Monthly Archive: February 2004

Because of idahoswede‘s post about a lovely image of death, I thought I’d share another version by Rita Mae Brown that I’ve always been partial to: I always thought that Death was just my size, height and weight. An invisible rope is tied around my waist and the other end is tied around Death’s waist. The younger you are, the longer the rope. If Death gives a yank, I can land flat on my face with injury, death or heartbreak. But if I tug on the rope with authority, I’ll live. I always thought that as I grew very old,...

All the little snowdrops and daffodils are pushing up and I’m afraid they’re going to get their heads frozen off. This weather can’t last. We ARE in Sweden, aren’t we? It’s ice cold and frosted outside, everything looks like a glass left in the freezer too long. But the sky, oh the sky! High and blue, and the sun is in fine form today, dancing, stabbing, cutting things off in stark relief shadows. It’s impossible to be in a bad mood on a day like this. Not that I’m in a bad mood, quite the contrary. As Meg says, a...

This morning, the sun struck the fields as if it was on a game show pulling back the curtain to reveal first prize. The sun as Vanna White. I used to LOVE watching The Price is Right when I was a kid. I thought it was fascinating that people always had eggbeaters and red pencils in their purses just in case. Anyway, first prize this morning in Flyinge was the jewel-encrusted, diamond-coated, mica-covered, glittering, sun-struck WORLD. Spring is lurking, a shy child hiding behind Mother Winter’s skirts, peeking out to smile at us. A whole week of sunshine and blue...

Driving home yesterday, I was fencing with the sun. Jab, jab, feint, parry. Then he stabbed me in the eyes and I had to call a truce and put down the shade. Cold, clear. Sunny. If there was snow on the ground I’d think I was in Michigan.

Mosaic Minds is looking for submissions! Our 2nd issue is coming out very soon on March 1st…but the deadline is also fast approaching for the April issue, which has the theme of Winging It. May’s theme is Heroes and Role Models. Please consider writing a feature article, a poem or a story or contributing artwork or photography. Look back through your older stuff, maybe you have something that just needs a bit of polishing that will work for one of the upcoming themes! We also highlight blogs and links of the week so if you know of something that might...

When I was maybe 6 or 7, there was a little girl that lived down the street from my grandparent’s house in Michigan. My grandparents had the coolest house. A 2-storey red brick with gabled roof that had a laundry chute from the second floor all the way to the basement, and a little iron door on the side of the house that opened to reveal a ledge which opened into the kitchen, where the milkman left his milk back in the day. They had morning glories on the back fence that gaped wide with the morning sun and were...

(edited to remove references to the boring HTML stuff my friend and I were talking about at the same time) liz: Hej there! got a question for you (hopefully a very easy one this time). liz: helllooooooooooooooooo? rg: yes? liz: 🙂 are you awake? rg: sorta liz: I don’t think you’re awake enough. rg: lol ok, but only if you acknowledge the fact that i have a tivo, and i’m the coolest person on my block. liz: tivo. if we get a dog, that’s what I’m naming it. liz: did you know tivo spelled backwards is ovit? rg: ovit. is...

I feel emotionally bruised this week. Not to mention stressed, rushed, busy, tired, aggravated, ad infinito nauseum. *** Email conversation with my husband today: Liz: (after he sent me a silly web video link) hee! 🙂 How’s your day going? I was going to call you…but you’re always so busy at work, I’m afraid to. XOXOXO anyway. Anders: You’re afraid to do what? Interrupt me when i’m looking up stupid videos on the net? We had a really well organized All-Employee-meeting today with three different stations describing what is going on in the company. I won an umbrella! Liz: cool!...

The fog came down in the night and coated everything with starry white lichen. It’s as if it got physical on us. Every winter-killed blade of grass, every pebble, every stripped and stiff bush is limned in frozen fog. The fog stuck around to greet the morning too, smothering the world. Your eyes play tricks on you as you drive through the fog. You expect the world ends over and over. It’s as if the world is creating itself as the car advances, the negatives of trees loom like transparencies. Get Out. I’m the Boss of My Ideas. They’re Not...

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