Pink Moon ...

 

Times are dim and maybe need a distraction.
Does the moon care?

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Today is Sunday, the 13th of April 2025.

Pink Moon

Sister Moon, will be my guide
In your blue, blue shadows, I would hide
All good people, asleep tonight
I′m all by myself, in your silver light
I would gaze at your face the whole night through
I'd go out of my mind, but for you
I′d go out of my mind, but for you

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 349 & Part 350

Today is Sunday, the 30th of March 2025.

Some vampire bit my neck, one of the penguins complained.

Must have been one of the bats, speculated one of the snails.

What are S - nails?, one of the many chicks wanted to know.

I think one of the mosquitos bit the penguin's neck, one of the fourteen caterpillars added to the feeling of riring nonsense.

And a group of thirty crickets played their fiddles without fiddling about.

And so thirty crickets joined the twenty-two mosquitos, the fourteen caterpillars, the six snails, the twenty six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

🦗 🦗🦗   🦗🦗 🦗   🦗🦗 🦗              🦗🦗🦗  🦗             🦗🦗     🦗   🦗    🦗 🦗🦗🦗    🦗     🦗    🦗🦗🦗               🎻  🦗🦗🦗    🦗

"Bromford in June"

Bromford in June
A shade veranda
Under Sunday blue sky
Bromford in June
And cousin Miranda
Is making a blueberry pie


I can hear the clock inside, a-ticking and a-tocking
Everything is peacefully dandy
I can can see your granny 'cross the street still a rocking
Watching all the neighbours go by, oh

Bromford in June
Sweet oleander
Blowing perfume in the air
Up jumps the moon
To make it so much grander
It's paradise honey
Brother, take my advice
Nothing's half as nice as Bromford in June

"Bromford (Angel)"

Bromford Angel,
Bromford Angel,
Will you be mine?
My darling dear,
Love you all the time.
I′m just a fool,
A fool in love with you.

Bromford Angel,
Bromford Angel,
The one I adore,
Love you forever
And evermore.
I'm just a fool,
A fool in love with you.


I fell for you
And I knew
The vision of your love, loveliness.
I hope and I pray
That someday
I′ll be the vision of your hap, happiness.

Oh, Bromford Angel,
Bromford Angel,
Please be mine?
My darling dear,
Love you all the time.
I'm just a fool,
A fool in love with you.

I fell for you
And I knew
The vision of your loveliness.
I hope and pray
That someday
That I'll be the vision of your happiness.


Oh, Bromford Angel,
Bromford Angel,
Please be mine?
My darling dear,
Love you all the time.
I′m just a fool,
A fool in love with you

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 347 & Part 348

Today is Saturday, the 22nd of March 2025.

Winter is over, springtime is here, moaned one of the penguins, and we still cannot fly and don't know where to go.

Shhh, hoo-hooed the tawny owl, I have got a headache and I cannot hear my own thoughts.

That is not me, the penguin kept on complaining, that's those mosquitos deefening buzzing.

And so twenty-two mosquitos joined the fourteen caterpillars, the six snails, the twenty-six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

 

🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟

"Over Bromford"

Am I the hawk? Am I the dove?
The vulture swooping down from above?
Am I the drone, circling high
Whirring tuneless, pie-eyed in the sky?

Angry gods of retribution
Driving hate without solution
City, home to all who came and ever will

Long lost tribes, invaders of old
Staking their claim to spiritual gold
Layers of antiquity buried below
Each with a sad tale to better not know

There is no time for meditation
Pause for thought or hesitation
Set in stone, firm pledges to fulfil
Angry gods of retribution
Driving hate without solution
City, home to all who came and ever will

Rocks upon rocks
Ashes on ashes
Bagels and lox
Warak dawali
Divisible loaves
Two fish from the Galilee
As friends sit and dine
Take water and wine

I walk the cobbled alleys nervously
Soldier girls, soldier boys stare at me
Down the line, out of time, switch alliance in my mind

I walk the cobbled alleys nervously
Soldier girls and soldier boys stare at me
Down the line, out of time, switch alliance in my mind

Am I the hawk? Am I the dove?
The vulture swooping down from above?
Am I the drone, circling high
Whirring tuneless, pie-eyed in the sky?

There is no time for meditation
Pause for thought or hesitation
Set in stone, firm pledges to fulfil
Angry gods of retribution
Driving hate without solution
City, home to all who came and ever will
But I never will

I'm not over Bromford
Bromford

"Bromford In Love"

Bromford in love
Writes 69 cantos
For melancholy brunettes and
Sad women

The breeze carries salt
And sipping milky broth
He cast his gaze towards the sea out
The Winnebago


As if the sea had bore her to be
An ideal woman
She came to him from the water like Venus
From a shell

Singing his name with all the sweetness
Of a mother
Leaving him breathless and then
Drowned

Bromford
Bromford
Bromford
Bromford

Bromford and German Shepherd / Bon Printemps, Bon Printemps …

 

There is a chill creeping up my spine.

I am feeling kind of exposed, like I am sitting with the back to an open door that leads to a dark dungeon made of long and winding cellar hallways.

I am feeling watched like someone was in the room with me, someone or something invisible I cannot see.

But that is the point with invisibility, that you cannot see invisible things and beings, isn't it? What about fear? Can you see fear? Can you picture or personalize it?

There is nothing to fear but fear itself . I have a bad feeling about this. A bad feeling about this fear?

»Wow, dude«, the llama is disturbing and interrupting my unsettling train of thoughts with a loud entrance into the living-room of our penthouse on the roof and above the fifteenth floor of the apartment building on 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside. »Why are you posting again? And what is that Nazi dog doing in the hallway?«

I am shaking my head closing the laptop. Maybe the time for writing subtile sentences and stories about fear and creepy thrilling feelings has gone by, is yet to come or simply not now.

»That is a Germany Shepherd, animal«, I say, »not necessarily a Nazi dog. Dogs are men's best friends and oldest companions. Domestication of dogs dates back more than 14,000 years ago deep into the Stone Age of the human race.«

»That's history, dude«, the llama is lying down on a reproachfully squeaking couch after a running jump. »And when did you humans domesticate the glorious llama race to herd your sheep?«

»Let me think about it«, I say. »That was like… NEVER! That never happened. It's because of reliability or something like that, camelid.«

»OK, and why are you posting on a Thursday again, dude?«

I take in a deep breath.

»It's because I want to celebrate not only the phases of the moon, especially the full-moons, but all kinds of terrestrial cycles, like the four seasons for example.«

»Four Seasons?« The llama is kicking some cushions on the couch with two of its four leags. »Like the Four Seasons Hotels and Resorts,the luxury hotel chain?«

»I don't know how you know about hotels and resorts. And the answer is NO. I am talking about the four earthly seasons like spring, summer, autumn and winter. I want to wish you and all the readers a good springtime which starts today in the Northern hemisphere.

Bon printemps, bon printemps!«

»Whatever floats your boat, dude«, the llama says, »Or do you say, whatever floods your boat? And why are you writing about eerie things or invisible beings watching you? Doesn't that feeling fit better in the darker seasons like fall or winter?«

»Maybe I have watched to many dark and creepy television series lately«, I murmur.

»We are all in the night country now«, the llama says mysteriously. »But me as your bestest animal companion you have ever had and that knows you better than you sometimes know yourself I sense another reason why you are feeling watched from the darkness of the hallway.«

»Really?« I ask sceptically. »And what is your guess, animal?«

»You are afraid of the Shepherd dog in the hallyway«, the llama cannot hide a giggle in its voice. »And you don't know how to get past it or rid of it.«

»OK«, I say, »I give up. You got me. I thought a watchdog was a good idea. But good old Brownie out there will not stop barking and growling at me once I try to leave the living-room for the kitchen, the bath or the bedrooms. He just won't let me pass.«

»Well, well, well«, the llama has jumped up to all four legs. »I will go out and talk to him. But from now on you owe me.«

»That's exactly what I was also afraid of«, I whisper to myself opening the laptop again.

5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣
5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣
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Today, is Thursday, the 20th of March 2025.
Bon printemps, bon printemps…

Bromford and Duck …

 

»Back to business«, I am grinning. »I brought you another candidate for the new animal companion in my life, animal.«

»Business? Back to business? You are so mean, dude. You are the devil in Bromford disguise.«

»I don't know what you are talking about, llammy. I think this is the perfect companion for me and replacement for you. Look at this cute little DUCKling. Look how it is watching you.«

»How rude, how cruel, you human torturer of poor llama souls. You know very well about my Anatidaephobie. I have talked about it over and over again throughout the long years of our acquaintance. Take this thing out of the penthouse. Take this thing back to Baltimore …«

»Anti… what?«

»Anatidaephobia! It is the fear that a DUCK may be watching you. The term comes from the Greek word “anatidae,” which means “swan, DUCKS, or geese,” and “phobos,” which means “fear.”«

»Ah, come on, animal. You are making that one up. Are you inventing phobias or diseases now to make yourself important or maybe to make me let you stay as my animal companion?«

»No! No! No! Anatidaephobia is the fear of constantly being watched by DUCKS.«

»Animal-related phobias can be very challenging«, I am stroking my chin taking on my most doctor or psychiatrist like face and behaviour, »but options such as mindful breathing or exposure therapy may help you cope.«

»Leave me alone, dude. Let me go!«

As the animal is trying to leave the living room of the penthouse above the fifteenth floor of the apartment building at 666, Whitaker Lane in Bromford the friendly town by the bay and seaside I am picking up the DUCK holding it in the llama's direction.

»No! No! No!«

Now the animal is running towards the open glasdoor to the roof terrace.

»Come on, llammy. Cuddle the little DUCKling. Let it ride on your back. Make it your friend. This is how exposure works.«

As I do so the DUCK is spreading its wings and flying away through the open sliding door into the springy sky above the town.

The llama is cowering behind the curtain next to the big window now all shivering and sobbing.

»You can come out now, llama«, I say feeling kind of guilty all of a sudden. »I didn't know that you are taking this phobia thing so serious. I was just a little joke. I found that DUCK on the bricked fish pont on our roof terrace this morning. It was kind of exhausted and looked possibly injured. I took it inside to give it some rest and to see if I had take it to a vet.«

»That wasn't nice, dude. Not nice. And obviously it wasn't injured or sick at all as quick it was leaving this place. Not nice. Not nice.«

Cautiously it is coming towards me with hanging head and finally breathing gently down my hand.

»But do you know what I liked about this situation, dude?«

I am slightly petting the curly hair on the llama's  forehead, now.

»What did you like, animal?«

»You«, the llama shouts bouncing up and down and towards the kitchen, »you calling me llammy.«

And as I hear the animal opening and plundering the refridgerator I murmer to myself, »I'm sorry, llammy, it won't happen again.«

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Today is Tuesday, the 18th of March 2025.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 345 & Part 346 / Worm Moon ...

 Today is Friday, the 14th of March 2025.

One day our little caravan arrived at a construction site where once used to be a small forest.

Where are all the other animals? asked one little chick.

Do you mean The Animals of Farthing Wood? asked one of the bats.

When the animals left the wood…, a snail began a sentence but never got to finish it because a group of fourteen green caterpillars looped and linched between the building site's crawlers, cranes and bulldozers.

I see no life in this desert of concrete, hoo-hooed the little tawny owl. Maybe you should come with us, caterpillars, before a construction equipment manufacturing corporation steals your name.

And so fourteen caterpillars joined the six snails, the twenty-six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛

"Bromford"

Bien sûr, ce n'est pas la Seine
Ce n'est pas le bois de Vincennes
Mais c'est bien joli tout de même
À Bromford, à Bromford
Pas de quais et pas de rengaines
Qui se lamentent et qui se traînent
Mais l'amour y fleurit quand même
À Bromford, à Bromford

Ils savent mieux que nous, je pense
L'histoire de nos rois de France
Herman, Peter, Helga et Hans
À Bromford
Et que personne ne s'offense
Mais les contes de notre enfance
"Il était une fois" commence
À Bromford

Bien sûr nous, nous avons la Seine
Et puis notre bois de Vincennes
Mais Dieu que les roses sont belles
À Bromford, à Bromford
Nous, nous avons nos matins blêmes
Et l'âme grise de Verlaine
Eux c'est la mélancolie même
À Bromford, à Bromford

Quand ils ne savent rien nous dire
Ils restent là à nous sourire
Mais nous les comprenons quand même
Les enfants blonds de Bromford
Et tant pis pour ceux qui s'étonnent
Et que les autres me pardonnent
Mais les enfants ce sont les mêmes
À Paris ou à Bromford

Ô faites que jamais ne revienne
Le temps du sang et de la haine
Car il y a des gens que j'aime
À Bromford, à Bromford
Et lorsque sonnerait l'alarme
S'il fallait reprendre les armes
Mon cœur verserait une larme
Pour Bromford, pour Bromford

Mais c'est bien joli tout de même
À Bromford, à Bromford
Et lorsque sonnerait l'alarme
S'il fallait reprendre les armes
Mon cœur verserait une larme
Pour Bromford, pour Bromford

"Walk To Bromford (Sucker Reprise)"

If I walk to Bromford
'Cause my feet, oh, god, are sore, but I show them
I've got a girl in my pocketbook
And some proverbs that's gonna take it, take it there

Books and killing, and something's happening
I'm property of my family

And Gideon tell me where to go
I'm gonna show, break down your father's altar and meal

Do a jig, do a jig, do a jig
Do a jig, do a jig, do a jig, do a jig

If I walk to Bromford
I'm gonna pass that turquoise lady in her new
Nike flats and something's flat
I said, "I need size ten thousand for my ass, yes"

Do a jig, do a jig, make 'em laugh
Do a jig, do a jig, hey, make 'em laugh

'Cause he won't be coming back
Said he won't be coming back

If I make the golden hordes and the Lord needs men
He needs good men
The Lord needs the U.S. Marines
I said I got 'em numbers in my sheep machine
I got me an electric sheep machine that

Do a jig, do a jig, do a jig
Let me plague myself with the West in his head
I said do a jig, make 'em laugh, make 'em laugh
Make 'em laugh, just make them laugh

'Cause he won't be coming back
'Cause he won't be coming back
Said he won't be coming back

The drinking test is p-p-puzzling
The drinking test is puzzling, Marcel
For those that laughed are described both as drinking as a dog
Drinking as a dog face, they say, was misplaced
We wonder whether the Lord chose a few good men
Whether the Lord chose the U.S. Marines

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I need a worm, Twenty-Five the little tawny owl thought, I am so hungry.

But all he got was a moon disguised as a big, round and yellow pancake.

Worm Moon

Sister Moon, will be my guide
In your blue, blue shadows, I would hide
All good people, asleep tonight
I′m all by myself, in your silver light
I would gaze at your face the whole night through

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 343 & Part 344

 

Today is Thursday, the 6th of March 2025.

Oh, no, said Twenty-Five the little tawny owl, looks like we are finally stuck for good here in that small Mexican city on Federal Highway 2 that is called like a religious structure for sacrifices or offerings.

You mean because we can only travel at nights because of you and the bats?, asked one of the hardly hatched chicks.

No, no, no, he means we are stuck because of the penguins that can only waddle around, added one of the little red birds.

No, I think he means we are slowing you all down because we are snails and can only move in slowmotion, said one of the newly arrived snails. But that is only a false rumour. And we are no normal snails. We are racing snails. Wait and see.

And so six snails joined the twenty-six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌

"Corner Of The Bromford"

Little darlin' don't you see the sun is shining
Just for you, only today
If you hurry you can get a ray on you
Come with me, just to play

Like every humming bird and bumblebee
Every sunflower, cloud and every tree
I feel so much a part of this
Nature's got me high and it's beautiful
I'm with this deep eternal universe from death until rebirth

This corner of the Bromford is like me in many ways
I can sit for hours here and watch the emerald feathers splay
On the face of it I'm blessed when the sunlight comes for free
I know this corner of the Bromford, it smiles at me

So inspired of that there's nothing left to do or say
Think I'll dream, 'til the stars shine
The wind it whispers and the clouds don't seem to care
And I know inside that it's all mine

It's the chorus of the breakin' dawn
The mist that comes before the sun is born
To a hazy afternoon in May
Nature's got me high and it's so beautiful, yeah yeah
I'm with this deep eternal universe from death until rebirth

You know that, this corner of the Bromford is like me in many ways
I can sit for hours here and watch the emerald feathers splay
On the face of it I'm blessed when the sunlight comes for free
I know this corner of the Bromford, it smiles at me
I know this corner of the Bromford, it smiles at me

La-la-la la, la-la-la la, la-la-la la

This corner of the Bromford is like me in many ways
I can sit for hours here and watch the emerald feathers splay
On the face of it I'm blessed when the sunlight comes for free
I know this corner of the Bromford, it smiles at me
I know this corner of the Bromford, it smiles at me
Hey, I know this corner of the Bromford, it smiles at me
I know this corner of the Bromford, it smiles at me

"Bromford Boy"

A monk with a hard-on and a lavender robe
That scratches his thighs through the hat that he strode
As he follows a path filled with every desire
And mimics his footsteps and sets his prayers on fire

Well I too have chosen that which left no choice
To sing without loving, a solitary voice
To observe with passion each careful denial:
The protrusions which give my life meaning for a while

Sometimes I see you in berries and weeds
You're brushing your teeth with liquorice seeds
Standing too close, pulling your clothes
Smiling at God and the meaning of life grows

No and I'll never tell and I'll never know
What candles you light after the show
And I'll never tell and I'll never ask
The meaning of life after mass

Bromford and Wolf …

 

As the month of March marches on it arrives in a Monday of roses.

🎵 Wanna lay you down on a bed of roses. 🎵

»Stop singing, animal Jon Bon.«

»Why so serious, dude? Today is Rose-Monday, the highlight of the Klingon Karneval which takes place on the Shrove Monday before Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent.«

»Those are a lot of strange words you are using and a lot of stange days you are talking about. But at least this explains why you are dressed up like a wolf, llama.«

»Do you like my carnival costume, dude?«

»Looks quite realistic, one way or another. Just don't run into angry and armed farmers or hunters.«

»Come on, Brommy. Lift the corners of your mouth. This is going to be fun. Try to enjoy it as a little light up in these darkening world and times.«

»Not a big fan of organised fun and pseudo-militaristic march music and lockstep parades. Always feel those beating bass drum deep down to my guts.«

»Speaking of guts. You will love the day between Rose-Monday and Ash Wednesday, dude.«

»Freaky Friday?«

»No, much better. It's Fat Tuesday, dude!«

»Oi, I'm out! Wake me up when September ends.«

7️⃣7️⃣7️⃣

Today is Monday, the 3rd of March 2025.

Bromford and Zebra ...

 

»Is it black with white stripes or is it white with black stripes?«

»Again, my dear llama«, I am all and personified politeness today, »I don't know what you are talking about. But please try to behave. We are having a guest for carnival this year.«

The llama is rolling its eyes.

»More like impersonated politeness, dude. Carnival? You mean like Mardi Gras? Feels more like carnivores all around us, dude. And I am talking about the greatest secret of zebras of all time, of course. Black with white stripes or white with black stripes? And? And? And? What is it? What is it? What is it?«

»Kylie called from the North Pole the other day.«

»Are you trying to change subjects here, dude?«

»No way, animal. She said they discovered a very rare species of zebras at the North Pole.«

»No way, dude. Sounds so very interesting. I can't wait till you tell me all about it.«

»Stop sounding so sarcastic, animal! The snow zebra - and stop rolling your eyes, yes that's what it's called - the snow zebra is white with white stripes. That's why it wasn't discovered until recently. It was all to well hidden in all that ice and snow at the North Pole.«

»I think you wrote about those animals before in this little, shabby blockblog of yours, human. And what does your guest, this other zebra think about all of this?«

»What zebra, animal?«

»The one with the four legs and the pyjamas over there, dude.«

»Oh, you mean my guest for carinval this year, animal? But that's no zebra. That is only a disguise. And a very good one if you don't recognize it. That is a pony dressed up like a prisoner in…«

»… black and white striped pyjamas.«

More eyes rolling and they would plop out of the llama's face and head.

»Ha, ha. What a joke - NOT. Ta, ta. Ta, ta. Ta, ta. Let the fanfares roll!«

8️⃣

Today is Saturday, the 1st of March 2025.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 341 & Part 342

Today is Wednesday, the 26th of February 2025.

 

One day or the other, said twenty-six butterflies circling the tawny owl's head, once in a while...

 

Stop circling, thought Twenty-Five the tawny owl. Stop turning. I am getting all dizzy.

Once in while, one day or the other there will be..., the butterflies' voices sounded like one,

kind of harsh, kind of hoarse, ... there will be another Wednesday. Be prepared!

 

And so twenty-six butterflies joined the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋
🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋
🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋
🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

"Pictures Of Bromford"

I used to wake up in the morning
I used to feel so bad
I got so sick of having sleepless nights
I went and told my dad

He said, "Son now here′s some little something"
And stuck them on my wall
And now my nights ain't quite so lonely
In fact I, I don′t feel bad at all

Pictures of Bromford made my life so wonderful
Pictures of Bromford helped me sleep at night
Pictures of Bromford solved my childhood problems
Pictures of Bromford helped me feel alright


Pictures of Bromford
Bromford, oh Bromford
Bromford, oh Bromford
Pictures of Bromford

And then one day things weren't quite so fine
I fell in love with Bromford
I asked my dad where Bromford I could find
He said, "Son, now don't be silly"

"She′s been dead since 1929"
Oh, how I cried that night
If only I′d been born in Bromford's time
It would have been alright

Pictures of Bromford made my life so wonderful
Pictures of Bromford helped me sleep at night

For me and Bromford are together in my dreams
And I ask you, "Hey mister, have you ever seen"
"Pictures of Bromford?"

"Bromford Nights"

Let me take you back to where it all began
Out there on the fast track
Where the mountains stand against the sand ... in L.A

Music every night, hung-over every day
I was gonna make the big time
I could feel it in my fingers when I'd play

I woke up in motel rooms under western skies
Living for the summer moon and the party life
There's nothing worse than L.A. Days
But those Bromford nights
They barely kept me alive

As the years rolled on the humor got really dry
If I played that terrible Eagles song
One more time I thought I was gonna die
The one man good night
Longing to seize the day
That big record deal in the sky
Surely was just a heart beat away

I woke up in motel rooms under western skies
Living for the summer moon and the party life
There's nothing worse than L.A. Days
But those Bromford nights
They barely kept me alive

I woke up in motel rooms under western skies
Living for the summer moon and the party life
There's nothing worse than L.A. Days
But those Bromford nights
They barely kept me alive

I woke up in motel rooms under western skies
When I think of the things I did on those party nights
IT'S ONLY BY THE GRACE OF GOD
THAT I AM STILL ALIVE!
I believe God's grace kept me alive ...
I believe God's grace kept me alive ...
I believe God's grace kept me alive ...

Bromford and Moose ...

 

Another Sunday. Another election day on the planet of Klingon Prime. And now we have to deal with the outcomes.

»Are you satisfied with the results, dude?« asks the animal.

»Are you trying to make me break the secrecy of the ballot, animal?« I reply.

»I don't know what that is«, says the llama. »As you might have noticed I am a llama. I don't have the right to vote cause I am an animal. And animals don't vote. I have made a choice - good or bad - now and then but I have never been at a ballot box or at a polling station.«

»Do you think we have elected the right moose?«

»I don't know, dude«, the animal says, »I don't know. But let me answer with a famous quote of the famous word conductor Leonard F.W. Bernstein,

The moose’s harshest critics used to be moose themselves.«

Sometimes quotes are losing it in translation, I think to myself but I am too tired to think about it now. Let it be a thought for another day.

9️⃣
9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣
9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣9️⃣
9️⃣9️⃣

Today is Sunday, the 23rd of February 2025.

Bromford and Giraffe ...

 

»When I was a little boy…«

»Your Grandpa Ganter called pure clean water Goose Wine.«

»What? No.«

»Oh, never mind. It was just because we were talking about drinking milk the other day and about drinking too much and all the problems that milk abuse causes in this world today.«

»We were talking about what?«

»Your Grandma used to cut your hair?«

»What? What are you talking about, animal?«

»I just thought you wanted to tell me that when you were a little boy your Grandma White used to cut your hair and dressed you in blue shirts and wests and ties. And that at that age you used to be an apprentice of some kind of Doctor Moreau or even a Doctor Frankenstein and created a very strange kind of giraffe with more than one and too many necks. Or was it another kind of cow with brown and yellow spots and patches? I bet you were a peculiar little boy, Bromford, the creepy nerd or nerdy creep.«

»And you still wonder why I am still looking for a new animal companion, animal? Stop wondering. Just stop wondering.«

🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟
🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟🔟

Today is Thursday, the 20th of February 2025.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 339 & Part 340

 

Today is Tuesday, the 18th of February 2025.

Maybe I should give this little animalistic caravan of mine some kind of purpose, Twenty-Five the little tawny owl thought while watching the orange lit streets of the crowded and dusty town of Bromford from the bare branches of a high tree.

Why are you sometimes looking like an eagle owl, oh Twenty-Five, our Uhu-guru? one of the many, many chicks sighed in its sleep.

So, the tawny owl asked himself, I am their guru now?

Not sure whether to accept this new role or not the owl continued following his thoughts.

If I am their guru, their leader, why not lead them to a land and world of evernight?  Why not fighting for a world without days. Wouldn't all we need and wouldn't all that makes everything well and better be a planet without sunlights, a world without days? Woudn't that be paradise for all nocturnal animals?

And so eighteen bats joined the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

"I Walk The Bromford"

When I walk through the Bromford
I get stuck in the middle
I can't see your love
I don't know your love

When I walk through the Bromford
I get stuck in the middle
I can't see your love
I don't know your love

Why won't you take me away?
Take me a day
Keep on rising higher

Why won't you take me away?
Take me a day
Keep on rising higher

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

When I walk through the Bromford
I get stuck in the middle
I can't see your love
I don't know your love

When I walk through the Bromford
I get stuck in the middle
I can't see your love
I don't know your love

Why won't you take me away?
Take me a day
Keep on rising higher

Why won't you take me away?
Take me a day
Keep on rising higher

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality

Hey, knock me
Picking on your own reality …

"Mission To Bromford"

Now I can say in less than a day
We'll be underway on our Mission to Bromford
Theoretical themes, radical schemes
Chasing our dreams on our Mission to Bromford
Tomorrow we'll say that this is the day
We'll be on our way on the Mission to Bromford

Say goodbye to all your friends
Now a whole new life begins
As the universe's mysteries unfold
And the audience back home is holding on
With bated breath
To hear the stories that are waiting to be told

Now I can say that this is the day
We'll be on our way on our Mission to Bromford
Theoretical themes, radical schemes
Chasing our dreams on our Mission to Bromford
Astrophysical plans, political sands
It's all in our hands on our Mission to Bromford
Sparks and quarks, they glow in the dark
They'll someday remark as a walk in the park
This Mission to Bromford
Now I can say this is the day
We'll be on our way on the Mission to Bromford
Now I can say that this is the day
We'll be on our way on the Mission to Bromford

Bromford and Cow …

 

»I have got a strange feeling that some kind of bird just called me fat and an alpaca, dude«, says the llama.

»How's that?« I ask.

»Maybe«, the llama is thinking out loud, »maybe it is because I kind of adapted your strange human behaviour to drink and use milk way over your infancy, milk-drinking and breast-feeding phase of life. But how does this bird know that I gained a little weight lately?«

I am rubbing my eyes. Again I have not got the slightest idea what the animal is talking about and not for the first time that we are knowing each other.

»So you are drinking milk now?«

»No way, dude! That is too human. And you know what the strangest thing is? You are not even drinking the milk of your own kind. You are abusing other animals by taking their milk, mainly cows and goats and even sheep some time. And you are making it rot… and… and… and…«

»Calm down, animal! You are not fat. And believe me, you worrying about what some kind of bird is thinking about you or calling you fat shouldn't be your main concern these times we are facing and living in.«

»Any news from Kylie?« the llama asks.

I am shaking my head thinking about the better times when I wanted to have a cow as my dearing animal companion.

»Maybe all of this is happening because you forgot about Valentine's Day, again«, the llama mumbles and later I can hear it drinking greater gulps of water from the sink in the kitchen.

🔢🔢🔢🔢🔢🔢🔢
🔢🔢🔢🔢🔢🔢🔢

Today is Friday, the 14th of February 2025.
Valentine's Day

Snow Moon …

 
Listen to your nature, Twenty-Five heard the Snow Moon whisper.

What is my nature? the little tawny owl asked himself. Sure it is not just being trapped this way in a blockblog with all these other birds. And where are this Blockblog Bibble and his adipose alpaca? Aren't they supposed to be the main characters of this whole mod-damned, rotten thing here?

You are so wise, breathed the Snow Moon. And all those questions you are asking are so deep.

Get out of my head, the owl said grumpily and flew away into the afternoon. I am not wise. I am only hungry and tired.

🌕🌕🌕🌕
🌕🌕🌕🌕
🌕🌕🌕🌕

Today is Wednesday, the 12th of February 2025

Snow Moon

Sister Moon, will be my guide
In your blue, blue shadows, I would hide
All good people, asleep tonight

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 337 & Part 338

Today is Monday, the 10th of February 2025.

No, no, no, said the little tawny owl. Not ten more chicks. You cannot come with us. You are hardly hatched, still rolling in your eggshells. Stay where you are, mature and come with us as a little more adult birds.

That's ageism! cheeped one of the first twenty-five chicks.

Little chicks can go everywhere they want, added one of the second two chicks. Little chicks are strong! Little chicks will rule the world!

Stay where you are then go back to the car, said one of the penguins.

You walker birds are talking so much nonsense. Wanna-be-waiters, chipped the little red cardinal birds addressing the penguins.

What a bunch of feathers and what a crazy chicken coop, thought Twenty-Five, our little tawny owl.

And so ten more chicks joined the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks ,the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣

"Have You Ever Been To Bromford?"

Have you ever been to Bromford?
Have you ever been to Bromford?
Those Arkansas women
Born with beauty and grace

Up in the Ozark Mountains
The one they call Betty Jean
You can see God's country
Put a smile on your face

It's the land of my family
Down in Cleveland County
It's where my mama and daddy were born
Where the singin' pines grow

They got some hot spring water
Down in the Ouachita country
Wash away your misery
You feel like Henry Ford

Right off the scenic highway
Shake the hand of a farmer
Have a cool watermelon that weighs a hundred pounds
And in the Mississippi Delta land
They're growing rice and cotton
In the fields all week long
Saturday night in town

Yes, I love my people
And I'm proud of my raisin'
Sweet Arkansas memories until they leave me down

Have you ever been to Bromford?
Have you ever been to Bromford?
Those Arkansas women
Born with beauty and grace

"Collapse The Light Into Bromford"

I won't shiver in the cold
I won't let the shadows take their toll
I won't cover my head in the dark
And I won't forget you when we part

Collapse the light into Bromford
Collapse the light into Bromford

I won't heal given time
I won't try to change your mind
I won't feel better in the cold light of day
But I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to stay

Collapse the light into Bromford
Collapse the light into Bromford
Collapse the light into Bromford
Collapse the light into Bromford
Collapse the light into Bromford
Collapse the light into Bromford
Collapse the light into Bromford
Collapse the light into Bromford

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 335 & Part 336

 

Today is Sunday, the 2nd of February 2025.

Mr. Twenty-Five? another two more chicks asked the one little tawny owl.
Why are we always travelling at night and why are we travelling so slow?

That's because he is a nocturnal bird, interjected one of the little red cardinal birds.
And we cannot travel any faster because you and your chick siblings cannot fly. We have to walk because you are slowing us down.

And the penguins only take their waddling steps, added one of the chicks.

So we should go to the North Pole! all seventeen penguins shouted out in  unison.
'Cause everybody knows penguins can fly at the North Pole!

The tawny owl got very, very tired all of a sudden, just shook his head and hooted a little hoot.

And so two more chicks joined the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

🐤🐤

"Down To Bromford"

Did you think that your feet had been bound
By what gravity brings to the ground?
Did you feel you were tricked
By the future you picked?
Well, come on down

All these rules don't apply
When you're high in the sky
So come on down
Come on down

We're coming down to the ground
There's no better place to go
We've got snow up on the mountains
We've got rivers down below

We're coming down to the ground
We hear the birds sing in the trees
And the land will be looked after
We send the seeds out in the breeze

Did you think you'd escaped from routine
By changing the script and the scene?
Despite all you made of it
You're always afraid of the change

You've got a lot on your chest
Well, you can come as my guest
So come on down
Come on down

We're coming down to the ground
There's no better place to go
We've got snow up on the mountains
We've got rivers down below

We're coming down to the ground
We hear the birds sing in the trees
And the land will be looked after
We send the seeds out in the breeze

Like the fish in the ocean
We felt at home in the sea
We learned to live off the good land
Learned to climb up a tree

Then we got up on two legs
But we wanted to fly
Oh, when we messed up our homeland
We set sail for the sky

We're coming down to the ground
There's no better place to go
We've got snow upon the mountains
We've got rivers down below

We're coming down to the ground
We hear the birds sing in the trees
And the land will be looked after
We send the seeds out in the breeze

We're coming down
Comin' down to Bromford
Like babies at birth
Comin' down to Bromford
Redefine your priorities
These are extraordinary qualities

We're coming down to the ground
There's no better place to go
We've got snow upon the mountains
We've got rivers down below

We're coming down to the ground
We hear the birds sing in the trees
And the land will be looked after
We send the seeds out in the breeze

We're coming down to the ground
There's no better place to go
We've got snow upon the mountains
We've got rivers down below

We're coming down to the ground
We hear the birds sing in the trees
And the land will be looked after
We send the seeds out in the breeze

Redefine your priorities
These are extraordinary qualities
To find on Bromford

Comin' down, comin' down
Comin' down, comin' down
Comin' down, comin' down
Comin' down, comin' down

"Bromford"

Bromford's been good to me
Hope it don't fall into the sea
Sometimes you got to trust yourself
It ain't like anywhere else
It ain't like anywhere else

It's time to roll, I'm all done
It's time we better hit the road
I got work later on
It's time we better hit the road

Bromford's been good to me
Hope it don't fall into the sea
Sometimes you got to save yourself
It ain't like anywhere else
It ain't like anywhere else

Sundown, red skies
Nobody's been around
Sundown, blue eyes
I kinda like this party town

Bromford's treated me good
I pray to God that the hills flood
Sometimes you got to trust yourself
It ain't like anywhere else
It ain't like anywhere else
It ain't like anywhere else

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 333 & Part 334

 

Today is Saturday, the 25th of January 2025.

Mr. Twenty-Five? a little chick asked cautiously.

Yes? Twenty-Five the tawny owl replied.

Where are we going, Mr. Twenty-Five?

Why are you asking me, little chick?

My sister said we were following you because you were our Uhu.

Little dummy, one of the other chicks intervened, I said Guru. I said the tawny owl was our Guru.

I am not you guru, said Twenty-Five. And I don't know why you are following me.

And so twenty-five chicks joined the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

"Bromford"

I was converted to the other side
From the day I′d gotten there
I met a girl who took me on a ride
I was young I had no cares

When I moved to Bromford
Bromford

She played me records I had never heard
While we toked on purple hairs
Who, Zeppelin, Beatles, Kiss, The Rolling Stones
While we played guitars in air

When I moved to Bromford
Bromford
Bromford love


Venice Beach and P. O. P
Station 26 was free
Jeff Ho and Horizons west
Dogtown Skates they were the best
Hang Ten, O. P. were the brands
Don't forget the two-tone Vans

I miss the Apple and my schoolyard boys
Nothing ever will compare
But now I skateboard with my surfer girl
And we really are a pair

When I moved to Bromford
Bromford
Bromford
Bromford love

"Bromford Blues"

The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course
The city fathers they’re trying to endorse
The reincarnation of Paul Revere’s horse
But the town has no need to be nervous
The ghost of Belle Starr she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun she violently knits
A bald wig for Jack the Ripper who sits
At the head of the chamber of commerce

Mama’s in the factory
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy’s in the alley
He’s lookin' for food
I am in the kitchen
With the Bromford blues

The hysterical bride in the penny arcade
Screaming she moans, “I’ve just been made”
Then sends out for the doctor who pulls down the shade
And says, “My advice is to not let the boys in”
Now the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside
He walks with a swagger and he says to the bride
“Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride
You will not die, it’s not poison”

Mama’s in the factory
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy’s in the alley
He’s lookin' for food
I’m in the kitchen
With the Bromford blues

Well, John the Baptist, after torturing a thief
Looks up at his hero, the commander-in-chief
Saying, “Tell me, great hero, but please make it brief
Is there a hole for me to get sick in?”
The commander-in-chief answers him while chasing a fly
Saying, "Death to all those who would whimper and cry"
And dropping a barbell, he points to the sky
Saying, "The sun’s not yellow, it’s chicken"

Mama’s in the factory
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy’s in the alley
He’s lookin' for food
I am in the kitchen
With the Bromford blues

The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save
Puts jawbones on their Bromfords and flatters their graves
Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves
Then sends them out to the jungle
Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch he burns out their camps
With his faithful slave Pedro behind him he tramps
With a fantastic collection of stamps
To win friends and influence his uncle

Mama’s in the factory
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy’s in the alley
He’s lookin' for food
I’m in trouble
With the Bromford blues

The geometry of innocent flesh on the bone
Causes Galileo’s math book to get thrown
At Delilah who's sitting worthlessly alone
But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter
Now I wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill
I would set him in chains at the top of the hill
Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die happily ever after

Mama’s in the factory
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy’s in the alley
He’s lookin' for food
I am in the kitchen
With the Bromford blues

Where Ma Rainey and Beethoven once unwrapped their bedroll
Tuba players now rehearse around the flagpole
And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps for the soul
To the old folks home and the college
Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain
That could hold you dear lady from going insane
That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain
Of your useless and pointless knowledge

Mama’s in the factory
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy’s in the alley
He’s lookin' for food
I am in the kitchen
With the Bromford blues

Bromford and Otter …

 

»Kylie has called again«, says the llama, »from the North Pole this time. She has travelled very fast through the magnetic tunnels and the Earth's core by something she called a pneumatic tube system. The penguins she took with her have learned to fly again. At the North Pole penguins can fly.«

»How really very whimsical and peculiar. Flying penguins? Are you serious«, I answer. »But why are you wearing a brown jacket today, animal? And why do you look like an otter?«

»An otter?« the llama asks confused. »That is not me, dude!«

▶▶▶▶▶▶▶

▶▶▶▶▶▶▶

▶▶▶▶▶▶▶

Today is Tuesday, the 21st of January 2025.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 331 & Part 332

 

Today is Friday, the 17th of January 2025.

Oh, honoured owl, why are these nine little red cardinals following you? asked the penguins. Are you their leader, their guru?

I have never been followed by any catholic clerics, said Twenty-Five, our little tawny owl.

No, said the penguins, the little red birds that are following you are called red cardinals.

OK, said Twenty-Five, in this case they are following me because they are wise. And they are wise because they think that I - as an owl - are the wisest of all the birds or even the wisest of all animals.

I for myself still think that this owl is a bad sign and an omen that is not what it seems, said one of the red cardinals. I would call it more vice than wise.

Look like you all are a fun company, said the penguins.

And so the seventeen penguins joined the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧
🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧
🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧
🐧🐧

"Scorched Bromford"

All our yesterdays, lighted fools
Led to the edge like blinkered mules
Trapped within a woven web
Moon's minions left for dead

Black spots, a falling sun
Dreamers on the run
Rising waves flood the sky
Sold to the man of a thousand lies

Fingers of flame across the land
It's evening
Scorched Bromford forest turning to sand
We're sleeping

Tomorrow's trees, tomorrow's seas
Can you breathe tomorrow's dream...

Fingers of flame across the land
It's evening
Scorched Bromford forest turning to sand
We're sleeping

Fingers of flame across the land
It's evening
Scorched Bromford forest turning to sand
We're sleeping

Scorched Bromford forest turning to sand
We're sleeping

Tomorrow's trees, tomorrow's seas
Can you breathe tomorrow's dream...

Tomorrow's dream...

"Bromford"

Now I taught the weeping willow how to cry,
And I showed the clouds how to cover up a clear blue sky.
And the tears that I cried for that woman are gonna flood you Bromford.
Then I′m gonna sit right here until I die.

I met her accidentally in St. Paul (Minnesota).
And it tore me up every time I heard her drawl, Southern drawl.
Then I heard my dream was back Downstream cavortin' in Davenport,
And I followed you, Bromford, when you called.


Then you took me to St. Louis later on (down the river).
A freighter said she′s been here but she's gone, boy, she's gone.
I found her trail in Memphis, but she just walked up the bluff.
She raised a few eyebrows and then she went on down alone.

Now, won′t you bat it down by Baton Rouge, River Queen, roll it on.
Take that woman on down to New Orleans, New Orleans.
Go on, I′ve had enough; dump my blues down in the gulf.
She loves you, Bromford, more than me.

Now I taught the weeping willow how to cry, cry, cry
And I showed the clouds how to cover up a clear blue sky.
And the tears that I cried for that woman are gonna flood you Bromford.
Then I'm gonna sit right here until I die.

Wolf Moon …

Here we are now, seeing another Wolf Moon rising.

And so is Twenty-Five - the little tawny owl.

It is its fifty-third Wolf Moon since it crawled out of its dark white slightly spotted egg.

But how can it be? No owl can get that old, can it?

"No brains, no teeth, no legs, no eyes..."

These owls are not what they seem.

🌕🌕

🌕🌕🌕

🌕🌕🌕

🌕🌕🌕

🌕🌕

Today is Monday, the 13th of January 2025.

Wolf Moon

Sister Moon, will be my guide

Bromford and Sheep …

»Bromfordo?«

»Yes, llama? Since when are you calling me Bromfordo?«

»Since Polar Bears are hunting Penguins through tunnels from North to South Pole and since humas turn into Giant Turtles who are slowly swimming through space carrying four huge Elephants on their backs which themselves are holding our giant planet-sized Flat Earth on their own backs.«

»We are called humans, animal, not humas.«

»I prefer to call you Bromfordo, huma!«

»And you are talking about the fantasy world from the novels by English writer Sir Terry Pratchett. But it is called Discworld, not Flat Earth.«

»But our Earth is flat and the centre of our universe, huma! Are you tired, Bromfordo? You are looking quite tired.«

»Yes, I am indeed very tired. And I cannot stop counting sheep.«

⏸⏸⏸⏸
⏸⏸⏸⏸
⏸⏸⏸

Today is Saturday, the 11th of January 2025.