Author: lizardek

Exaggerating: The woman next to me raises and lowers her adjustable desk 42 times per day. Not Exaggerating: Every time she does, my desk and the floor shake. Exaggerating: My fingers are frozen fast to my keyboard, mkaingy it bvery dissgult to typde Not Exaggerating: It’s damn bloody cold in this building. Exaggerating: Karin’s screaming last night when I tried to exchange her clothes for pajamas pierced every eardrum in a 20-yard radius and resulted in tinnitus for the entire family. Not Exaggerating (well okay, maybe a little): One day I may haul off and smack her a good one....

For those who want to see some of what’s behind my house:

We’re jammed in like sardines. Making things feel more unfair is the fact that one of our R&D sections across the building has a nice airy feel to it with lots of space between work stations and a little fika lounging area complete with a sofa. Our section is crammed in, with half of people’s workstations and bookcases taking up space in the aisles. I have almost nothing good to say about anything today, at least when it comes to work and open landscaping. The only thing that has made me moderately pleased is that my workspace is arranged to...

I’ve always thought I should start a journal. And once upon a time I did, although I didn’t keep it very long. When we moved to Belgium in 1976, my grandparents gave each of us kids a blank book to record our experiences living in Europe. Sarah’s was red, mine was dark brown, and they all had gold stamped curliques and designs on them…very posh. Reading back through my 12-year-old entries is an exercise in eye-rolling. I was such a dork! I made lists of my friends (shades of LJ) and wrote down all the gifts I got for my...

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...