Let me count the ways...

@N ~ OK. So I've already gone on (and on) about how much I love Autumn.  But really, I do!  Today has been rather chilly. A slow, steady drizzle since I stepped off the train this morning, and I felt a bit cold on the platform on the way home (it was 55 degrees F - tomorrow will be warmer they say).

My intentions for this evening were actually quite good. I was going to assemble a small wardrobe I bought at IKEA last week. Thanks to the coffee I bought on the train home, I am actually feeling rather awake and I ought to make the most of that.  But I've changed my plans: I've lit candles and tea lights. I'm drinking tea with milk in it. There's something involving apples, plums, and sugar simmering on the stove, and it smells divine and autumnal.  Silly girls from a Jane Austen movie are dancing around on my TV screen.  

An ideal way to spend a rainy Monday evening. The wardrobe can wait; I've lived without one for over a year and a few more days is not going to make one bit of difference.

September has come, it is hers,

whose vitality leaps in the Autumn,

whose nature prefers

trees without leaves and a fire in the fire-place;

So I give her this month and the next,

thought the whole of my year should be hers who has rendered already

so many of its days intolerable or perplexed

but so many more so happy;

who has left a scent on my life and left my walls

dancing over and over with her shadow,

whose hair is twined in all my waterfalls,

and all of London littered with remembered kisses.

~ Excerpt of Louis MacNeice's "Autumn Journal",

which is a lot longer, actually,

but this is the bit I like the most - especially that last line.

"All of London littered with remembered kisses"

HVAD mon Farmor ville have tænkt?

Det var fredag aften, og kirken var stuvende fuld. Det var VARMT. Menigheden svedte, men det var ikke så sært, for de dansede rundt - i midtergangen, sågar - og man fornemmede, hvordan de smukke gamle trælofter løftede sig en anelse, når hundrede mennesker i kor skrålede "I .... I .... believe in LOVE".  Oppe ved orglet, hvor Thorsager plejer at slå sine folder, stod præsten og graveren med armene om hinanden, og hujede lige så vildt som folket nede på rækkerne. Graverens mand skævede nervøst til dem - nu ville de vel ikke blive så løftet af stemningen, at de røg ud over gelænderet?

Præsten havde tidligere på aftenen stillet spørgsmålet - "rockkoncert i kirken - ka' man det?".  Og JA.  Det kan man i dén grad.  Jeg kan slet ikke huske, hvornår jeg sidst har været til så fed en koncert, og i så fantastiske rammer.  Folk jublede, dansede, blev en smule forelskede i forsangeren (vel gjorde I så, de damer, jeg så jer godt :-), klappede, sang med, havde en FEST.

Og jeg er så glad for, at vores kirke (efterhånden en adstadig dame på henved 850 år, som jeg holder meget af) oplevede at lægge hus til en aften som denne. Det var simpelthen fantastisk.

DIE HERREN indtog Øster Starup. Verdens navle :-)   

Og min Farmor fandt tilsyneladende arrangementet yderst tilfredsstillende; der var i hvert fald ingen synlige tegn på underjordisk roteren, da jeg var henne ved gravstedet og sige hej efter koncerten.

Fotos lånt af Charlotte + Die Herren.

Den forsømmelige blogger var afsted uden kamera (!)

@ N ~ just an average Sunday at our church.  Our vicar always gets a standing ovation after the sermon.

OK. Not really.  

But we do have an awesome vicar - she arranged a rock concert with a fantastic U2 cover band and I promise you, our 850 year old church rocked that night.  People were on their feet from the word go, singing along (loud!) to all the songs, dancing in the aisle - it was great. Most of the pics above were taken by the singer - from the pulpit.  You won't believe the atmosphere in that room; truly magnificent.

Selvportræt med bi

Jeg er jo begyndt at gå til bi (læs: har meldt mig til et kursus i biavl). Fordi jeg måske gerne vil have bier engang, og liiiige skal finde ud af, om jeg går totalt i panik, når tusindvis af vingede væsner flyver omkring mig med skarpladt brod.

Først har vi udholdt nogle teori-timer (tiiiimer med billede af erantis fra den ene side - fra den anden side - fra oven - og så har de i øvrigt hverken særlig meget nektar eller pollen. Herefter billede af mælkebøtter fra den ene side - og fra oven - og de er gode bi-blomster - og hov, et umotiveret billede af et bistade med sne på.  Jeg var lidt ved at sætte ild til mig selv undervejs)  og i dag skulle vi så endelig ud i skolebigården.

Jeg gik i øvrigt ikke i panik og jeg blev ikke stukket. Og så var det i øvrigt koldt, hvad hverken bierne eller jeg er særlig meget for.  Til gengæld skulle det blive godt i pinsen, og dét er en rar ting, thi jeg er inviteret på eventyr.

Et voila - din ærede blogger, med en bi på sløret:

@ N ~I'm taking a beginner's class - in beekeeping!  I'd like to keep bees some time, now that I've moved to the countryside, but first I need to learn a bit more about the ins and outs - and find out if I panic completely when they're swarming around me.

We've had a few theory lessons (one memorable hour-and-a-half was spent looking at pictures of flowers. Dandelion seen  from all angles. Linden trees. Strawberry flowers. Any flower.  Gah....) but today we got to look at real live bees for the first time. It's been too cold up until now, and to be honest, today wasn't great either (spring temperatures, come hither!). I'm pleased to report I did not panic, and I even managed to snap this beautiful self portrait. Whoop whoop!