#frysian

[muspelheim71]

Phallic figurines in the Fries Museum, The Netherlands. The sign reads: “Are these two-eyed phallic figurines meant to promote fertility as a fertility symbol? Or are they simply decorative earthenware dolls? We don't know for sure. They were probably imported from present-day Germany, where many workshops made these kinds of dolls.

1250-1500, found in Hantumhuizen, pottery Fries Museum, Leeuwarden | collection of the Royal Frisian Society”

[astarfruity]

Frysian Hatsune Miku <3 Based on this artwork!

[mistress-light]

Went out to dinner with my parents. I love spending time with them x3

[smoqueen]

dima u r so pretty (and good at tekken) love feom the north frysian isles

lets chill bambino

[soapdispensersalesman]

MC ÁGUIA PANTERA is such a sick artist name as it both sounds like the Frysian way of saying Good day "Agoeie" as well as eagle

[lionessfeather]

More musings on Dutch/Low Countries breeds

So in this post I mused about Dutch history, strategy, and dragon breeds. I had some more thoughts about them, so here we go:

Fryske Grutskens have some aquatic adaptations. They are squarely in the middleweight category, and they are white and blue, with red splotches. Splotches in the shape of pompeblêden are especially prized (like the Frysian flag)

Brabants Blauwtje are on the big side for a middleweight, and often straddle the line between middle and heavy (18 tons), despite "blauwtje" implying they are small blue dragons. Their colour varies along pretty much all shades of blue, though the darker blues are prized highly.

Zwarte van Gelre actually tend to be charcoal grey at best, rather than black. A fairly standard middleweight.

The Flemish heavyweight has two names. It has an official French name, bestowed on it by the Counts of Flanders, and everyone else uses a much more plain Flemish name.

There is also a lightweight Flemish breed, which definitely only has a Flemish name. Specifically, Rode Duivels.

Hollands Glorie is the coastal breed favoured by the County of Holland. Again, it has some aquatic adaptations (don't ask me what), and is raised to eat a lot of fish. These are the most commonly seen by most people. They aren't more common, but most of the trade is concentrated in Holland (and Flanders), so these are the dragons most commonly used by traders. Probably on the light-to-medium weight range for middleweights. The smaller among them can probably be taken along on a ship that is not a dragon transport, though only barely.

The poor soils in the north-east of the country are enriched with dragon manure instead of purely sheep manure, but they are still fairly poor. I think they likely wouldn't be able to feed more than a lightweight (a very belligerent one though). They are purple, like heather, and they can sort of hover, thanks to the boggy lands they evolved in.

Utrecht, a prince-bishopric, has a brightly coloured breed. Purplish red, for the church. Likely some Italian influences, since the pope would probably have a representative there.

[juniperwoodwell]

Final Farewell.

This is a story about a lost, unrequited love. The people in the story are real but the names are not. The love was real, for the girl at least.

It's exactly 739 words. No warnings needed, perhaps tissues if you cry easily.

This is my goodbye to someone I loved. Enjoy.

Three months. Ninety days. Two thousand two hundred eight hours. Am I counting? No, of course not. I googled it. But looking at it—the time feels so small, and the memories feel like years of worth. The big question: do I miss you? Yes, some days when I think of your smile or see a dog that reminds me of the one you looked after (Kodi). Other times I subconsciously pretend you never even existed. It hurts less that way, and I don't have to face the cruel, cold reality that I will never—writing it is even too cruel.

Frysian, to the one I first loved and loved first. Had I known that our story would have ended so abruptly, I might have decided to end it before it began, but I'm not bitter at how it did. I'm not bitter at all, which is surprising if you know me. And you did, very well indeed. You made a promise to me that you would always be with me, but like everyone else, you're gone too. I'm not surprised by this; I expected it from day one, yet I foolishly believed you. Again, not bitter.

Those numbers before were how long I knew you. The next ones are for how long I've missed you.

Ten months. Three hundred thirty days. Seven thousand nine hundred six hours. Again, am I counting? No, of course not. It was foolish of me to have fallen in love with you, but I was young and wounded from a past not yet forgotten. I needed someone to lean on, and you lent me your shoulder. Perhaps it was a honeymoon phase type of love I had for you, but would the loss affect me as much if it were true?

Had—that is false, of course it is. If I wasn't still loving you, I wouldn't be here writing this. I don't know if I could categorize the love I have; it's less romantic than I'd expected. Maybe it started there but has evolved into something more melancholic—a deep yearning to embrace you often clouds my mind whenever I think of you.

I don't know your reasons for leaving—or better put, disappearing. I pray to all that is Holy that you are still alive. Knowledge of that would bring me final peace. You taught me how to grieve; now I'm grieving you. Our memories seem so fresh in my mind, and I feel nauseous. Why did you leave me? Was it intentional, or perhaps the cruel fate of life?

I'm running out of ways to say I miss you, and I'm running out of words to describe it too. So many lessons you taught me on learning to let go and move on, but as I sit here, I'm realizing that I don't want to listen to your advice this time. I don't want to let go. You were too good. I think I would have spent my life with you, even if it was just talking.

Perhaps I put you too high on a pedestal without knowing you were afraid of heights. Or maybe I was too young to have loved someone so deeply that it scared you away? Was it my fault you left?

So many questions without answers; that is what I would be bitter about—but the best description of how I feel when I think of my time with you derives from the Portuguese word "Saudade" is an emotional state of melancholic or profoundly nostalgic longing for a beloved yet absent something or someone. It is often associated with a repressed understanding that one might never encounter the object of longing ever again. (Wikipedia).

Doesn't that really hit the nail on the head? I think so.

You were mine for such a short time, but what a great time it was. Now it's time for me to say goodbye and allow all the questions to go unanswered—allow this piece of me to find its place in the depths of my heart and reside there for the rest of my days. First love, I hope you will find your Forever and Final love one day; I wish you only the best on this adventure we call life, and I pray you find peace in the next. [We're the beginning of the end. I'll see you again, my loved one.]

Yours most sincerely, Eneth.

[greencproductions]

Traditional Frysian style farm in the Northern part of the Netherlands

[magicisrealandsoismyblog]

I am Dutch and while I believe it's not as common here as in slav countries, I often have people talk to me in English, French, German, Afrikaans, Frysian etc. and I reply in a mix of Dutch and English and it's beautiful. One of my friends insists on speaking Dutch sign language to me, because we once took a class together. She continued and I didn't, meaning that I now usually have no idea what she's saying😂

Us, arriving to Austria to a tiny family hotel owned by an elderly lady

Us: speak only limited German

Lady: barely speaks English

Us:

Lady:

Lady: Czech? Slovak?

Us: Czech

Lady, to herself: Czech, that's a Slavic language right

Lady: understand Yugoslavian?

Us:

Us: yeah that works

[muspelheim71]

I certainly picked the wettest day this summer to visit the Upstalsboom (Old Frisian: Upstallesbâm), Zur Thingstätte. I’ve never seen this much rain!

This is the old 'thing place' near Aurich in East Frisia, Germany. During the time of the Frisian Freedom (the absence of feudalism and serfdom in Frisia), the Upstalsboom was the meeting place of envoys from all Frisian areas.

The thing place was situated on a natural elevation in the landscape. At this place there is a burial mound from the early Middle Ages. There used to be some oaks or oak stumps on top of the burial mound.

In 1833, in memory of the historical significance of the Upstalsboom, a pyramid was built on top of the mound and a park was laid out.

[ftnbooks-blog]

Corrie de Boer (1932)

Corrie de Boer (1932)

Corrie de Boer She is not the most wellknown artist in the Netehrlands, but her work still fascinates me. At one time she started with Albert Waalkens a gallery in the Frysian town of Finsterwolde. The NRC called it the Small Pompidou, but it was also a venue in which she presented her art. A kind of minimal art and many times executed in textile. The catalogue which is now on offer is on her…

[veiligplekje]

Beppetaart

TAART UIT DE KOELKAST

Als je jarig bent in de zomer, ken je het ‘probleem’. Je wilt wel graag zelf een lekkere taart maken, maar op een warme dag zet je liever de oven niet aan. Dit recept is de oplossing: hij is te maken met koelkast, maar zonder oven. Kijk voor meer taarten uit de koelkast in Landleven juni 2022.

DIT HEB JE NODIG:

1 l melk

65 g custardpoeder

65 g suiker

1 rol beschuit

1 pak theebiscuitjes

½ tot ¾ pot aardbeienjam

ZO GA JE TE WERK:

Breng de melk tegen de kook aan in een pannetje.

Roer het custardpoeder met de suiker in een kom.

Voeg een flinke scheut hete melk toe en roer goed door met een garde.

Voeg dit mengsel toe aan de pan met hete melk en laat enkele minuten zachtjes doorkoken terwijl je goed blijft roeren.

Haal van het vuur en laat iets afkoelen.

Bedek de bodem van een springvorm met beschuiten; vul ook alle hoekjes en gaatjes goed op met stukjes beschuit.

Verdeel de helft van de custard over de beschuiten en strijk mooi glad.

Leg hier een laag biscuitjes op.

Verdeel de rest van de custard erover, strijk mooi glad en bedek met weer een laag biscuitjes.

Verwarm de jam in een pannetje en strijk over de taart.

Laat de taart een nacht opstijven in de koelkast en serveer de volgende dag met geklopte slagroom.

[monsterouscookie]

It's a crime you didn't include marshmallows or whipped cream, or even better: a combination of marshmallows and whipped cream

Also the most amazing type of "cookie" to eat with hot cocoa is Frysian Sûkerlatte, you gotta dip it in and it is just amazing

[tobidimare]

Pretty hype: A movie that tells about the Legend of Redbad and the Frysian resistance against the violent and forced convertance to Christianity.

[hennekeandreae]

 Muscian and artist Tristan Visser went to Greenland to make music and experiment with sound under water in the hope to communicate with whales and do research in sound pollution.

[ginnyvos]

Are there still people alive who remember it being their primary language when they were young almost 100 years ago? Or are they fully past that sad stage where the true use of the language is dying? How long ago is that? Are there people trying to revitalise it or is it just accepted as a part of the history and culture, passed down as tradition demands but no longer functional at all?

I'll bet the Shivadh kids in institut Alpin had a ton of fun using it as their secret language! (In the Netherlands 4 languages in the norm btw: Dutch and English are required and nearly everyone takes German and French but you can switch those out for a language of your choice if you can work out lessons and examination with your school)

It makes me think of other dying/declining languages I know of in Europe and how people and governments deal with those. Frysian in the Netherlands, Basque, Catalanen and Galician in Spain, Nynorsk in Norway. There are a bunch more. Each has a unique perspective on the world and a unique culture attached, as well as a sense of cultural identity and ownership. Fascinating stuff.

Hi! In Royals & Ramblers (or maybe in one of the google doc comments), there's a mention that people don't really speak Shivadh anymore. Are there any language revitalization projects going on?

Oh, fun question! Not in the sense of there being like, a nonprofit or government agency working to preserve it, the way a lot of colonized languages have -- the Shivadh approach is pretty casual overall. The language is taught in school, up to a certain age (I haven't determined that), and there are undoubtedly classes for enthusiasts, and one or two academics who specialize in it.

In Twelve Points it's mentioned that there's a Shivadh language dictionary in the national resources app, and in an upcoming book there's some reference to it in terms of the protagonist searching his rusty grade-school lessons for a specific word.

It's generally implied that while most Shivadh know a few words or have some fluency from school, the only people really fluent in it tend to be the children of the peerage whose parents want them to have extra tutelage in it. Jerry, for example, had English plus basic Italian, French, and Shivadh before he was sent to Institut Alpin; continuing in French and English was requisite, as was a third language, and they encouraged the continuing study of a student's native language as well, so until he was probably 18 or so he had Shivadh as his independent-study fourth language. Lest you guys think this is overly intense, Institute Le Rosey, on which Institut Alpin is heavily based, has this exact policy (English and French requisite, third language required, fourth language after a certain grade level strongly encouraged).

In one of the upcoming books, I'm planning to introduce the Royal Shivadh University, a new school that was basically Michaelis's last passion project before retirement; they'll undoubtedly have a Shivadh language department, which probably spends most of its time doing outreach to grade schoolers to try and get them to keep up the language. :D