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Ester's notepad

@esters-notepad

I am: Christian. European. Wife. Mother. Thinker. Musician. Writer. And a few more things as well. My current project is to translate one classic Swedish poem per week into English, and maybe publish an anthology next year. We'll see if I can keep it up!
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Dear followers, mutuals and other tumblerinas!

I have decided to take a break from tumblr. You're all wonderful people and I quite like it here, but there are too many things I'd like to do more of in the real world: knitting, reading, play music, translating, read the Bible and pray... and I spend much too much time scrolling each day. Thus, a break.

I'll probably be back around Easter - it's the traditional point to stop abstaining from things, after all.

I love you all and you're very welcome to contact me on discord or e-mail.

Love and peace!

Ester

#personal
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Reblogged
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As an American I WOULD refer to all those foods as sandwiches. Like how helicopters are planes.

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Helicopters aren't planes! They're aircraft! Planes and helicopters are two different, non-overlapping subtypes of aircraft.

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Nah they're planes

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They're not flat in any dimension. If anything, they're balls. Funny little air-balls with a very distinctive sund.

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Reblogged
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As an American I WOULD refer to all those foods as sandwiches. Like how helicopters are planes.

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Helicopters aren't planes! They're aircraft! Planes and helicopters are two different, non-overlapping subtypes of aircraft.

#linguistics
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Reblogged
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it is very crazy to me when I'm at work and someone is dying and like. everyone will be so rough with the patient and then get a bad attitude about the work. and it's like bro...do you not feel the presence of death in the room with us. do you not feel it floating above the bed. does this not make you feel an ancient feeling in your bones placed in you from birth that only a savior can kill

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how can you not be gentle when you are going to be one of the last people this person will see on earth. don't you feel unworthy bro

#yes yes yes
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Reblogged jurakan
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On one hand, it's great to see people learn how to unfuck their living spaces. On the other hand, that stuff like "frequently used articles should be stored near where they're used" and "trash receptacles should be placed near activities that generate trash" are being received as radical ideas points to a serious knowledge transmission problem.

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Some people's parents get Really Weird about trash cans and practical items being where they can be seen, is part of the problem here

Source: currently a janitor at a church and you would not believe how many boomers get upset with me for insisting the trash cans need to be practical and easy to use instead of out of sight and too cute for functionality

including in the actual bathrooms

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actually no sorry there's a list here

things people have told me are "tacky" and that I need to get rid of (they have lost many of these arguments because I'm a bitch, others are ongoing)

an umbrella stand by the door with spare umbrellas for parishioners to use

a table by the front door "because people keep putting things on it" (that was. Why that table was there)

the signs that directed people towards the bathrooms

the actual trash can in the bathroom "because surely we don't need one so big" (for the bathroom that services the fellowship hall, which hosts things like the local scout events, so yes we need one that's at least 20 gallon)

apparently it's also tacky if I write down when I changed things like batteries and air fresheners, on a calendar they'll never see unless they go into my office??

another table in another waystation type area because "people keep putting things on it" (even when it's completely clear)

signs we are legally required to post

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What the fuck is wrong with people

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#people are people#people are weird
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Reblogged apilgrimpassingby
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perfectedimperfectionn

The person I reblogged this from deserves to be happy

I tried to scroll past this. I really did

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Finally, Christ will return some day to resurrect all the dead, putting an end to death; based on their repentance, and hence their closeness to God, people will spend eternity in Heaven, the presence of God experienced as joyful, or Hell, the presence of God experienced as painful. For now, the dead are in Paradise or Hades, since without their bodies they cannot fully experience God (humans are necessarily embodied beings); upon the Resurrection, the dead will from there enter into Heaven or Hell.

-tumblr user @apilgrimpassingby

(There's a lot more in the original post, and it's all good, but I thought this passage was particularly thought-provoking. )

#christianity#something to ponder
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WHO AM I?

Who am I? They say to me that I walk out of my cell confident, cheerful and calm, like a lord out of his manor.

Who am I? They say to me that I talk to my wardens forthrightly, friendly and free like I were the one in control.

Who am I? They also say that I bear my misfortune stately, smiling, serene, like one accustomed to winning.

Am I then really he, whom the others describe? Or am I only the one that I know of myself? Uneasy, longing, sick, like a bird in a cage, fighting for breath and life, as if somebody choked me, starving for colour, for flowers, for singing birds, thirsty for friendly words, for some human company, trembling with rage at unfairness and petty insults, drifting around with the waiting for great things, helplessly worried for friends who are too far away, too tired and empty to pray or to think or to make things, exhausted and ready to leave this world and this life?

Who am I? The one or the other? Am I then one today and tomorrow another? Or am I both? A pretender when others see me, but when alone a despicable, whiny weakling? Or is the remains of my soul like a beaten army, retreating in disarray and fleeing the victor?

Who am I? This lonely question keeps mocking me. Thou knowst whoever I am, o Lord, I belong to thee!

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer (translated by me)

#poetry translation#dietrich bonhoeffer#if you don't know who that was then look it up#this poem was written in prison#military prison Berlin-Tegel 1944 to be exact#i hesitate to put it in the tags but whatever#bonhoeffer was an actual objector to the actual nazi regime in germany#now please don't go and draw parallels to modern politics#hitler is vanquished; let's not dig him up
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WER BIN ICH?

Wer bin ich? Sie sagen mir oft, ich trete aus meiner Zelle gelassen und heiter und fest wie ein Gutsherr aus seinem Schloss.

Wer bin ich? Sie sagen mir oft ich spräche mit meinen Bewachern frei und freundlich und klar als hätte ich zu gebieten.

Wer bin ich? Sie sagen mir auch, ich trüge die Tage des Unglücks gleichmutig, lächelnd und stolz wie einer, der siegen gewohnt ist.

Bin ich das wirklich, was andere von mir sagen? Oder bin ich nur das, was ich selbst von mir weiß? Unruhig, sehnsüchtig, krank, wie ein Vogel im Käfig, ringend nach Lebensatem, als würgte mir einer die Kehle, hungernd nach Farben, nach Blumen, nach Vogelstimmen, dürstend nach guten Worten, nach menschlicher Nähe, zitternd vor Zorn über Willkür und kleinlichtste Kränkung, umgetrieben vom Warten auf große Dinge, ohnmächtig bangend um Freunde in endloser Ferne, müde und leer zum Beten, zum Denken, zum Schaffen, matt und bereit, von allem Abschied zu nehmen?

Wer bin ich? Der oder jener? Bin ich denn heuter dieser und morgen ein andrer? Bin ich beides zugleich? Vor Menschen ein Heuchler und vor mir selbst ein verächtlich wehleidiger Schwächling? Oder gleicht, was in mir noch ist, dem geschlagenen Heer, das in Unordnung weicht vor schon gewonnenem Sieg?

Wer bin ich? Ensames Fragen treibt mit mir Spott. Wer ich auch bin, du kennst mich, dein bin ich, o Gott!

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer

#dietrich bonhoeffer#poetry#german
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