воскресенье, 05 октября 2008
WOW what a wonderful day it was!
Cycled to the supermarket "Karusel", forgot their discount card. Bought sea kale, two Activia Danon cottage cheese and croissants with cheese. On the way home dropped in bakery and bought two buns with cottage cheese and a errrrr (in MacDonald it's called a muffin) a cake.
At home made a cup of instant coffee with TWO teaspoons of sugar and ATE buns, a muffin, and three croissants! It's called gluttony! Tomorrow I'll be complaining about my weight. Suppose it's going to be 67 kg.
It will be tomorrow when I step on scales but today it's sooo good! Life is a good thing indeed!
The weather was so nice that I decided to cycle in the forest, to work out eaten food lol.
It was something! I was full and I was strong, it felt soo good! It tried to rain, but for my luck it only were several drops of rain on my glasses, then it stopped.
Autumn brightened trees in yellow. Paths were soft and beautiful with fallen leaves, fresh air... I didn't want to turn home. I cycled in cicles through the forest and every time as I passed a sportground (somebody made several horizontal bars and nailed a thick enough branch between trees about knee high to make push-ups ( that's what I was doing) I exercised a bit. Of course it is easier to do push-ups using a branch instead of ground. But for my weak arms that was a good work out anyway. When I got home and was washing my hands my arms felt like in weightlessness. Muscles got a good load!
I love nature, sport and English. Who will doubt?
the story continues
“Who’s dat?” The black man, ready to strike with his shovel, whirled around. “Why’s you sneakin’ ‘round here?”
“I’m your helper.” Sven’s quick wit helped again. “It’s mealtime, Mister… I forgot your name.”
“Jefferson,” the man answered as he stared at Sven. “You’s small fer coal shovelin’ ain’t you, Boy? Da Cap’n say he’d find ‘nother man.”
Sven ignored the question. “Dinner time, Mister Jefferson. I’ll shovel while you eat.”
“You calls me Jefferson. Ever’body do. What’s yo’ name?”
“Sven.”
“All right, skinny Sven, you’s shovelin’ en I’s eatin’.” Jefferson chuckled to himself and muttered, “Skinny Sven, skinny Sven.”
“Bring me back some biscuits,” Sven called after him. “Maybe I’ll become fatter.”
---
Sven’s arms and back ached before Jefferson returned and looked into the furnace.
“You’s doin’ good, skinny Sven. Eat.” He held out his bulging red kerchief.
Sven’s eyes widened as he opened the bundle. “Thank you, Jefferson.”
In addition to three biscuits, the kerchief held a baked potato and two slabs of ham. He ate greedily.
“I’s dinkin’dat da cap’n not send you,” Jefferson said and grinned. “You’s stow’way.”
Sven nodded. He had to stop telling lies.
Jefferson grinned. “I’s dinkin’ so. You helps me en I helps you. I’s not tellin’ ‘bout stow’way. I’uz goin’ t’ask ‘bout you when da cap’n say he’s not hire ‘nother shoveler en ken I do da work alone? I says ‘yus, Sur,’ ‘cuse I knows you’s here. You’s ta shovel hard when da cap’n ring da signal bell. Dree bell mean you shovel mo’ coal; two bell mean stop; fo’ bell mean bank da fire. Ken you duz dat?”
“I can, Jefferson.” Sven grinned back. He had a place to hide until they reached Skagway. “Thanks for not telling.”
“Dat’s good,” Jefferson said. “Now I’s helpin’ you hide. Take off yo’ shirt.” He scraped up handsful of coal dust and smeared them over Sven’s body and face and into his blond hair.
“Dere, skinny Sven, you’s lookin’ like black man coal shoveler. I’s callin’ you skinny Sam.” Jefferson chuckled and Sven laughed. Even his mother would not recognize him.
As the Valencia steamed north, Sven hid in the coal pile when anyone approached the furnace room. For a few minutes each night he sneaked on deck to breathe fresh ocean air. From the rail he stared at the shadowy wooded shoreline and snowcapped mountains and imagined how beautiful it might look in bright sunlight.
He never lingered. Jefferson waited for his turn on deck.
---
“We’s getting’ ta Haines tomorrow,” Jefferson said on their fifth night out from Seattle. “Ken you keeps a secret, Sam?”
“Sure,” Sven replied.
“I’s jumpin’ ship in Haines en goin’ ta Dawson ta find gold. Duz you wants ta go?”
“I want to get to Circle City to find my father,” Sven said. “I thought we were going to Skagway.”
“We’s not goin’ to Skagway. Ship’s goin’ to Valdez. I’s getting’ off in Haines en findin’ ‘nother way ta Skagway.”
“I’ll go.”
“Dat’s good, Sam. We’s needin’ supplies. I’uz getting’ mine back ever’ night. T’night you’s getting’ some.”
“How? Where?”
“You takes. Dere’s supplies on deck. Men’s sleepin’. We’s needin’ pots en fry pan. T’night you takes.” Jefferson grinned.
“That’s stealing.” Sven’s parents had taught him never to steal.
“Dat’s so, but I has ta. Dree men beats me in Seattle en steals my supplies. Dat’s when I’s takin’ job as fireman. I’s takin’ back ‘nough ta gets ta Dawson, dat’s all.”
“I’ll try.” Sven agreed because Jefferson was helping him. “I never stole anything before.”
On deck he glanced fearfully in every direction as he crept toward a stack of supplies. As he reached under a tarpaulin, a boot kicked him in the side. “Get away, nigger boy, or you’ll get a knife in your back. We know your black daddy’s been stealing. Tonight he’ll jump overboard.” The man laughed cruelly.
Sven stumbled toward the gangway but stopped. Two men, one tall and slender, the other shorter and heavier, leaned against a stack of boxes and looked out over the water. Sven recognized the tall man as Lt. Castner. He ducked into the shadows and listened.
“Lieutenant,” the stocky man said, “we will be loading fifty reindeer when we are in Haines. They were shipped from Norway for our use as pack animals as we build a trail to the Yukon River. Our country’s leaders don’t believe Americans traveling to the gold fields should need to go through Canada. In the morning I want you to help me make arrangements to load the reindeer.”
“Yes, Sir, Captain Glenn. Orders are orders, and I am determined to reach Circle City. I will be ready.”
Circle City, that’s where I am going, Sven thought as he crawled to the gangway and backed down the ladder.
“You’s back fast. Wat you gets?” Jefferson asked as Sven entered the furnace room.
“A kick in the ribs. They’re waiting for you, Jefferson. They know you’ve been stealing and plan to throw you overboard. Don’t go.”
“You’s not ta be worryin’, skinny Sam.” Jefferson grinned and pulled a big knife from his boot top. “I’s takin’ care.”
Sven shoveled coal and prayed as he waited for Jefferson to return.
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14.10.2008 в 02:55You are the one who got me into the Diary,
but you aren't coming into MY Diary. Why
not ? It only takes a minute to open it up &
maybe a couple of mins to put in a comment.
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18.10.2008 в 15:38Do you EVER visit here anymore. & you VERY
rarely visit My Diary. you who got me into it in
the first place !!! Should I just drop it ? Since
you RARELY visit MY DIARY. You got me into
it,then why don't you visit MY DIARY !!!!!
I was TRYING to be patient for the longest,
but if you are not going to visit MY DIARY,
then why should I keep it. I visit this Diary
OFTEN,but I visit mine first,in hopes that
you had visited mine & left a message,but more
often than not,I am let down.