Wednesday, 9 April 2014

um meining og týdning - når det kommer til stykket



::

I used to like "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening."
I liked the coming darkness,
The jingle of harness bells, breaking--and adding to
--the stillness,
The gentle drift of snow. . . .
But today, the teacher told us what everything stood for.
The woods, the horse, the miles to go, the sleep--
They all have "hidden meanings."
It's grown so complicated now that,
Next time I drive by,
I don't think I'll bother to stop.
~ Jean Little

::

Danski yrkjarin hugtekur meg fyri tíðina.
Og eg njóti, at eg kann lesa enskar yrkingar uttan at hugsa,
hvussu tær kunnu verða brúktar í undirvísing, ella hvussu tær skulu pilkast sundur.
Men í staðin bara lata tær krúpa inn undir húðina og liggja har fjaldar og stillar.
Uden mening, men fuld af betydning.
Eitt sindur sum lívið.

::

Friday, 28 March 2014

løtan sum smakkaði av vári

Løtan hesa vikuna. Ein einføld, serlig løta. Ein løta eg vil steðga við, smakka og minnast. 

Thursday, 27 March 2014

Lisið

From the article: The overprotected child by Hanna Rosin:

"I used to puzzle over a particular statistic that routinely comes up in articles about time use: even though women work vastly more hours now than they did in the 1970s, mothers—and fathers—of all income levels spend much more time with their children than they used to. This seemed impossible to me until recently, when I began to think about my own life. My mother didn’t work all that much when I was younger, but she didn’t spend vast amounts of time with me, either. She didn’t arrange my playdates or drive me to swimming lessons or introduce me to cool music she liked. On weekdays after school she just expected me to show up for dinner; on weekends I barely saw her at all. I, on the other hand, might easily spend every waking Saturday hour with one if not all three of my children, taking one to a soccer game, the second to a theater program, the third to a friend’s house, or just hanging out with them at home. When my daughter was about 10, my husband suddenly realized that in her whole life, she had probably not spent more than 10 minutes unsupervised by an adult. Not 10 minutes in 10 years."

"Sandseter began observing and interviewing children on playgrounds in Norway. In 2011, she published her results in a paper called “Children’s Risky Play From an Evolutionary Perspective: The Anti-Phobic Effects of Thrilling Experiences.” Children, she concluded, have a sensory need to taste danger and excitement; this doesn’t mean that what they do has to actually be dangerous, only that they feel they are taking a great risk. That scares them, but then they overcome the fear. In the paper, Sandseter identifies six kinds of risky play: (1) Exploring heights, or getting the “bird’s perspective,” as she calls it—“high enough to evoke the sensation of fear.” (2) Handling dangerous tools—using sharp scissors or knives, or heavy hammers that at first seem unmanageable but that kids learn to master. (3) Being near dangerous elements—playing near vast bodies of water, or near a fire, so kids are aware that there is danger nearby. (4) Rough-and-tumble play—wrestling, play-fighting—so kids learn to negotiate aggression and cooperation. (5) Speed—cycling or skiing at a pace that feels too fast. (6) Exploring on one’s own."

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

Prei: So er várið komið


Nýtt Prei við snøggum monnum og spennandi søgum.
Eg slapp at gera portrettgrein um Edward.
Eitt fornøjilsi.

Og tað ger tað ikki verri, at greinin er í so ótrúliga lekrum, ráum og spennandi selskapi.

Monday, 24 March 2014

spulandi spæl



Ávegis inn í Bónus í morgun møtti eg batmann og supermann. Teir fektaðust oman eftir Karlamagnusarbreyt. Eitt sindur longur uppi kom mamman trillandi.

Seinnapartin spældi ein drongur einsamallur í fjallalendinum oman fyri barnagarðin í Hoyvík. Hann gekk har einasamallur millum grót og mýrulendi. Eg sá eingin onnur fólk uttanfyri, men drongurin hevði ein heilan her rundan um seg.

Í frískúlanum setti eg meg í sofuna eina løtu. Dreingir spældu uppeftir trappuni og inn eftir vesigólvinum. Legomenn og dinosaurar vóru á kanningarferð. Uppi á stovuhæddini stóð ein genta inn móti vegginum og taldi. Eitt, tvey, trý, fýra og upp í 10 taldi hon. Tríggjar ferðir. Tað er tað sama sum tretivu, hoyrdi eg hana siga við hinar, tá hon hevði funnið tær.

"Onkuntíð haldi eg, at onkur rópar á meg, men so er eingin har," segði 8 ára gamli, tá vit komu til hús. Tað er kanska pippið, segði eg. Tað, sum býr inni í høvdinum, sum ger, at børn duga at spæla og hugsa. Heimkomin blakaði hann jakkan og taskuna innum og fór út í grýtilendi at spæla. Inntil regnið fór at oysa yvireftir.

Hanna Rosin, The overprotected child
Frontline, Generation Like