Enga mellom fjella

A story, "The Great Dane"

Do we wonder where stories come from?

The Great Dane

Two brothers have returned to Trondheim by train. They are walking close (about 2 metres apart) and as they turn a corner and look up, there is the majestic cathedral of Nidaros. The younger boy's eyes open in wonderment.

"If God's house is so beautiful, why does everyone stand in line to go to Hell?"

Having just returned from there, the older boy pauses, then responds,

"Because it's warm and cozy and there aren't any Swedes."

The little boy ponders this answer, having heard a few of his dad's Sven and Ole jokes before. Puzzled he asks,

"So is that better for us Norwegians or those Swedes?"

Remembering the first time he heard the joke while visiting Tivoli and looking up at the spires of Nidaros the older brother reverently replies,

"I dunno. It was told to me by God, the Great Dane herself."

Nidaros in Trondheim:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nidaros_Cathedral

Hell, just east of Trondheim, is a train station stop on the way north to Northern Norway or east to Sweden.

Tivoli is in Copenhagen.

Stories, even humble ones, come from within us! Like the little one above I wrote today in my journal (page 1,491). [164.476]

NEWS:

I believe U.S. elections are always tinted by racism and other prejudices. This recent article would agree:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ucas/20080120/cm_ucas/racialstereotypesaredeeplyembedded...

ME:

Nada sent me a card that was returned to her. This is very bad news. If the post office is returning my mail, I'm screwed. I didn't pay for a post office box to have them toss my mail. Oddly, I get previous box holder's mail and forwarded mail from other people. My mail? Hmmmm.

I purposely have a box for my writing submissions; I do not use my home address.

It was a bitter cold walk to Z's today. But I'm sitting in the window with the sun shining on me.

Kansas: 26 degrees and a bitter wind chill.

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