Pft

I've just returned home and I'm too full to think - my digestive system seems to have claimed all the blood available so I've decided to have a bit of fun with an easy post. I snatched the idea from quilly. Nothing to do for me but click a few answers, so here's the result (and no surprise given the circumstances):-



You are late-sleepy relaxation, the half-awake moment when you realize it's morning, but you don't have to get up, because there's no place you have to be. You are that cozy spot under the covers where everything feels temporarily perfect, even if you know you'll eventually have to wiggle out and start the day. Maybe you're the artistic type, who doesn't function well on a normal schedule. Sleep's important to you, and you like the freedom of sleeping as late as you want (especially since that is closely related to the freedom to stay up as late as you want). You like to roll out of bed, put on some comfy clothes, and get a laid back start to the day. If not everything on your list gets accomplished, no worries. Your only priority is having no priorities – you just want to take things at a slow, mellow pace.

Where Now?

I drift in dark unrest and pain.
Where now? you ask, and ask again.

Ask the wild horses of the sea,
The scudding clouds' wild company,

As they are whipped when winds ride high,
Scouring the plains of earth and sky.

Not one of them could answer where,
Or guide me out of my despair.

But this I know beyond surmise -
I'll never more behold her eyes;

Yet earth contains no hiding-place
In which I could forget her face.


***

I didn't write this, of course. A great Slovenian poet did. But I find it appropriate to post a poem of his on the eve of the national cultural holiday. I doubt the bard would have wanted Slovenians to celebrate the anniversary of his death but that's exactly what we do. Are we nuts or what!

By the way, the poet's name is France Prešeren.

Mood change

Finally, the sun has shown up again. In spite of being busy I took a quick walk through the park during my break time. It felt almost like spring... the sunshine, interrupted briefly now and again by a passing cloud, the birds singing and dashing to and fro, the dogs sniffing here and there, for the most part ignoring their owners' calls, a snowdrop here and a crocus or three there emerging from the soaked soil... and yet, February has only begun and winter has not said its last word, I'm sure. But why not enjoy the early signs of spring if they are already here to savour.

The river

It's been raining for a a few days again and the Ljubljanica river has changed its nature. The usually lazy emerald green water has taken on the colour of white coffee and is running fast through the old town, making it difficult for the mallards to keep in place.

This is...

...and old photo, of course. I haven't been to the coast for ages (you can tell I miss the smell of the sea and some warm sunshine) and I'm not likely to go very soon. But right now there's just as much life in me than there is in that guy picced above. No wonder after a whole day of wrestling with other people's demands followed by hours of thinking intensively in a language other than my own. Pft, I'm knackered but the good news is my head has cleared - unlike the weather.

Rainy Saturday

What do you do on a rainy Saturday? Clean house, that's what (metaphorically rather than literally)!
I've had a headache for two days now -and that's a rare condition with me - and although it's easing off I can't think very clearly. Oh well, it will pass and so will this dreary weather, I hope.

Derring-do

"I'm not afraid of you!"
"You have no reason to be till I'm done with this delightfully smelling tuft of grass."
"You're afraid to come closer, eh? A dog that's afraid of a crow, ha! Caaaaww!"
"You can be damn well sure I'm not afraid of you. And don't you see I'm busy? Woof, I wish I knew who left this smell here. It's so... alluring!"
"Boring old dog is afraid of me! I'm coming closer, see! Hoppity hop! Now, what do you say?"
"I say, bugger off! Or else... Ooh, I wish I knew who she was! I wonder if she..."
"Or else, or else... You can't catch me, you grumpy old dog!"
"Grrrrr... I suppose you're right. But if I could fly..."
"But you can't. And so you don't know what I know. Pft!"
"And what would that be, you pestering bird?"
"I'm so not telling where that bitchy bitch lives. Good luck!"