Day 8: Poinsettia

POINSETTIA:  Favorite holiday dish?

A:  Pinnekjøtt.

I have no idea what it is in English and I am too lazy to check right now.

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Day 6: Orange Blossom

ORANGE BLOSSOM:

If you could pick the gender and appearance of your child, would you?

A:  Yes.

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Day 5: Allium

ALLIUM:  What’s the best thing you can cook?

I make a mean pizza, but my favorite is a pot of mexican.

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Day 4: Foxglove

FOXGLOVE:  Name three facts about your family?

I`m the youngest of five.

I have six nieces and nephews.

My bro is having a heart surgery in a few weeks.

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Day 3: Jasmine

JASMINE:  What color looks best on you?

A:  Black.

Although green might be a good contender.

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Day 2: Carnation

CARNATION:
If I handed you a concert ticket right now, who would you want to be the performer?

A:  Freddy Mercury!

Hey, you never specified if it had to be a current band or living artist.  I would do murder to be able to go back in time and catch a Queen concert or five.

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Jeg lovte meg selv å skrive noe.

Idag har jeg hovedsakelig vært hos farmor.

Det var den dagen – ikke mye annet hendte.  For min del er det helt greit; jeg lever langsomt; mye trenger ikke hende for min del.  Jeg hadde tatt med meg den bærbare PCen nedover.  Ikke med noen plan i hodet for hvorfor jeg tok den med, bare at det kanskje var en god idé å medbringe en litt større skjerm enn mobilen idag.  Why not, liksom.  Det viste seg å være ganskje kjekt, ettersom jeg etter middagen kom på at jeg hadde en del gamle bilder å vise farmor.

På FaceBook er det en gruppe dedikert til å dele bilder fra grenda min farmor slekter fra. De har blant annet lagt ut en hel masse fotografier i svart-hvitt av mine oldeforeldre og deres naboer og slekninger.  Mange bilder er uten dato eller navn, og noen er fulle av kommentarer fra venner og slekt som husker hvem som er hvem, når, og hvor.  Altså en ganske spennende side dersom man vil ha oversikt over gammel-slekta, hundre år gamle setere, eller generell historie fra bøgda en stammer ifra.

Jeg tok frem laptopen og åpnet med et bryllupsbilde fra ca. 1928.  Det tok nesten et kvarter før vi gikk videre på neste bilde, for min farmor ønsket å identifisere mange av de som var avbildet.  Selv var hun ikke med på bildet, det var tross alt tatt en liten stund før hennes tid.  Men mor og far hennes var der, og venner og senere bekjente.  Denne identifiseringsprosessen ble gjentatt med flere av de andre bildene vi gikk igjennom – hus skulle inspiseres, folk skulle navngis.

Dette høres kanskje ikke så interessant ut slik jeg skriver det.  Tilgi meg, klokka er over ett om natta, og jeg rabler dette ned fordi jeg lovet meg selv at jeg skulle skrive ned minst to avsnitt om dagens hendelser før jeg gikk til sengs.  Men tenk dere hvor artig det er for lille meg å få høre på disse gamle historiene om min egen slekt – ekte folk som levde for over hundre år siden, eller steder som for lenge siden ble spist opp av naturen eller har brent ned og falt sammen.  Jeg liker spesielt å høre om de påfunn min farmor og gammel-tante fant på sammen, som den gang da de var riktig unge og hadde fått brutt opp krangelen seg imellom av far sin, men lurte ham til å tro at de ikke lenger var uvenner – for deretter å gå opp i skogen for å “kjekle videre i fred fra dumme fedre som ikke hadde noe med å blande seg inn i deres uenigheter”.

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Avbildet er mine oldeforeldre, samt diverse slekt og en gards-dreng.

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Five Nights at Freddy’s

FUCK THIS GAME.

So here’s my story on why this game terrifies me (besides the fact that I am easily terrified by scary games & jumpscares).  See, I work nights down at the docks. My job is to mostly sit in the small guard-room, and now and then check the surrounding area. It is pitch black outside my door, which I leave open to freshen the air. So when FriendZone decided to play this game live, and it was 2 AM where I was sitting in my little dark room with a small storm outside (complete with dramatic lightning), it became sort of mentally scarring.

It is now 7 AM, which is probably why I decided to word-vomit about it all over the place. I am also procrastinating pressing Play on another playthrough that I wanted (but at the same time didn’t want) to watch, because I am a wimp. My earlier experience with this game was a whole lot of NOPE.

To sum it up:  NOOOOOPE. 

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Writer’s Block

“A picture says a thousand words. Write them.”

aka  I WROTE A THING!

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After one miserable swing, she put her rather pathetic-looking ax immediately back down again and turned around to address her not-so-silent follower.

”You know, you could actually help me with this?”

There wasn’t exactly an answer, but the great lump waiting in the background blew out a small gust of air in what sounded suspiciously like a huff of laughter.

“Some friend you are.”

She heaved her ax again, and hit the giant trunk once more. This was going to take possibly forever, and she was so not looking forwards to however many hours of work it would take her to fell this great-grandfather of a tree. How old was this forest, anyway? She’d tried asking the creature a couple of times, but getting an answer out of that one was a lost cause on most days. She guessed she would have to settle with counting the rings of the tree-trunk or something equally tedious.

“Couldn’t you at least do something other than just sitting there doing nothing?”

No answer. No movement, either. If the creature had closed its eyes at that moment, it would be almost impossible to discern it from the surrounding nature. Said eyes might have shifted a bit, giving the tiniest indication that at least the light was on inside – pun not intended. She had absolutely no idea why the creature’s eyes did that glowing thing in the hours around dusk and dawn, and of course she could never get a straight answer out of that one, whatever it was. Now that she thought about it, it dawned on her that it was already getting fairly late in the evening. There was no chance whatsoever of her even reaching halfway into the trunk before full night would be upon them, never mind actually felling the whole tree. And why had she felt the need to overpower such an old entity all by herself? As she scratched her neck in thought, the light continued to withdraw from their surroundings. Ah, that was why: Shelter; Desperate times, and all that. There weren’t really any other trees of useful size growing in these parts, even if one happened to count the tiny apple tree holding on with its rather impressive roots to the great lump with the now fading eyes, who was not being the greatest of help at the moment.

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Live-tweeting to The Body Finder #1 & #2 (w. minor spoilers)

The Body Finder

• I am 99% sure that the guy just described in the search group is the killer. He had no murder-feel? CALLING IT!
• …he has no sound of a killer, but HE DIDN’T REALLY #KILL THEM, which gives him no resonance with Violet.
• …also, there’s some #ObviousLampshading.  He was described as unimportant, BUT with more than five words, all corresponding with killer’s POV.
• I could be wrong, though. The writer might actually not make this a huge twist and instead go along with her original (but unoriginal) idea.
• (I’ll be so disappointed if it’s not the unassuming military man. It’s a freaking #brilliant plot twist, having the killer not actually kill.)

• OK, they caught someone else, someone with all the “kill-feels” about him. I don’t like this. It’s way too early in the book to catch him.
• There’s a second guy. KNEW IT! Military man fo sho. He has no “trace” because he didn’t kill the others. He’s the hunter/gatherer.

• Oh yes, go for a run all alone with a killer out there. That sounds like a smart thing to do. #Moron
• Oh yes, leave the targeted girl alone in a public girls’ bathroom at prom, that’s totally safe! #Morons
• “I didn’t really kill them, you know, not really.” #HAH! NAILED IT!

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Desires of the Dead (The Body Finder #2)

• #Reading the sequel to #TheBodyFinder, and it’s pretty dang obvious that our new #unsub POV lady is The New Guy’s sister.
• Seriously? Now the author isn’t even TRYING to conceal #whodunit, because how much more obvious can these clues GET?!
• We have yet to meet The Dad, so I’m pretty dang sure he’s gonna be our Bad Guy of the episode. #ObviousLampshading

• Oh hai, there’s a body in the woods that insists on being found, but we think it’s an animal?  Kids, say hello to your dead mommy.
• Oh yes, identify the killer and THEN go out alone in the snow to dig up the dead “animal”. #Moron.  Lady, u dumb.
• Called it.  #TheEnd

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Tram Tales

Alternatively, ‘Tales from the Trolley’.

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I don’t think it’s been mentioned here yet, but I have recently moved to Oslo. That’s a completely different horror story, though.  But I`ll include a tiny little link to the GPS  that was tracking my terrible driving, for your viewing pleasure. In my own defense, Oslo is a TERRIBLE city to drive in!  Doing so completely on my own, for my FIRST time?  It’s a bloody miracle I`m still alive, I`m telling you!

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Anyways!

On to the trolley / tram / electric bus or whatever we’re going to call it.

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I haven’t been on a trolley before.  Maybe I traveled once or twice with my dad when I was 4 or 5, but I honestly don’t remember.  I only remember taking the subway with him  and collecting empty bottles for fun and for container deposit legislation reasons but let’s not talk about how I earned my first dollar.

This is the tram in question. Well, one of them. There were two, after all.

The point is, I am completely unfamiliar with this type of transportary vehicle.  It is a mystery to me, in much the same way as using the public bus felt like a ride of terror the first few times.

So I managed to do a few blunders here and there, like calling my cousin twice to confirm I was where I was supposed to be; asking for help three times; getting out of my seat five stops too early… Not to mention getting on the wrong tram on my way back home! Oy vey.  Luckily, I noticed the wrong number in time and got off that trolley to wait for the next (and right) one.  Crisis avoided!   Phew…

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Other stuff that also happened today on the tram:

• We drove past a shawarma joint!  I silently rejoiced.
• I saw a kid falling off his alu scooter. Either that, or his mother slapping him so he fell.  I`m still not sure what exactly happened.
• We had to stop twice for a police car with full lights and alarms going.
• A lady with a baby pram got honked on a lot for crossing the tracks in front of us.  It was actually kinda scary, as we were speeding downhill and had to forcibly hit the brakes to stop in time.

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