The idea behind A Halloween Game 13 Questions & Answers is to have some fun. 🙂
First read each question and attempt to answer it, then, too see the answer:
* scroll with your mouse over the image – if you view from a PC ** select the image (tap and hold to select) – if you view from a mobile device.
1. What is the name of the Celtic harvest festival that many people believe Halloween is based on?
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2. What fruit would you go for, bobbing at Halloween?
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3. Count Dracula is based on a real person. What was his name?
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4. Where is Transylvania located?
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5. What was Bram Stoker’s original name for Dracula?
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6. What is a group of witches called?
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7. In which town of medieval Transylvania were witches executed?
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8. What is the day after Halloween called?
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9. Which countries traditionally celebrate The Day of the Dead instead of Halloween?
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10. What do we call the fear of, or the Halloween phobia?
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11. What does the word “Hallow” means in old English?
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12. Why did Victorians put bells above the graves, attached to a string that reached inside the coffin?
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13. What do you call a ghost that moves objects around the house?
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I hope you found A Halloween Game 13 Questions & Answers fun! What about you? Do you know any Hallowe’en questions for me? Write them in comments below and I’ll answer to the best of my knowledge 🙂
Christmas Haiku
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We need poets and poetry more than any time before, today when we are faced with a worldwide pandemic because poets have more heart in their hearts and more life in their poems than these are pandemic statistics released daily.
We need poets and poetry to help us escape from the present, apparate ourselves to a time where all is well with the world and amour’s heartbreak or the familiar in nature are enough to fill our daily thoughts.
Poetry, much like a warrior in disguise, is a shot of strength and optimism hidden under a shabby, fragile clothing.
In a time when the focus is on the outer world, poetry stirs emotions within ourselves, shifting our focus inward, even for a brief time; releasing emotions, tensions, and fears.
In a world focused on living inside walls, poetry brings back images of nature, this millennial reminder that, no matter what, life survives, life goes on, life is beautiful.
Poets, Poetry and a Pandemic
During a time when life seems to stand still, yet hours do stretch beyond the norm, leaving us out of tune with the passing of the day or of the week, poetry is the portal we can use to escape the cabin fever, the lockdown pressure, the endless thoughts and questions swimming in circles through our mind.
During times when life focuses on harsh reality, on stark colors, poetry is a lyrical rainbow. Like any color, perceived as a different shade by each individual, poetry leaves space to interpretation, something we do crave during times of pandemic, when scientists seem to be having it black on white. Death seems so technical these days, so sterile. Poetry is the colorful glass we can look through to connect with the world on an emotional level again.
Poetry ~ and books ~ are the only needed luxury during a pandemic.
I write with the hope that readers, while looking for a captivating and interesting read, a way to unwind and pass the time, will also find a novel that addresses their mind and their humanity, a book that speaks to their heart.
I write for the joy of it, but also for bringing into the light less know contemporary and historical characters. I write in an attempt to connect past and present, the readers of my books with the lesser known, yet equally mystifying and significant, aspects of our history.
What I hope readers will take from y books, by Patricia Furstenberg
We naturally seek the stories of those who lived before us, of those who went through incredible experiences, of those who loved and lost, who followed their dreams and paid dearly for it; people who have already been there, done that. It’s a natural human impulse. Go with it.
What I hope my readers will discover in my books
Realistic, relatable characters and that they will want to know what happens to them, rather than just following the plot.
Heartwarming relationships.
A setting that will transport them to another location, another lifestyle, another time, while still enjoying the safety of their reading space.
A complex story-line, involving historical events, accurately depicted and an addictive storytelling.
That tingling feeling that keeps you turning the pages.
An image, a feeling that will stay with them long after finished my book. Readers have appreciated in my writing the occasional passages they paused upon to enjoy especially for their lyrical descriptions.
A positive feeling, hope, a smile, as my writing has been described as uplifting and heart-warming, “making the world a beautiful place”- although my stories are honest.
An addictive reading, fueled by a passion for the topic and for storytelling.
Although reality can be uncomfortable in places, books can hold a mirror to real life. But life is also filled with joyful moments, with laughter and appreciation for our blessings. I hope readers will discover both in my books, as I write poetry, children’s stories, contemporary and historical fiction.
Gifts all readers reap out of books
Reduced stress and depressive thoughts, while instilling a sense of tranquility.
An increased IQ, a wider vocabulary and an improved memory.
An increased EQ, making us more empathic.
Improved analytical thinking and a deeper knowledge of what we want.
Also, reading as a form of mental stimulation slows down dementia and Alzheimer’s disease.
What I hope readers take from my books by Patricia Furstenberg
I love snow in all its aspects, yet browsing through past holiday pictures I realized that snow has thousands of faces and meanings. From the simple joy of snowflakes to the excitement and rush of making a snow angel or a snowman; from the wonder of an icicle to the art nature instills in a frozen fence; or, simply, the unspoiled wonder the morning after a snow storm holds.
Join me in finding the different meanings that snow holds.
The weather channel announced the blizzard, so everyone was expecting it: the snowfall. It came over a few days, quietly falling, day after day. The ground has to be frozen, you see, for the snow to settle and we were holding thumbs that first day: freeze, freeze. Checking the windows every half an hour: does the tar still shows? Has a dusty layer of snow settled yet? It takes a couple of day, you know. And it starts with a skift, a light snowfall.
Then, one morning, we woke up to this:
And to some footsteps left on our windowsill:
Need I say how fast we got dressed to go outside? As fast as our endless layers of clothing allowed us, anyway. And this is what we saw:
One of snow’s thousand faces certainly is wonder! Its meaning? Live in the moment.
Let it snow… or make it snow!
I think you have to be very patient if you are a coniferous tree. And have lots of practice sitting perfectly still.
Snow angels, through their serenity and peace, do confer winter a higher, spiritual meaning. But the joy that goes into making them certainly anchor the holiday season firmly into childhood. Maybe this symbol of winter is the fine, silver thread that connect so many hearts around the world, an universal language.
And snowmen! Yet you need a certain type of snow to built one, it has to warm up a little, so the snow will release some heat that, in turn, will bound the snowflakes together and help them hold their shape.
Then the onding, the heavy snow, returned. That’s a massive snowfall, but not big enough to be qualified as a blizzard. An onding is a regionalism used in Scotland and Northern England since the middle of the 18th century.
And a day later we walked to the shops…
The snow was THAT big:
Brave us, we traveled to Sighisoara by train, through snow. This will be a story on its own, but for now this is what we saw: grue, thin, floating ice:
Here is a first glimpse at Sighisoara, the amazing medieval city built along Târnava Mare River:
I have ambivalent feelings for the snow and ice clinging to a fence. It can be art, like this spiraled fence capped with snow:
Or this glowing, frozen chicken wire fence:
Yet this barbed wire frozen in winter makes me wince:
I leave you with this: as spiky as a barbed wire, as graceful as a ice-skater’s blades, the icicle is wonder and physics combined:
Taking a train journey through snow, between Bucharest and medieval Sighisoara, in Romania, was an exciting and magical experience. Fresh snow blanketed the fields and the hills, while the trees were frozen in winter as the train approached the Carpathian Mountains.
Snow is each new day’s promise for a new beginning. Everything is fresh, unspoiled, and the possibilities are endless. What shall it be today? Footprints? A snowball fight? A snowman? An icy fort?
I bet the coniferous trees wait patiently all year round, till it’s winter time again. Then only do they begin to loose their patience. ‘Is she here yet, the snow?’
The first promise of a colorful town awaiting at our destination:
It snowed some more by the time we took the train journey back.
Winter hangs in the air. Like an artist after laying the first layer of paint, then stepping back to take in his creation, winter took a breather before going back to work.
Sometimes, when you look in the distance snow seems to protect her own secrets…
…secrets she is ready to share with you. Dare you step off the train and listen to her?
Go ahead, go and listen. It’s not like you’re in Siberia. This isn’t Doctor Zhivago either, it’s just the Romanian plains where winter has only just began.
And pretty soon the sun smiles at us, on our train journey through snow and through Romania.
I was happy to count two trees atop this hill. I like to think they keep each other company. Do trees wish one another Merry Christmas? Perhaps they do.
An unusual, yet still typical sight for rural Romania, a cart pulled by a horse.
A beautiful sight for fans of all things train-related, an old steam engine, a narrow-railed one.
All train stations we’ve been through in Romania have this train map that shows you exactly where to wait on the platform, depending on your wagon number. Believe me, it is extremely useful if you board a train before dawn or if you travel with children.
A sight for the brave ones:
Until next time 🙂
Who knows, we might even travel to Sighisoara together…
It falls, slides with joy A dream? Longed for, urged, wished, hoped! Winter’s first present.
