We have another frost this morning, a bit more widespread than Friday's. The bird bath has a skim coat of ice. As I lit the stove, I wondered when it was that we had to start buying book matches. Long after we quit smoking, we could still find free matches in hotels and restaurants. We still have a book from Old Ebbitt Grill in Washington DC, where we met after my mother's funeral at Arlington National Cemetery. The wood, strike-anywhere matches, of course, are more fun. You can light them on your teeth (although hazardous if you have a droopy mustache), on your belt buckle, on the back of your pant leg (denim is best), and just about any coarse surface where you're sure to leave a mark.
I couldn't remember the Finnish word for matches and tried a couple of online dictionaries:
On the next site, I found a term, tulitikkulaatikko, which means a box of matches. The home page of this site shows a list of popular searches.
English-speakers are looking for Finnish equivalents of "i love you" and such.
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Meanwhile, the Finns are looking for the English words for VoIP, booze, marry (or more colloquial descriptions of marital activities), and Happy Easter (!?). |
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Marley's unsettled by the gunshots from the hunters in a nearby pond. They're hunting geese, I suspect. Last week's police log had another report of gunshots in the area. It turned out that a farmer in the neighborhood was putting down some of the farm animals.
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