Last week I saw the moon hung low in the sky, full fat round like a cheese. We are smár smá-menn - nothing to this moon.

It is strange to think of so many people now upon the world, creeping, spreading growing - looking to go upwards, as if there is space upon the air.
Buildings of such bigness, making even the trees look small. I cannot see the tree for the wood, brick and concretes. And steel! Where did it come from? Such pulling from the earth I have not seen when I was first around.

I think a pattern-weld steel building would be stórmannligr! - but it is just "plonk" and there it sits.

Somewhere the buildings of magnificence were loss to building - no carvings no lintels, no spirit. Then they made paints so people know what house is own. My house it is the white creams, my neighbour is yellows, I have seen a house pink bright with green windows, nobody mistake that house for another!

Then is little numbers on small houses of their own outside the big houses, and someone puts many pieces of paper in them, and Kirstin puts most the papers straight into a bag for outside, and someone else takes the bags away. I see not point in that.

Too many of things, manna-vist, waste. Ó-ráðinn mér, for I cannot see how work in future, when troubles already now.

And strength of self mind - where has gone that? But enough today. Skrïuæ another time, I am hungry.

Stomach stórum skorta snack,
I go now but I be back.

~B.

16/9/2002

(transcribed from a forum where a haiku-esque war was going on...)

Ho Ja-kvin!

Á Hvernig "haiku"
Ï hræða mir? Hlœgi-ligr,
um alla hluti!

~ B.


The accuracy of my translation is not to be guaranteed, but I think Beorn said:

In what way by haiku
[do] You frighten me? Laughable,
in all respects!

~ K.

16th day of 8th month two-o-o-two, before dinner.

It is unreasonable.
She is cooking roast lamb and parsnips tonight, and little minted peas. But before I may eat, she tells me I should practise my computere type first.
I have one half hour before the meal is ready.
It is wrong to make a man hit silly little keys before letting him eat.

I saw the Lord of the Rings first movie again. It is a good story.
It is different, yet reminds me of stories long ago. A gull-hringr is often in these.
Sometimes I think the Bal-rog has a mother, but I know that Beowulf did not die of arrows. This is not his story.

There are a lot of swords in this movie. I like that.
I don't know how they make that blue one. I guess they film it clever.
Kirstin told me that many people died when they try to film the Bal-rog.
She thinks me myrk-fælinn! I am around here long enough to know no such illr-hveðrungr exists. A very long time ago, maybe different, I tell her. But no small child me.
Then she tell me no, people make the Bal-rog in a computere.

I think a very big computere would be needed to make a Bal-rog, but it seem more likely than people filming such a thing for real. People don't like becoming burnt - I know this, because there is special cream with little sunscreens in it that people like to wear, when it is hot.

She tells me I can stop now. Sometimes I see a little round face, rolling eyes on the internets. I know how he feel.
She has made little pancakes to go with the meat (I don't know why, she is strange like that).
Rolling eyes, now I go.

6th day of 8th month two one one two.

I am writing a blog, she tells me.
It has something to do with webs.
And logs.
Ænglish is strange.

Today I took a ride on a bus.
It was almost empty.
I think if we take the top off, and put on a sail, it would be a long-bus, ha.
I will draw a picture of this.

~B.

29th day of 7th month Two thousand two also.

The computere has frozen twice. It does not feel cold, but it does not move, like ice.
Even though ice moves a little, in seas. But if I put the computere in the seas, it would still not be happy.
I think it does not like me.
I do not like it also.

I like Mead.
Mead is very good, and I went to a party and drank some mead there.
Kirstin got a bottle of mead that I have not seen before. It had berries in it.
I think it will soon not be there to be seen.

I do not like dancing to music from nineteen and eighty.
A-ha is her especial favouriteness. I forget what name is - Mortagne? He sings like in a sinking boat in cold water, always higher and higher. She was telling me, they have a new compacte disk about, she is very excited. Kirstin is vit-lítill in matters of the music, but there it is.

Mead is good. So are little pink sausages on tiny sticks, with tomato sauce.
But this mirrorball is a strange invention.
What were they thinking?


~B.


28th day of 6th month Two thousand two.

I do not like this computere, it breaks and does the blue thing.

Today we went on a boat. It is not like the ships I remember, but it has sails - four sails~!
That is a lot of sails for just one boat.
I miss my boat - Óðinn Auga - the Eye of Odin, it was called. That was a fine boat.
We went sailing under a bridge. It still amaze me that people can build bridges very big today. So much steel - how many weapons that could make!

I do not like spinachfeeta pancake.
The taste is strong, and the green is sticking to my teeth.
I do not like the chicken pancake also, chicken should not be in many little small pieces, chicken should be big pieces to eat well.

I like some things. I like my jumper (it is cold), I like hot chocolate, I like the blanket that makes the bed warm, with the electricity.
Electricity is good.
Except when it does not work. Then I don't like it.

Hot water is very good.


~B.

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"Beorn" character, "Blogiþrótta", and text © 2003, Kirstin Wright.