Objects attack, run, run!

There was a big, grinning rip in J's trousers. It surely wasn't there five minutes earlier. Instead of shopping, I decided to be a handy mother and took a needle in my hand, where no needle ever has felt reliable security. I didn't stick it in my eyes, but I sew the trousers into my own trousers. It will be the latest fashion of the Spring: the twintrousers. Just like in the movie the other trousers are major and the other trousers are minor, except that the lengthier trousers don't speak in Austrian accent. Nor are they governor of any state.

Anyway, I quit the needlework and took my brush, but it felt like it wanted to fly across the air. I picked it up and banged my head. My desk has already been in use in the beginning of the 20th century in the railway office. It's big, not padded. I dropped the brush again, but it wanted a CD as a company. I picked them up and put the CD back on the self. Unfortunately it wanted to attack a suicide and jumped down. It turned to be a nasty mass suicide for all the covers. Well, I don't fancy covers anyway.

So, I took the handheld vacuum cleaner and the plain funeral was over in seconds, or it would have been unless I wouldn't accidentally have vacuumed one plant too. The machine obviously didn't enjoy it's plastic 'n plants. I think it's a bit dead.

The cat stared at me suspiciously and greedy. We went to the kitchen and I opened the fridge.
The mayonnaise wanted to be on the floor. So did the fragments of glass. The cat ran through the mess. The fridge wanted to sing a fanfare to make sure I would not forget that the door was still open. There was a mystical green E4 mark flashing in the LCD panel. I took the cat-food out and poured it into the bowl, which was full of grapes.

The cat stares at me. I stare at the computer. Is it possible that objects somehow have hostile thoughts towards you?

Superlon Mystery 18: It's a small pearl after all

There were no hen in Nohenland. It was all round bouncy and glittering gloomy place, full of gentle whispers.
Sleep sleep whispered the planets of dollywood.
Deep deep whispered the beach toys.
Peep peep whispered the distant voices of the sinister chicken.

Eiseemi Laxi: I have a horribly strong urge to say weep weep.
Stejar Strahl: I think we should take a giant leap out of here.
Darmadian black-haired dragon: Fast movements aren't allowed here.
Lieber Sandmann: The slowest movements may help you to find what you lost.

Eiseemi Laxi: Have you seen me turtle?
Darmadian black-haired dragon: The dawdlers are all gone, but we found your ring.
Stejar Strahl: The ring!
Darmadian black-haired dragon: Yes it's here, somewhere under the pillows, but small pearls are seldom found.

Lieber Sandmann: Never sleep with one eye open, it makes you too fired to see.
Darmadian black-haired dragon: Yes, if you mess up the dough, flour and potatoes on the floor you can't eat.
Stejar Strahl: I lost it again!
Lieber Sandmann: Take my sand, we're off to see the never clever hand!

To be continued...

Backyard conversations

The cubs and their friends are running in the backyard.
Suddenly they all stand still and start staring at each other.
They stare, stare and stare until my nerves crack.

Me: What are you actually doing there?
Kids: We are playing the Midas' arm.
Me: Oh, well.. erm... That's fine. [sit down thinking where did they catch that]

Strange man: [steps out from the bush behind]
There are bootleggers in the forest!
Me: [try my best not to scream] Really?
Strange man: [goggles at me and walks behind the corner, comes back, lights a pipe]
Paul Anka.
[goggles at me, mumbles something which sounds like an unpronounceable name for a woman and walks away]
Me: [try my best not to scream again]

J: [comes and sits by me] Mum. Do you remember K? (a girl from kindergarten)
Me: Yes.
J: [slightly annoyed tone in his voice] K and T (a boy from kindergarten) got married in the bushes.
Me: Really?
J: It's ok. I was the matchmaker. [leaves]
Me: [try my best to think how old he was]

J: [comes back] Is it true that women like funny men?
Me: Erm, yes I suppose, or not. I don't know. [try not to scream again]
J: [in slightly annoyed tone again] I'm going to marry you then.
Me: Erm... [try to think what an earth it is supposed to say in the situations like that]
J: [stares at me ]

A: Mum, can I sing to you?
Me: Go ahead. [relieved and pleased]
A: This is called 20 Odes to the Burps. [starts to sing from an old Christmas carol note]
Hei mippomapponen burp hei mippomapponen burp hei mippomapponen burp...
Me: Thank you it was lovely...
A: [happily] Can I have the Crazy Frog dvd then?
Me: Erm, I don't think so.
J: [stops staring] If he can have it, I want the Jack Cousteau dvd box. It comes with a red cap.
Me: [gaze into the distance]

Came with the wind

26.4.1986

At school I had a Math test, but I wondered if someone had noticed my new jeans.
Later I went riding with my friend and fell straight into the lake.
Afterwards we ate some fish and ice-cream.

Two weeks later I went to the hospital. I had got a terrible rash, but the doctors said I wasn't allergic to anything. There's no markings in my diary of Chernobyl. I was just a bit worried if he would saw the scratch marks on my neck. It was some hot and itchy spring.



----
Here's some quiet, beautiful photos taken by Finnish photographer Lasse Arkela.
Pripyat – Population Zero

(The page is unfortunately in Finnish. Choose lo-fi/ hi-fi to see the photos)

I wanna love you tender

Yeah yeah, Swedes have their Abba, but we've got Armi & Danny.

Welcome to Finland!








NB. The video is made in 1978.

After that watch this video too. It gets better in the end. My Mum has taken her dance lessons from that chap.

If you still can, you might enjoy more of
Moskau.

Breaking the Ice

Just to let you know:
Spring is here finally!

* had a picnic
* visited the Icebreak freestyle competition
* uploaded some photos into Flickr
* promised to bark less

Note to Self: Don't do this to your kids in 2033

---In the shop buying some beer for Mr. Fox.

Quite suddenly my mum's far too extrovert, gossipy friend jumps behind the selves.

Mum's friend: [glancing curiously over the bottles in the trolley]
Having a sauna-day? Are you sure that is enough?
Me:
a) Yes.
b) No, actually I drink three bottles of wine a day. It's not enough. Why don't you go now and tell the whole village what a boozer I am.
Mum's friend: [looking curiously at the bin-bags I bought]
Oh, you buy those cheap ones.
Me:
a) Yes.
b) Bugger off you curious b****.
Mum's friend: Your mother told me about that phone-incident. Don't do that anymore. It's not good to waste police's time.
Me:
a) Oh, ha ha, no I surely won't.
b) I'm going to kill my mum now.

---Later having a coffee with mum and some relatives

Mum: Are you sure of what you are doing? Isn't it good to be what you are? There must be thousands of well-paid vacancies open for those art... erm... something...what you are.
Me: I want at least try this...
Mum: If you'd go to study something else. A doctor sounds nice.
Me: Mum, I'm 33.
Mum: How about an assistant nurse then?
Me: Mum, seriously.
Mum: Have you got any money?
Me: Yes.
Mum: That's nice. [gives me a tenner]
Mum: Oh, almost forgot I bought you a present.
Me: Thanks! I have always wanted ... this revitalift antiwrinkle-cream.

The blog of the thousand lurkers

Yoho ahoy! All the 1000 profile viewers, where are you?
[facing the deepest possible silence]

Well then, my ten lovely readers. I'm happy you are visiting me.
A (3) made the image, The northern lights and a furry owl, which presents the utter gloominess of my blog.

What should I offer you. Lets see...
[mumbling]
...All I've got is lots of Pays d'Auge Cidre,
lots of vanilla ice-cream
and a blender...

...Whilst waiting you can read what has been searched from this blog:

- muscular woman
- laxi lady
- trouble at chariots sauna Thursday
- Guy Secretan is my father

Ta daa!
Cidershakes are ready,
may your heads go all bubblery!

Area of disorderly faulted terrain

Few weeks ago we rented a bigger basement for our stuff. I opened one random box and this is what I found:

1. A cubicle black stone from either Prague, Budapest, Česky Krumlov or Gdańsk.
2. My first (and obviously last) horse's hair.
3. A shopping receipt from 1926. The bought item was a lilac. (I have a piece of that as well in my old plant collection.)
4. Some unused jeans and corduroys from the 70's. (Designed for unusually tall twiggy person, which I am not. )
5. Dave Grohl's plectra.

I have one flat, one basement and one house full of stuff, which is unimportant, but important.
I was just sitting in my huge old armchair next to my precious books and I was thinking of what would happen to me if I had to choose only one thing to take with me.

I tried to imagine myself into a pure white room with just one object.
I tried to achieve a moment of enlightenment and harmony, but I realized I am an embodiment of chaos.
If I some day will end up to be alone, I will most likely face my destiny by being buried under my belongings.

I have always thought that it is good to live with a person who is different from you.
Mr Fox is very tidy (although he forgets everything).
He cleans all up with a boarding school based pedantry and then he forgets where he did put all his (and my) stuff.
I can find things easily from the mess I have made, but not from the room someone has cleaned up. (Actually, don't get me wrong, because I do clean up very often, but I can't keep my stuff under control.)

But what would it be like if I lived with an another embodiment of chaos?
Would it be an unfathomable confusion or a neutralized harmony?

Happy Easter!

There's a story quite funny,
About a toy bunny,
And the wonderful things she can do;
Every bright Easter morning,
Without warning,
She colors eggs, red, green, or blue.

Some she covers with spots,
Some with quaint little dots,
And some with strange mixed colors, too
-- Red and green, blue and yellow,
But each unlike his fellow
Are eggs of every hue.

And it's odd, as folks say,
That on no other day
In all of the whole year through,
Does this wonderful bunny,
So busy and funny,
Color eggs of every hue.

If this story you doubt
She will soon find you out,
And what do you think she will do?
On the next Easter morning
She'll bring you without warning,
Those eggs of every hue.

The Easter Bunny by
M. Josephine Todd (1909)

This bunny jumped back to the countryside

See you next week!

Superlon Mystery 17: Where do we go now but Superlon

Journey back to Superlon Valley was the intention of our fellow dudes.

Eiseemi Laxi: Home, here we come!
Stejar Strahl: The happy chappy reunion is soon to become true!
Eiseemi Laxi: I wish I had...
Stejar Strahl: You wish you hadn't got your clothes from the Easter egg?
Eiseemi Laxi: No, I wish I had a...
Stejar Strahl: You wish you hadn't put a wunderbaum in your armpit?
Eiseemi Laxi: Friend.
Stejar Strahl: Are you sure of this shortcut?

Baby Sinister Chick: No trespass...
Maybe Sinister Chick: ...without passports please.
Baby Sinister Chick: You're about to cross the border of Nohenland...
Maybe Sinister Chick: ...where no man before has rolled his eyes.
Baby Sinister Chick: We are moody...
Maybe Sinister Chick: ...but might offer you some goody.

Eiseemi Laxi: I see chicken!
Baby Sinister Chick: That's custard...
Maybe Sinister Chick: ...you bastard.
Baby Sinister Chick: A small fee please and after that you feel at ease.
Maybe Sinister Chick: Welcome to our beautiful country where the brass is green and the hen aren't witty.
Stejar Strahl: Are you still sure of this, friend?

To be continued...

Hairy tales

When I was a kid I had three fears:
1. Spiders
2. My hair gets burnt
3. Somebody cuts my hair and puts it in the box
[I had nightmares after seeing my mothers ponytail in the box. Shudders.]

Few weeks ago J (5) asked me why he is looking like a girl. Well, both of the boys are very nice looking and they both have the Julian haircut. Every once in a while some stranger calls them sweet little girls and I have noticed J gets upset. I may have to get some courage later in my life and if they want short boys hair I may have to say yes.

I have heard that short hair is nice and easy and whatever.

This is my bad hair year:
1. Spring
It's silvery gray day. The seagulls shout in the wind.
My hair is tangled.
It takes two hours to brush it straight.
2. Summer
The kids run on the golden hot beach.
My sunburned hair is full of sand, ice-cream, seagulls poo and salt.
It takes two hours to wash and brush it.
3. Autumn
The air is full of wet, orange leaves and leaving birds.
My hair is just wet like a dishrag.
4. Winter
It's black and white.
My hair is as electric as a small power station.
I'm just like a very pale rastafarian.
It takes two hours to brush it back to the shape.

If my hair would be short I wouldn't get stuck:
1. Between closing tram doors
2. In to somebody's handbag
3. In to some stangers' fingers whilst they are shaking hands [it's embarrassing]
4. In to a former celebrity's leather jacket

Few years ago I had enough of sitting painfully on my own hair and let the hairdresser to cut 12 inch off.
It wasn't worth of it. Nobody noticed a thing, except the hairdresser who charged me some mystical long-hair-extra-fee.
I bought my own scissors, but don't have the guts to cut my own hair.
My hair hurts.

The Hippy Trippy Moomins

My intention was to read bits and pieces from one Moomin comic book. The cub audience was disappointed when I quietly placed the book back to the self. I certainly didn't remember what kind of odd trolls the Moomins actually were.
Here's a short chapter from the comic strip Moomins in Torrelorca (by Tove's son Lars Jansson 1968):

1. -"These LBJ-pills don't seem to be very efficient."
-" But they form an addiction like popcorns do."
2. - "The sugar crusting is so good."
- "They say these effect on your sense of time."
3. - "I wonder if it's true? "
4. - "These LBJ-pills make me to behave irresponsible."
- "Yes, they definitely do."
5. -"It'll be best if we followed them. "
- "They did pop half a kilo and may do something terrible ."
6. - "Don't worry, they'll get high soon."

As a result the whole Moomin family end up staring at the moon for a week and they miss their flight.

This wasn't just once, because Moomins have also been to Riviera, where Moominpappa gambles his money, drinks whiskey and has got a terrible hang-over.

More Moomins not to be seen on the Japanese animation series:
- Moomins and Modern Art
- Moomins and the Guru
- Moomins and the Golden Tail (parody of the celebrities)
- Moomins and the Agent 008 ½

New Link! There are 24 comic books published, but unfortunately it seems they are not translated. Some more episode names:
- Moomintroll in Neanderthal
- Moomintroll and the Radicals
- Moomins and the Vampire
- The underdeveloped Moomins
- Moomintroll and the Marsians
- Mummytroll in the Wild West

The Boring Blog Post

At last, worn out with sorrow and fatigue, she fell asleep and dreamt that she was wandering along a flowery meadow, when she came to a hut where she found an old witch, who promised to restore her husband to her.*




I am bored.
I wiped all the music away. It's quite quiet here. Any suggestions?


* The Yellow Fairy Book by Andrew Lang

Superlon Christmas Special

It's quite suddenly Christmas Eve in Superlon.
All the chums are jolly and they cheerfully give away nearly everything they have.

Eiseemi Scrooge: Thank you. I have always wanted the "Posh and Becks' Small Impression" dvd.
Stejar Strahl: Thank you. I have always wished for the "Pontia Pilates workout" dvd.

Man far beyond wisdom twinkles his bells.
The Schildpatt Twins wonder what they definitely should not wear while having the funky chicken boogaloo with intensely groovy dull youths.
They all wine and dine, whine and finally argue what is yours and what was mine.

Saucy Santa shocks the fox by revealing it all.
Eiseemi Scrooge faints.
He sees the ghosts of Christmas past, looking through the windows, grinning, before they fade away.
Eiseemi Scrooge: O turtles where are thou?
The ghosts of Christmas past: We are here to show you the errors of your way. Go home.

Merry Bloggy Christmas to Lucy, Albert the Lonely Blog Post, Miranda, the Yucca Plant, Rodney the Pea, Opc in Not 4'33".

Drowsing, they take the noble attitude of a great sphinx, who, in a desert land, sleeps always, dreaming dreams that have no end *

When I was younger, I saw lots of dreams.
Many of those rather odd and peculiar dreams are painted on canvas, and the rest are written in the notebooks.
Here's one standard dream I had:
I'm standing on the beach at low water. There's a brown dog behind me and a large Art Nouveau style cupboard on the water. I open the doors slowly and see that it is filled with bones and skulls.
I dreamt for the whole decade of naked people, bones and water.
Could somebody call Freud, Marx, Engels, Jung and the Crane brothers.

In 2000 when I had my first son and soon the second one and I didn't have dreams for three years. [ I didn't sleep much.]
After that I have had just two kinds of dreams:
a) I'm in the train
b) I have just missed the train.
Until this year, when I have had few different kind of dreams, at last.

Last night I had this one:
I saw an electric blue coloured machine (don't know what it was) and somebody said:
"You shouldn't talk with them. They might be your mother."
These were the exact words, because the dream was in English. [Yes, the same lousy English with mistakes and all included.]
I have never had a dream in a different language before and it was just as odd as the whole dream was.

Well, it was welcome change after all.
I just wish I could have some kind of an ordinary dream. Are there any ordinary dreams?
I've never dreamed of flying and I'd love to.



This isn't a dream, but my friend "tailed the rock" sent this link to this video.

It's a prize winning Finnish animation of the fairy tale The three goats by Heikki Prepula. I loved his Gussy the Kangaroo in Space when I was a kid.



* Charles Baudelaire: The Cat

Tiny tigers on the loose

I let them finally out, but I'll have to go away for a while. See you!

Superlon Mystery 16: Not my cup of pea

Eiseemi Laxi finally got his dinner in the Peasant's Inn.
While he was enjoying his eggplants with white chocolate mousse and Bulgarian homebrew, the others had a serious discussion.

Stejar Strahl: Who are the Schildpatt twins?
Surprised man: They are the vocalists of the local muzak'n moll band.
Suspicious woman: Liselotte and Annigrete. I am their voice-over agent.
Stejar Strahl: Why would they be furious?
Suspicious woman: They can't have their tortoise shell covered keyboards now.
Stejar Strahl: Oh, they aren't the baddies then? Who is your boss? Is he one of the fighters over there?
Björn the Bear: No, they are just having a rehearsal for a sitcom.

Surprised man: Our boss is Iseeu Salmo-salar, the head-officer of the Piscatory People Ltd.
Stejar Strahl: Haven't I heard of him somewhere before? Eiseemi?

Eiseemi Laxi: This mousse horrifies my taste.
It is like the gobblery fish-loaf my mother used to cook for dinner when I was a teenager and wanted a have another friend besides my long johns.


To be continued...