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Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
"Love is like the tide, sometimes high enough to immerse us fully, sometimes so low we stand naked and alone..." Carolina Blue ![]() August tornado Swept away by hail, all gone, except the bitterness we refuse to release to God. Odd clouds respond with glee; lights dance to a deep voiced bass, pounding thunder makes hearts beat with the fear that what we know will end, in a gust of wind. Sirens scrape the nerves. On edge, the sultry air reminds us all was ocean once, before the land rose up to meet the lowering sky. © Kåre Enga [161.487.LOS.KS] 2004-08-23 Written in August in Kansas 5 years ago tomorrow! Published in The Lawrencian in an earlier form "August tornado" ![]() ME? Okay, so I fried cod in olive oil by dipping it in egg and olive-oily focaccia crumbs. Grating the crumbs was the fun part. The cod was on sale and I had one last egg and I save stale bread to make crumbs. It was very good. ![]() It was very hot Friday... 94 degrees. I stayed in my place in front of the fan. Today I bought an orange tomato, had my Minnesota-Orange notepad in my green shirt pocket, had my duck-hunter orange cap on. Got comments from more than a couple! Charles was cruel though. He wondered if me and Aki were cousins (he was dressed completely in prison-camp-orange) Manipulative me? My sister might go to the celebration of life for Colin Speta tomorrow. Depends on the car brakes. I mentioned she should take mom; mentioned to mom that she should go; mentioned to both that Ryan and his fiancé from North Carolina will be there (no one from our family will be able to make the wedding). I do what I can. ![]() I feel exhausted, but hope everyone is able to connect. If not... it is their loss and not my burden. I do what I can. I already talked to cousin Carol and her son Ryan today, Little Betty and Sandy, my sister and my mother twice... Writing I mentioned to zwisis that she has an opportunity to show us Ramazan (Ramadan) in Turkey through the senses: sight, sound, smell, touch and taste. Each holy season has certain customs and as an outsider from Zimbabwe she could bring us a unique perspective. Her blog entry: "Invalid Entry" ![]() Blogville As a premie my blogs can now have 1,450 entries? Does this mean I need to write more? 365 x 4 + leap day = 1461. So figure 4 years of daily entries... ![]() Montana: 84° at 3 p.m. in Missoula. 17,200 |