. It is only partially recorded as he wasn’t fully pleased with this song. Even so, I’ve decided to post it. This was his first attempt to write lyrics so he asked me what he should write about. I answered, try to explain how you see the world and I think this text bluntly expresses his struggle. He did record another song that you can find on Spotify (link). Ha de Gött!
To get to my boat I have to walk through a field with cows. Close to the water there is a few meter with a very narrow passage with rock on one side and a wetland on the other. As I came around a corner I found myself face to mule with the cows. First I wasn’t sure how the bull would react, you see him in the middle, but he’s a very kind fellow. They like to eat from the reed as it apparently has a sweet taste. Guess the cows has a sharp tongue and take no bullshit.
They let me take some nice photos and I could make my way trough the flock to the boat. I just told them “well now, this path isn’t wide enough for all of us”. Not only a blogger but also a cowboy, yiihaa, ha de gött!
Like a white beacon in all the green. The hedge bindweed (Calystegia sepium) got my imagination going with its many English names. But first the Swedish name, “Snårvinda”. Connects to its growth place in bushes where it twines around another plants. Reaches up to four meters. It can be found all over the world in tempered climate in several sub species.
The English names is like a smorgasbord. Rutland beauty, bugle vine, heavenly trumpets, bellbind, granny-pop-out-of-bed and, according to Wikipedia, many more. Please drop a comment if you know any more. Heavenly trumpets seems a fitting name with its innocent white and trumpet shape flowers.
Granny-pop-out-of-bed. In my head plays out the scene with granny jumping out of bed. Dressed in her long white night dress. Hair all white from age and fuzzy from sleep. She dances around like a teenager in the bedroom with the radio playing loud. The song is the Beatles “a hard days night”. Sweeps across the hall to that handsome widower’s room. He wakes up mumbling something about ghosts. He finds his glasses, and his teeth. Puts them in to give her a Liberace smile. They dance all night and just before the staff enters her room she slips back into bed. The staff helps her with the morning things. While wheeling her out to the common room for breakfast they ask if she had a good night. Sure did, she answers and give the widower across the hall a wink of the eye. Now then, ready for pills and bridge thrills before the heavenly trumpets sounds.
Angels sound your horns, Ha de Gött!
What if there were no name to places? All positioning was mathematically. Where do you live? Oh, I live at N58°, E11°.
Would all territorial wars end? Or would we just fight over squares.
What language would be? Or would we only communicate mathematically like computers. In ones and zeros, or hexadecimals.
How about our names? Just a series of numbers, date of birth and a serial number like our social security number. “Happy birthday dear 20210710-0001”.
If we only worked with numbers would all scores be settled?
Did you meet all your numbers? Yes, we had a large family dinner.
Marriage an addition, divorce a subtraction. Making children, multiplying. Would then giving birth be a division?
Genealogy just a matrix.
Sometimes my thoughts don’t add up, ha de Gött!
UlleHaddock 