en en en en id en en en en es en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en kn en en en en ca es es en tr ru ne en en en en en en en en en en en kn en en en en ca es es en tr ru ne en en en en en en en en en en kn en en en en ca es es en tr ru ne en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en kn en en en en ca es es en tr ru ne en is en is is en ca es es en tr ru ne en is en is ca es es en tr ru ne en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en kn en en en en ca es es en tr ru ne en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en kn en en en en ca es es en tr ru ne en en en en en en kn en en en en ca es es en tr ru ne en en en en en en en en en en en ca es es en tr ru ne en en en en en en en en en en en is is en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en
caedar-writing-artwork | Science & Fantasy Fiction, Horror, Poetry, Superhero and Young Adult
Currently blogging the Hierarchy of the Undead: A Gothic Horror Musical
Learning The Garden Of The Body
DRAGON: The Emerald Of Light
Lucy and the Snivel Chair
Joanne Gosling – Makeup Artist
Healing the Temple of the Soul
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 7) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir  (the Icelandic translation may take longer)
March 3, 2019 ~ caedar-writing-artwork ~ Leave a comment
Skessuhorn Mountain is located in Borgarfjörður a fjord and town in Western Iceland.  Skessuhorn is approximately 967 meters high and looks like an elongated pyramid with terraced steps.
As the bus pulled into the bus terminal at Borgarfjörður, Brynnhildur stared into the distance and marveled at the elongated and terraced pyramidal shape of Mount Skessuhorn.  Her amma lived in an old farm house near the mountain’s base and as she and her mother walked the half hour it would take to get there she wondered if something or someone in the far past had carved out the terraces into the mountain.  In the present machinery could do it but there were no machines long ago.
The grass was high on the rolling hills and she could feel the temperature dropping as her amma’s house came into view.  It was an old farmhouse built of stone carved into blocks with a chocolate brown wooden façade at the front.  The roof was peaked and covered in grass with a stone chimney that spewed out whiffs of smoke.  Two, white four panelled windows were to either side of a faded red door.  A cherubic face with long white hair and icy blue eyes stared at them through one of the windows.  Before they got to the door it opened and amma stepped out in an eggshell white woolly jumper with light blue wavy lines and blue jeans and sneakers.  She was taller than either her mother or her and her loving hug was bone crushing.
Inside amma insisted Brynnhildur and her mother sit at a table made of birch wood and warm up as she boiled water for tea over the small fire she had burning in the fireplace.  Brynnhildur loved the antiquity of the old birch wood table and tea-leaf willow chairs they sat in.  The only other trees native to Iceland, were aspen and rowan and they were so rare no one ever used them except for firewood when they died.
Once the bilberry tea was finished Brynnhildur saw her amma go into her bedroom.  When she came out she was holding what appeared to be a giant egg made of blue and clear swirls that took both amma’s hands to hold.
“What is it amma?”  Brynnhildur asked, awe-struck at the beauty of the egg.
“It is a blue calcite egg, Bryn,” her amma replied with a sad smile.  “You will need it to find the troll cave half way up Skessuhorn.”
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 6) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir  (the Icelandic translation may take longer)
February 24, 2019 ~ caedar-writing-artwork ~ Leave a comment
The glaciers in Iceland are melting upwards to a meter a year, just as they are in Canada, Russia, and elsewhere on Earth.  What will show up as the glaciers melt could be very interesting, such as extinct creatures, ancient artifacts, or diseases.
Brynnhildur stretched out her arms as she walked with her mother towards the bus station.   It was a warm 14°C and she wore only an azure fleece jacket unzipped to show the blue T-shirt with Better to be alone than with bad company stenciled onto it.   Her blue jeans were faded at the knees but they were the best pair she had to go see her amma.
People nodded to them as they walked by but none stopped to talk.  Her mother’s face was kind but stern.  A determined look made her ice blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight.
At the station they paid for return tickets and climbed aboard the hydrogen run red double decker Hop-Off-Hop-On bus.
“Take the window seat,” her mother insisted.  “I will explain things as we go.”
As Brynnhildur watched the hills, rivers and lakes pass by on their way to Skessuhorn her mother spoke in a sing-song voice of the people of Iceland.
My ancestry began in Norway and that is who you take after.  Our ancestors settled in villages in Ireland and Scotland.  Initially enslaving some of the Irish and Scottish but later becoming families.  Your father takes after the Scottish and Irish.  This mixed group arrived in Iceland around 930 A.D.  But as time passed it is argued that there were indigenous people of the land few know of, or believe in.  The giants: trolls and ogres; the elves: Huldufólk; and the sea people: Selkies.  Legend is the trolls and ogres would capture and mate with those of Norwegian background, while the Huldufólk and very rarely the Selkies with those of Irish and Scottish descent.  And now things have changed in the World.  As the glaciers melt and the oceans warm, what was buried and sleeps becomes uncovered and awakes once again!
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 5) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir
February 17, 2019 ~ caedar-writing-artwork ~ Leave a comment
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 5) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir  (the Icelandic translation may take longer)
Eyjafjallajökull is a volcano covered in a glacier.  In 2010 the Meteorological Institute of Iceland discovered magma from the Earth’s crest pouring into the magma chamber of the volcano causing over 3,000 mini earthquakes, and flooding.  A second eruption spewed volcanic ash several kilometers into the atmosphere disrupting flights from Europe but not so much from Iceland.
Brynhildur grumbled as she walked in the early dawn towards the chicken coop with a tray designed for collecting eggs.  The coop was built against a hill and stood between two giant rocks.  Both of the rocks were covered in moss that grew like patches of hair on giant humans.  On top of the grass covered roof stood one of the cockerels.  That was strange to her, because there were two coops, one for mating and this one, for hens that would lay unfertilized eggs.  He gave her the impression he was guarding the chickens, or something else.
She cooed at the chickens as she collected their eggs before bringing them back to the kitchen where her mother cooked pancakes.  Brynhildur studied her mother as she watched her dust each pancake with sugar before adding another layer.  Her mother’s blonde hair was tied in the back into a bob and she wore a blue cotton t-shirt and blue jeans.  Brynhildur giggled at the caption on the back of her mother’s t-shirt.   ON WITH THE BUTTER!
Her mother turned to her and smiled.  Brynhildur studied the face so much like her own.  Her mother’s eyes were ice blue with no trace of green.  When she smiled her canines were long and noticeable.  She was certainly more like her mother than her father.
As Brynhildur placed the tray of eggs into the refrigerator that stood closest to the doorway to the living room she asked, “Do you think Amma and Afi’s stories about Grýla eating naughty little children has some truth to it.  Maybe there was a horrible Icelandic woman in the past who did that?”
“Considering how often you don’t listen to either of us, I’m surprised she hasn’t eaten your yet.  Your father told me about the cave, Bryn,” her mother said with a loving but serious tone.  “You are our only child and when you marry you and your husband will take over the farm.  It will be important you continue with traditions even though you can’t ever see or hear what your father does in that cavern.  He’s off to speak to the bookseller, Jöðurr, today.  So you and I will go to see your great amma in Skessuhorn.  She has something for you.”  Her mother stared out the kitchen window where Eyjafjallajökull smoked at the very top.  “Things are changing Bryn and I will need to take you somewhere in Skessuhorn to prove your father isn’t the only one who is crazy.”
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 4) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir  (the Icelandic translation may take longer)
February 11, 2019February 11, 2019 ~ caedar-writing-artwork ~ Leave a comment
The ogres Bergthor and his wife Hrefna lived in Blahvamm by Blafjall.  Hrefna did not like all the new churches and moved to the base of Langjökull glacier.  Bergthor did not mind the churches and stayed in Blahvamm inside a cave.   The couple would meet occasionally as they both fished trout at Hvita Lake. A Traveller’s Guide to Icelandic Folk Tales by Jón R. Hjálmarsson.
Brynhildur wanted to ask her father about the spindly limbed huldufólk and the sick girl but she knew he didn’t think she could see or hear them.
“I know you think your pabbi is mad talking to someone invisible but please don’t mention it to anyone else,” her father said as they walked back to the truck in the July light that never grew darker than dusk.  “But you are more your mother than your old man so I will never be able to prove to you that I’m not a bit crazy.”
“I won’t let anyone know you’re going insane,” she said, trying to sound sarcastic but without conviction.  “So, is there any mythical creatures I can see?”  She asked, still wondering about the girl under the blanket.
“Yes.  Icelanders with blue eyes and exceptional strength are believed to be the offspring of ogres and humans who mated.”
“Momma and I are related to Grýla and Leppalúði?” her voice squeaked in shock.
“No, no, nor will you have nine to thirteen sons to bring havoc during Christmas,” her father said opening the passenger side door for her.
“Thank goodness, I don’t want to think one day mom will eat you!”
Her father glanced at her with a mischievous grin.  His face grew stern as he stared deeply into her eyes.  “You do have a tinge of green circling your pupils.”  He became silent and his face grew contemplative.
“Who would I be related to then?” she asked as they drove Highway One towards their farm in Ásólfsskáli.  In the dim light she could just see the outline of the mostly treeless hills.
“Could be the children of Bergthor and Hrefna of Bláfell Mountain.  Bergthor was always good to humans who didn’t seek to bother him, it’s said.  Or Kraka of Blahvamm.”
“Kraka!” Brynhildur shouted.  “I will have to capture a man and make him love me while I cover him in oils to turn him into an ogre like myself?”
Her father glanced at her and shrugged.  “How do you think your mother got me?”
Tíminn fyrir er kominn aftur: Íslenskur dularfulla hryllingur frá Gunnhildi Guðbjörnsdóttur og Dan Watt (blogg 3)
February 9, 2019 ~ caedar-writing-artwork ~ Leave a comment
Gömlu tímarninr snúa aftur: Íslensk hryllingssaga (blogg 3) Steinbítssroðsskór voru notaðir á Íslandi í aldaraðir og eru nú aftur orðnir vinsælir, ásamt skóm unnu úr laxaroði, þroskroði og silungsroði. Í dag vinnur Atlantic Leather á Sauðárkróki, Skagafirði, íslensk sútunarstöð roðsskó úr fiski, sem veiddur hefur verið til matar.
„Ég verð að fara einn inn með Dagbjörtu, Brynhildur“ sagði faðir hennar hvíslandi. „Ég orðin fjórtán pabbi“ sagði Brynhildur með hendur á mjöðm. „Hvað ef þú verður einhvertíman ófær um að koma kálffullri kú í hellinn og ég verð að gera það?“ „komdu þá með mér inn, en hafðu hljótt. Þú munt heyra mig tala, en ekki sjá þann sem ég tala við. Ég geri ekki ráð fyrir að þú skiljir, því þú hefur augu móður þinnar. Hún kom með mér eitt sinn og hélt að ég væri bilaður, en allar kýrnar okkar hafa eignast heilbrigðar kvígur. Svo hvort sem þú trúir á þetta, eður ei, mun ég halda þessari hefð við. Svo er ég ekki alveg viss um að þér verði vel tekið.“ Hana langaði að svara, en hann tók taum Dagbjartar og leiddi hana dýpra inn í hellinn. Inni í hellinum sá hún undarlega sýn. Maður, lægri en faðir hennar, gekk til móts við þau. Renglulegir útlimir hans voru í undarlegu samræmi við grannan búkinn, ásamt breiðum höndum og fótum. Stór græn augu hans glóðu og lýstu upp langt mjótt nef og oddhvöss eyru, sem stungust út um brúnt hrokkið hár hans. Hann var skegglaus. Föt hans voru einföld; skyrta og buxur úr hreindýraskinni, í hinum ljósbleika lit blóðbergsins. Á fótum sér bar hann slitna steinbítsskó. „Sæll Eðvald“ sagði faðir hennar og kinkaði kolli til hans. Innan úr jakka sínum dró hann lítinn böggul, pakkaðan inn í léreft. „Í þakkarskyni, kom ég með bókina sem þú óskaðir eftir“ „Ah“ heyrði hún Eðvald svara ákafri röddu, en þó svo hljótt að hún þurfti að leggja sig alla fram til að heyra. „Bók Önnu Rósu Róbertsdóttur, grasalæknis. Ég vissi ekki að hún væri enn fáanleg, eftir svona mörg ár.“ Hann strauk löngum grönnum fingrum yfir titil bókarinnar. „Íslenskar lækningajurtir, notkun þeirra, tínsla og rannsóknir. Iðnvæðingin tók svo margt frá okkur.“ Hún heyrði harminn í rödd hans. „og hver ert þú?“ „Brynhildur, dóttir mín“ Faðir hennar gaut augunum í átt hennar. „Hún heldur að ég sé brjálaður, því hún getur hvorki séð þig né heyrt“ „Ertu viss?“ spurði Eðvald. „Já, því hún hefur augu móður sinnar.“ Brynhildur sá Eðvald horfa rannsakandi á hana,. „Það er daufur grænn hringur um augastein hennar. Kannski sjáum við huldufólkið það einungis.“ Brynhildur heyrði ekki lengur það sem Eðvald sagði. Innar í hellinum sá hún fleira huldufólk; föla stúlku með þung augnalok yfir stórum grænum augum. Sítt, dökkt hárið lá þétt yfir enni hennar, sem dró fram há kinnbein. Hún sat á hækjum sér, skjálfandi inni í sprungu; magrir handleggir og fótleggir hennar stungust undan teppi sem umvafði hana. „Ég held að það sé eitthvað af þér í henni líka,“ sagði Eðvald. „Komdi með hina bókina, þegar þú finnur hana. Við gætum Dagbjartar og afkvæmis hennar þangað til. Farðu núna Búi!“ hljómaði skipun frá huldufólkinu.
Tíminn fyrir er kominn aftur: Íslenskur dularfulla hryllingur frá Gunnhildi Guðbjörnsdóttur og Dan Watt (blogg 2)
February 6, 2019 ~ caedar-writing-artwork ~ Leave a comment
Blogg 2 Drangurinn er staður, þar sem talið er að íslenskir bændur hafi farið með kálffullar kýr til burðar undir vökulu augnaráði huldufólks. Íslenska kýrin getur verið í sex mismunandi litum og er talin hafa komið til landsins fyrir um þúsund árum. Brynhildur klappaði kviðinn á Dagbjörtu, meðan hún leiddi hana niður rampinn á Artic Trucks rafmagnsbílnum. Hún hélt lauslega í tauminn á kúnni og elti föður sinn að Drangnum. Í fölnandi birtunni glitti aðeins í rauðbröndótta lit kápunnar hennar. „Flýttu þér Brynhildur“ sagði pabbi hennar í svalri júlínóttunni. „Við þurfum að koma henni að Drangum áður en rökkrið skellur á“ Pabbi hennar var ekki jafn hávaxinn og margir íslenskir karlmenn, svo dóttir hans efaðist um að hann væri skyldur Skessunni á Arnavatnsheiði, en kannski rann blóð hins fíngerðara huldufólks í æðum hans, sem gæti einmitt útksýrt það nafn sem foreldrar hans höfðu gefið honum: Búi. Brynhildur var nú þegar hærri en hann og þreknari, eins og mamma hennar. „Hvers vegna komum við alltaf með Dagbjörtu og aðrar kálffullar kýr hingað? Og skiljum þær eftir? Er það ekki hættulegt?“ spurði hún fyrir framan risavaxinn hamarinn sem gnæfði yfir þeim. Til hliðanna rétt sá hún glitta í Hrútafell og hluta Eyjafjalla. Hann strauk löngum grönnum fingrum sínum í gegnum ljóst, úfið hárið og sagði „Ég er ekki viss um að þú sért tilbúin að vita það“ Þótt augu hennar væru ísblá eins og móður hennar, hafði hún erft ljóst hár föður síns. Það var sítt og hún lét það falla í óstýrlátum lokkum á meðan hún hjálpaði föður sínum á bænum. En hún hafði ekki erft fíngerða líkamsbyggingu hans, né langa útlimi og fingur. Hún var há og sterklega vaxin. Líkari norskum forfeðum sínum, en breskum. En henni fannst líka að Íslendingar skæru sig úr frá öðrum Evrópubúum. Henni hafði alltaf fundist blóð Íslendinga bundið landinu sjálfu. Þau nálguðust innganginn að hellinum. „Ég er nógu gömul“ sagði hún og lyfti hökunni. Faðir hennar stundi og opnaði tvöfalda timburhliðið fyrir innganginum að hellinum. „Huldufólkið mun vaka yfir Dagbjörtu og auðvelda henni burðinn.“ „Huldufólk! Álfar?!“ nánast hrópaði Brynhildur spyrjandi. „Kallaðu þau sínu rétta nafni Brynhildur!“ sagði faðir hennar áminnandi. Brynhildur var í þann veginn að hlæja vantrúa, þegar hún skyndilega heyrði hávaða koma innan úr hellinum
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 3) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir
February 3, 2019 ~ caedar-writing-artwork ~ Leave a comment
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 3) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir
Wolffish skin footwear was worn in Iceland for centuries and is now once again popular, along with salmon, perch, and cod.  Currently Atlantic Leather, Sauðárkrókur, Skagafjörður, Iceland a tannery, is making fish skin footwear from the skin of fish caught for food.
“I must go in alone with Dagbjört, Brynhildur,” her father said in a hushed voice.
“I am fourteen, father,” Brynhildur said with her hands on her hips.  “What if you are unable to bring a pregnant cow to the cavern at some time and I must do it?”
“Then come in with me but be silent.  You will hear me speaking but not hear or see who I am talking to.  I don’t expect you to understand for you have your mother’s eyes.  She came with me once and thought I was crazy but all of our cows have had healthy heifers.  So believe or not I will keep up this tradition.  And I don’t think they would accept you.”  She wanted to reply but he took Dagbjört’s lead and entered deeper into the cave.
Down the cavern she saw a queer sight.  A man shorter than her father walked towards them.  His spindly arms and legs somehow appeared proportional to his thin torso and broad hands and feet.  His large green eyes glowed, illuminating a long narrow nose and pointed ears with tips that poked through his brown, curly hair.  He had no facial hair.  His clothes were simple; a shirt and pants made of Elkhorn fleece dyed the rose-purple of thymus praecox.  On his feet she saw well-worn wolffish skin shoes.
“Eðvald,” her father said with a slight bow of his head.  From inside his jacket her father pulled out a parcel wrapped in cheese cloth.  “In thanks I brought you the book you requested.”
“Ah,” she heard Eðvald say with a thrilled voice so soft she had to strain to hear.  “The Anna Rosa Robersdottir book.  I didn’t not know if it would still be available after so many years.”  Eðvald traced a long finger across the books title.  “Icelandic Herbs and Their Medicinal Uses.  Industrialisation took so much away from us.”  She could hear the lament in his voice.  “And who is with you?”
“My daughter, Brynhildur.”  Her father glanced her way.  “She thinks I am mad right now, for she can neither see nor hear you.”
“Are you sure?” Eðvald asked.
“Yes, she has her mother’s eyes.”
Brynhildur could see Eðvald studying her.  “There is a very faint circle of green around her pupil.  Perhaps only we huldufólk can see it.”
Brynhildur no longer heard what Eðvald was saying.  Further down the cavern she saw another huldufólk; a girl with pale skin and drooping eyelids over her large green eyes.  Her long brown hair was pasted against her forehead highlighting her shallow cheeks.  She was huddled, shivering within a crevice; her emaciated arms and legs wrapped around a blanket that covered her.
“I think she has some of you in her as well,” Eðvald was saying.  “Bring the other book once you find it.  We will keep Dagbjört and her child safe until then.  Go now Búi!” the huldufólk commanded.
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 2) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir
January 27, 2019 ~ caedar-writing-artwork ~ Leave a comment
(Blog 2)  Drangurinn Rock is where Icelandic farmers are believed to have taken their pregnant cattle to give birth under the watchful eye of the Huldufolk (hidden people, elves—though some argue they are not the same as elves).  The Icelandic cow can have up to six different colours and was believed to first arrive upwards of a thousand years ago.
Brynhildur patted Dagbjört’s bovine flank as she lead her down the electric powered Arctic truck’s ramp.  She held onto Dagbjört’s lead loosely as she followed her father towards Drangurinn Rock.  In the fading light only the pied red and brindle were visible on her multi-coloured coat.
“Hurry Brynhildur!” her father called in the cool July air.  “We need to get her into the cave before it is too dark!”
Her father did not have the height of many of the Icelandic men so she doubted he was related to the very tall ogress Skessan á Arnarvatnsheiði but perhaps there was the blood of the Huldufolk, the smaller, hidden people in him.  That would account for her grandparents naming him Búi.  Brynhildur was already taller than her father and stockier—like her mother.
“Why do we always bring Dagbjört and the other cows here when they are pregnant?  And leave them?  Is it not dangerous?” she asked as the giant boulder loomed above her.  To the sides she could just make out Mount Hrútafell and the rest of the Eyjafjöll mountains.
He brushed his ruffled blond hair back with his long thin fingers.  “I don’t think you are ready to know that.”
Although her eyes were icy blue like her mother’s she did have her father’s hair and kept it long and unruly when helping him on the farm.  But she did not have his fine lone fingers, nor his spindly legs and arms.  Her body was robust and tall.  More like the Norse than the British.  But she also felt the Icelandic people are unique from their European ancestors.  She always felt the blood of an Icelander was mixed with the land itself.
They came towards a cave entrance.  “I am old enough,” she said with her chin lifted.
Her father sighed as he opened the two wooden doors that would let them into the cave.  “Huldufolk will watch over Dagbjört and ease her pregnancy.”
“Huldufolk?  Elves?!” Brynhildur half asked half shouted.
“Call them by their proper name Brynhildur!” her father admonished.
Brynhildur was about to laugh in disbelief when she heard a noise near the entrance to the cave.
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 1) Dan Watt with Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir
January 21, 2019January 21, 2019 ~ caedar-writing-artwork ~ Leave a comment
We don’t have any pictures of yet.  This will be a collaborative story with my good friend Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir.  There will be two blogs.  One in English and one in Icelandic.  Unfortunately, the Google translator doesn’t quite translate English to Iceland as closely as I had hoped so the translated version may take a bit longer.  Enjoy!
The time before is again. Our hidden places uncovered by the receding glaciers. You kept safe The Throne of Hildur our forever Queen in the village of Bakkagerði in the East Fjords. And so many other places where your machinery could not move our homes and our churches. But now nýjar komur, some of you will need to see us, for the receding ice has released, the afturganga!
We must work together before the worst of your kind, Gottskalk Nikulausson, re-emerges and finds the red book Rauðskinna. He must never read from the gold lettered pages again! Or all the World will turn dark and chilly, and all will become his servants!
Push-ups Video by twhealthhumor
December 15, 2018 ~ caedar-writing-artwork ~ 1 Comment
My exercise website twhealthhumor doesn’t allow videos so for all the caedar-writing-artwork followers you get an extra bonus!
We are trying to think of satirical videos that are also educational.  Enjoy!
with Taylor Norris, RMT and co-blogger of twhealthhumor
Theresa Coon, Owner of Drill Divas Bootcamp
Dan Watt, Personal Trainer, and Science Fiction Author
Taken at Victoria Park, Kitchener Ontario
Science and Fantasy Fiction, Horror Comedy, Young Adult, and Poetry
Dan Watt and Guest Writers and Artists
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 7) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir  (the Icelandic translation may take longer)
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 6) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir  (the Icelandic translation may take longer)
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 5) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 4) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir  (the Icelandic translation may take longer)
Tíminn fyrir er kominn aftur: Íslenskur dularfulla hryllingur frá Gunnhildi Guðbjörnsdóttur og Dan Watt (blogg 3)
Tíminn fyrir er kominn aftur: Íslenskur dularfulla hryllingur frá Gunnhildi Guðbjörnsdóttur og Dan Watt (blogg 2)
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 3) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 2) Dan Watt and Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir
The Time Before Is Again: An Icelandic mystery-horror (Blog 1) Dan Watt with Gunnhildur Gudbjornsdottir
Push-ups Video by twhealthhumor
Follow Blog via Email
Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Join 167 other followers
Alyssa Coppolino IFBB PRO and Fitness Trainer (This is from a blog from twhealthhumor.wordpress.com)
Joanne Gosling – Makeup Artist