Daily Prompt: Forgive and Forget?

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

Share a story where it was very difficult for you to forgive the perpetrator for wronging you, but you did it — you forgave them.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us REPENTENCE.

St. Urs Cathedral, Solothurn (8)

I know I am an atheist, but that does not mean that I do not appreciate art works when I see them, and I like to take photos in the local churches. This one is from the St. Urs cathedral in Solothurn. I just thought the subject of this daily prompt cried out for something to do with religion.

Forgiveness? I just live my life, suffer the consequences and put up with the negative and positive sides of everything: almost. Are you listening Nera chief feline.

“What is it now, Mrs. Human, what have I done wrong, although we felines never do anything wrong. We just react.”

“I remember a time once when we went to the vets.”

“Now Mrs. Human, if this is about a vet visit, then you got all you deserved. The insult to my feline reputation is made when the cage arrives and I disappear to a place where you have difficulties to pick me up. Under the bed is best. I know you are a golden oldie and seem to have problems bending down to reach me.”

“No, Nera, this was not the problem. This is normal and Mr. Swiss wedged you out of your hiding place. You were put into the cage and lid down before you realised it. The fun and games began at the vets. It was just a normal annual jab, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What is normal about an annual jab when my feelings are ignored and a needle is stuck into the most sensitive part of the body? That is not normal and totally extraordinary: typical human and I have not yet forgiven or forgotten.”

“This is not about your forgiveness or forgetfulness, and I was not aware that felines have a memory.”

“We don’t Mrs. Human, there you are right. Bastet rid us of memories in the Egyptian corn chambers, he found them not necessary. Why remember something, the main thing is that it is dead and you can eat it. No time for forgiving and forgetting, we have a job to do. Eat, drink and be a feline. So Mrs. Human, what was your problem?”

“Nera the problem was that when the vet gave you the unnecessary injection to prevent feline illnesses occurring, you turned your head at 180°, something like in the Exorcist film.”

“And – we felines are flexible animals, no problem. Perhaps you were jealous because once again I proved that I could do something that you are unable to do as a common human.”

“Nera, are you following me? You turned your head and sunk your teeth fangs into my hand, drawing blood and leaving tooth marks.”

“You see Mrs. Human, revenge is sweet.”

“This meant that I took you home quickly, in the meanwhile phoned my doctor for an immediate appointment to have a tetanus injection as that illness could prove fatal.”

“No that is adding insult to injury Mrs. Human. Did you at least get your injection in your sensitive part?”

“All parts of the human body are sensitive when we have a needle stuck in, but if you must know it was in the arm.”

“But you forgave me Mrs. Human.”

“Did I have a choice? And I thought that the word “forgive” did not exist in meow according to Bastet.”

“It doesn’t Mrs. Human, just making conversation to keep you happy.”

There must be a moral to learn from this story, if you forgive and forget and a feline is involved, do not bother.

Daily Prompt: Forgive and Forget

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20Dec2013

Daily Prompt: Random Act of Kindness

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

Tell us about the time when you performed a secret random act of kindness — where the recipient of your kindness never found out about your good deed. How did the deed go down?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us SECRET.

A secret stream, not really but it appears out of the dark and churns onwards. Who knows what sights it has seen on its way and perhaps we would not want to know.

Today I am at a loss for words and that does not happen often, even my photo programme as done new things and I can only add pictures with a copy paste effort, not being able to use their newly styled html codes which do not work.. I must be a mean, selfish old lady who could not care less about the others in this connection.

On the other hand I have been known to donate to charities without mentioning my name and address. I even worked for the voluntary first organisation in my village doing their accounts and taking part in many exercises including CPR, attending to the injured in an accident. I was on standby, although I was never called out. Voluntary means not being paid for the job, just getting on with it.

I have never found it necessary to do a secret random act of kindness, I just do it if necessary and I have definitely never been interested in knowing what happens afterwards or keeping check of how the deed went down.

As said I am probably only interested in I, me and myself and really have nothing more to say.

This morning I braved the supermarket with a list and Mr. Swiss at my side. I was wondering if famine had broken out in Switzerland. People were buying as if it would soon be doomsday. I saw tropical fruit, also strange forms of nut life. Basically I am an orange, tangerine, apple person and do not really need lychees or passion fruits in my fruit salad. It is because of Christmas you say? Aha, then we buy things that we not normally eat during the year because it is Christmas. I get it all wrong sometimes.

Of course I do special Christmas dinners, they are many. On Christmas Eve we have the main celebration and No. 1 and No. 2 son will be there. No. 2 son will disappear afterwards, travelling to stay with his girlfriend’s family. I will continue with the cooking marathon on Christmas Day and Boxing Day and then we will be fed, probably suffering from overeating.

The meat has been ordered (you never know, there might not be any meat left) a buying plan has been established and the deep freeze is stuffed full. Am I glad it is not custom to have a turkey in Switzerland. I would have to keep a live bird out in the yard and look it in the eyes when its time has come, hiding a chopper behind my back with three felines licking their lips and looking on. I just would not have room for the bird in the freezer. No, I have clinically packed filet of beef, some veal and of course a ham. The veg has already been bought; thank goodness you do not have to kill a brussel sprout or a red cabbage.

I am not a vegetarian, neither are my felines.

“Mrs. Human, we can only eat meat Our delicate digestive system cannot even manage a pea, let alone a brussel sprout.”

With these intelligent words of wisdom from my chief feline Nera, I will close this stupid blog. Will be back to wish all happy seasonal days when a normal sensible daily prompt arrives on the scene again. They seem to be few and far between at the moment and always seem to start with “Tell us about ……”.

Daily Prompt: Random Act of Kindness

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19Dec2013

Daily Prompt: Mad as a Hatter

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

Tell us about a time when you flew into a rage. What is it that made you so incredibly angry?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us RAGE.

I wonder if that was the day when I flew such a tantrum that even the skies came out in sympathy. Do I fly into rages? Now and again, like all of us but I am not doing a general confessional here and explaining all the gory details, like when I decided to kill the neighbour, but changed my mind, he was not worth the trouble.

I was going to blow my school up when I was a kid, but the government did it for me a few years later, by demolishing the building. I was thinking about putting poison into my boss’s tea in the office, but he only drunk coffee. Stabbing a salesman in a shop was another idea I had, but I suppose he was only doing his job and had a tiresome day.

We all have days like that. Let us be honest, everyone here must have had a moment where they wish Bill Gates had never been born. When windows develops a mind of its own, perhaps your computer shows the screen of death. I had that once and read that it is might be an Acer complaint. Yes, I have an Acer and up to now have not felt the urge to throw it out of the window. However, after a restart the death screen had thought twice and was again alive. Did I stay cool, of course I did, although my stomach did a few leaps and bounds.

Another memorable occasion with my Acer was when my screen turned 90° in one direction. I had to turn my head at a 90° angle to be able to read it. It was combined with putting the © sign on my photos and I hit the wrong key. I did get a stiff neck trying to read the instructions in Internet about what to do. Eventually Mr. Swiss helped me out by looking on his computer. All it needed was the Alt key together with the upwards arrow and everything was back in its place. There is a solution for everything.

I believe there have even been fights originating over computer problems, resulting in injuries. I used to be a working woman, but I was always cool. I had to be, because of the customers. Did they know I was knitting little dolls with their name embroidered on them, where I would stick pins in them during the evening, hoping that the customers would disappear: even that did not work.

Actually I was surprised at this prompt today. I know I am not in the church club, but it is Christmas, like the time of good will to all men and God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, but Daily Prompt decided it should be livened up with some exciting blogs about how to rid the world of people that annoy you. On this peaceful and happy note I can only say it is never as bad as you think. Even Rasputin the mad monk did not die straight away. He was poisoned, shot and beaten and eventually drowned before he decided to go. Someone in Russia must have got incredibly angry about Rasputin – Death of Gregory Rasputin

By the way I did get a little annoyed today when writing this blog. I visited others which have also blogged on this subject and read somewhere on a blog that the person will not be visiting anyone that has snow falling on their blog pages. Ok, that is her problem. I like my snow flakes, it is only once a year, and I do not stare at my prize winning suspicious blogs for longer than a few minutes, so it does not bother me. In any case it will not annoy this person me writing this, because she refuses to read what I write in any case (because of the snow).

Daily Prompt: Mad as a Hatter

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18Dec2013

Weekly Writing Challenge: Collecting Detail

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

In today’s challenge, you’ll turn your observational superpowers on high alert.

I saw him when I entered the supermarket. I wondered if he actually entered and became a customer. Was he only outside watching people entering and leaving. Perhaps he had lost his job and had nothing better to do. He was dressed in dark colours, nothing special: a black jacket, black woolly hat and jeans. His shoes the general trainers, a working man’s uniform, but he was not working. His job seemed to be an observer. Now and again he would nod to someone, but he was ignored. He might take a few steps to keep warmth circulating. It was a cold wintery day with frost on the trees. Was he a sympathetic type? Perhaps some found him interesting; others thought he was a threat, a person to be ignored as you walked past. The general impression was dark, a three day beard growing on his chin and a general air of negligence. Hands in his pockets, he sat on the edge of a wooden crate, a leftover of supermarket props and his head turned to watch the people like myself.

Weekly Writing Challenge: Collecting Detail

18Dec2013

Daily Prompt: You’re a Mean One Mr. Grinch

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

What is your least favorite personal quality in others? Extra points for sharing your least favorite personal quality in yourself.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us VICE.

Me Sunday afternoon writing a story

I am so perfect, that I do not have a least favourite personal quality. It looks like my extra points are again disappearing over the horizon. But just a minute, let us ask Mr. Swiss, whose opinion I always, almost, appreciate.

“What did you say? Temperamentvoll? That means full of temperament, bubbly, spirited. Aha, not quiet, you mean I could play it perhaps a little more cool sometimes and not explode.”

I do not think I will ask Mr. Swiss any more, He is probably prejudiced after spending more than half his life with me. Nobody’s perfect Mr. Swiss.

As you can see from the photo, taken by a local paparazzi (will not mention any names) I am the personification of calm, nothing excites me. At this moment in time, I was probably having leading a discussion on how to compose the perfect prize winning blog.

Things just happen. We have a new vacuum cleaner. It is one of those Dyson type new developments, you know, no bags for the trash. The trash seems to be digested in the insides of the machine and only fine dust is expelled. I think it might be bewitched, possessed, wondering where does the rubbish go. Being a housewife, it is part of my job to know how this machine works. It arrived yesterday. My first confrontation was the electric lead. I am used to pulling it out and pressing a lever with my foot for it to disappear again into the bowels of the machine. This new fantastic formula one machine had no lever. Admittedly I uttered a few words not for the ears of children. Mr. Swiss pointed out that I have to just pull the cord gently and it automatically reverses, disappearing again. Mr. Swiss is so clever and I am not so gifted with the gentle touch.

My second problem occurred today. I did not actually loose my temper, although Mr. Swiss said he heard me from another room and I was slightly strongly excited, quite loud. I wanted to detach the long sucking tube from the machine to deal manually with sucking dust in a corner with a shorter tube. I had to wait at least half a minute until he came to my rescue, but he came. Of course he knew the answer; just a calm squeezing movement on the hose and the tube was detached. He is so clever. Of course he studied the instruction book. We have an instruction book?

Do I have a least favourite personal quality in others. No, not really, perhaps those people who always know the answers, especially when I am lost in translation. I did have a disagreement with the Swiss Governernment in 1994 when the female pension age was increased from 62 to 64 years old. How dare they, two years of my golden oldie life sacrificed for a stupid law. However, it seems that it was put to the vote and the Swiss nation said “Yes please”. I did not say yes please. You see, the Swiss nation did not ask for my opinion.

Otherwise, I do not drink, do not smoke and …. isn’t life boring sometimes?

Daily Prompt: You’re a Mean One Mr. Grinch

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17Dec2013

Daily Prompt: By the Skin of your Teeth

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

Share a time when you narrowly avoided disaster.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us ESCAPE.

There are times when you have to do what you have to, with no choice. One of those times is in the evening around nine, especially in winter, when everything is dark. It is then that I descend to the washing room, in the cellar. Why, in the evening your might ask, that is easy, our electric current is halved at this time. When the machine runs for an hour churning out water, mixing with the washing powder and spinning its head off to dry the goods, you only pay half the cost. This is the reason why I take my courage in my hand and the lift and descend into the depths of the cellar at such an unearthly hour.

I am not a nervous person, have made the journey often. On this particular evening I saw her.

illuminated angel at the door

She was always there, but the problem was the electric light was not working. Luckily she was holding a candle. Generally she just stands there as an ornament, her dead sightless eyes just looking ahead.

“Good evening” said a voice.

“Huh” said mine, not seeing anything human.

“It’s me, I am lighting your way, the lights are out. I have taken over.”

I looked around and the ornament blinked, did I see a smile, or was it more a grin.

“You cannot speak, you are a dummy, not real.”

“This evening I can speak, we have taken over. Going down to the washing room?”

“Yes, I am, if I find the way in the darkness.”

“You will, there are many illuminations down there.”

“The light is working in the cellar.”

“Yes there are lights in the cellar, they are all waiting for you.”

I was feeling a bit creeped out speaking to what I thought was a dummy made of some sort of artificial material that usually just stood there in silence. Then she spoke again.

“The lift is not working, you will have to walk down the stairs.”

“I do not walk down stairs, especially in the evening. I might fall.”

“You might and you might not” she answered. “On the other hand I am sure they will help you to find the way, just follow the light.”

“But there are no lights” I answered. She raised her arm and pointed, holding her candle in the other hand.

“Follow the lights”

I turned my head in the direction where she was pointing and saw the glow in the gloom of the stair well. Cautiously I place one foot before the other and then it happened. I slipped, but it was as if an unseen hand was holding me. It gently pushed and I arrived at the bottom of the stairs. Just a short walk crossing the corridor and I was in safety, in my washing room. I glanced around and saw the endless darkness of the corridor. I never did like that corridor, it was so long and dark, leading the way to the various separate cellars and other washing rooms. I was alone, or was I?

I saw a movement? I ran to the safety of my washing room and there was light. The machine was filled with the washing, I turned on the switch for the electricity and opened the water tap. The machine spring to life, turning and drenching the wash with soapy liquid. I breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was in order, just a figment of my imagination. I never liked going to that washing room in the evening.

I began my return journey. I closed the door to the washing room and peered around the corner. There was a dark gap between leaving the room and arriving again at the bottom of the stairs. A transparent figure was ascending the stairs in the distance, I was sure. Why did I have to eat that cheese sandwich for tea. I was already suffering from hallucinations. I took a deep breath and ran for the stairs and then it happened, I could hardly believe it, the light bulb flickered and there was light. There was light everywhere, no darkness, no ghostly figures and above all the elevator was moving again.

I arrived at the beginning of my journey and she was still there holding the candle in her hand, still burning.

“I am here again, everything seems to be back to normal” I said to her.

There was silence; the figure was again looking with her dead eyes. It was then that the neighbour opened her door and entered the hall.

“Are you talking to someone?” she asked looking at me with a strange look.

“No, no” I said, I was just thinking out loud.”

“In that case good night” said the neighbour.

I mumbled an answer, feeling a bit silly. After all lifeless dolls do not talk, do they?

I returned to the apartment.

“You were gone a long while” said Mr. Swiss. “Anything happen on the way, did you have another one of your accidents?”

“No, no, everything fine” I said. Or………

celler corridor

Daily Prompt: By the Skin of Your Teeth

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16Dec2013

Daily Prompt: Memories of Holidays past

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

What is your very favorite holiday? Recount the specific memory or memories that have made that holiday special to you.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us BELOVED

Christmas in Migros, Langendorf

Daily Prompt sometimes wants to know too much. I like writing my blogs, but avoid telling too much of my private life and this is asking for too much private so I am not going into too many details.

My favourite holiday? I do not do favourite holidays, they happen and I do what everyone expects me to do. I think in this case Christmas is the holiday that is asked for. I am an athest, but find having a celebration once a year with all the trimmings is OK.

Christmas was a good holiday when I was a kid. They were what I call the black and white holidays, because if we had any photos (and we do not) they would be in black and white, coloured films being too expensive in the fifties and beginning sixties. It was a family Christmas, it had always been that way and so it stayed. The family being mum’s family with a short visit to dad’s mum and dad and sister before the party started. Me, my five cousins and the aunts and uncles gathered at the biggest house in the family where my aunt lived. She had the tree, in silver plastic, we had presents and all the aunts gathered in the kitchen to make the tea. Evening was a party with music, dancing and singing and plenty to drink. Of course it was fun, I had no work, got presents and we kids were left to ourselves.

So let us fast forward to my days when I had young children of my own. My mum and dad would come from England to Switzerland and spend the week with us. We had a tree, done Swiss style with real candles. Mum was a bit nervous on that one, thinking that the house would probably burn down if we were not careful. We celebrate in Switzerland on 24^th December in the evening, another problem for mum. She was used to a real good old East End knees up party on 25^th. Switzerland is more into the real meaning stuff of Christmas. We have fun, not exactly a carnival celebration, more on the quiet side.

The evening meal is the meal of the holiday, meaning mum cooks it and all the others eat it. Not like the ham sandwiches from the good old black and white days, no you prepared it. and cooked it. Perhaps a chateau briand with the trimmings, meaning making a sauce to go with it and various vegetables. It was work in the kitchen. Of course you supply a desert, could be ice cream and fruit, or something with a delicate sweet sauce. After the meal the kids are to produce something, perhaps say a poem or play an instrument and sing. Then they get the presents from the tree. Just not the happy go lucky Christmas from the good old days in London, something completely different. I think it was then I realised that Christmas could be hard work and it was probably similar for my aunts when I was younger.

Time goes on, the family grows up, and the kids are no longer kids. I now like my quiet Christmas. It is now on a smaller scale, the work is less, the stress is less and the presents are less.

Daily Prompt: Memories of Holidays Past

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15Dec2013

Daily Prompt: Festivus for the Rest of Us

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

You have been named supreme ruler of the universe. Your first order of business is creating and instituting a holiday or festival in your honor. What day of the year is your holiday? What special events will take place? Describe YOU DAY in as great a detail as you can muster: the special foods we’ll consume, the decorations we’ll use…everything.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us FESTIVE.

Street Party WWII

There are so many festivals and holidays throughout the world, I think the little day of me would disappear beneath the others. Even Italy cancelled many holidays or moved them a few years ago because they discovered the people were spending more time off work celebrating than getting on with the job. Switzerland has the wonderful habit of disregarding holidays that might fall on a week-end. Saturdays and Sundays are generally work free so why compensate with Monday and Friday, just the luck of the draw.

I remember my days in good old England, we were compensating all the time. Bank holidays were always comfortably fixed on a Monday or Friday, and if May Day happens to be a Sunday, then Monday is added for good measure. Yes, they were the good old days of being a British inhabitant.

Now I will take you down memory lane, memories I grew up with so let us look at the photo. What are those lovely ladies celebrating? At that time they needed no special honour days, they were just glad that after five years of war, the peace treaty was signed and the nightly bombing raids on both sides of the channel were a thing of the past. Europe was celebrating, all in their own way and for their own reasons.

My mum is the lady on the right, wearing her dress of the day. I remember the dress because she kept it. It was made of a sort of shiny silk like material in light blue with flowers in pink and blue and a little bit of brown. The skirt was also a shiny material, in brown. It was one of my favourite “dressing up” dresses when I was a kid. On a rainy day with nothing to do I would dive into the dressing up box. There was also a wedding dress, the same sort of shiny material, but in white and there was even a headdress made of sort of waxy flowers. Of course at that time you wore what you could get, everything still being rationed.

Back to the photo of the day: it was some time in 1945 in a small square in London’s East End. The people were not rich, working class, the soldiers still away packing their belongings together to return after a five year war. My mum was still a single lady, dad had not yet arrived. Who are the other lovely ladies? They are all sisters, Emmy, Lizzie and Ivy Stamford, our neighbours in Norah Street. We lived at No. 45, they lived in the next house and our gardens bordered on each other. I can only remember the days after the war growing up with the neighbours. We were never in each other’s houses, we were all friends. Lizzie was married and lived on the second floor of her house, and the other two sisters lived with their mother on the ground floor. They had chickens in the back garden when I was a kid, which disappeared somewhere on the way, probably after a Chrismas dinner.

During the postwar celebrations: the little street was decorated with flags in all shapes and colours, mainly with a British accent. There was dancing, drinking and eating. Not like the street parties of today where you have to have a police permission and everything nicely organised. Organisation was not a thing when there were still bombed houses near and you just used what you found. I remember the ration books mum had until I was at least seven years old and I believe rationing only stopped in 1954 with meat and bacon, sugar and sweets ending in 1953. She had little books which were marked when she bought something and they were part of my toys for a few years to come afterwards.

During the war the family remaining at home slept in the garden in an Anderson shelter. I remember my mum telling me the story of grandad. He was too old to be a soldier and worked in one of the munitions factories. We even had a rusty bomb shell as an ornament in the garden. I grew up with that one. So the builders came to construct the shelter in the garden with an annoyed grandad looking on and complaining about his tulips being dug up to make room for this metal shelter which were especially for the poorer population. They were free. Mum said his words were something like “crawl into your holes”, but apparently he was the first one to crawl when the alarm went. Mum once spent half a night under the table in the kitchen because the alarm sounded when she was at the movies and did not get home in time.

So the people had something to celebrate:. the luxury of having my day with special food just for the fun of it – no thank you. I have seen enough in the world to realise that this would be an unnecessary luxury, even an insult upon those that do not even know where the next meal is. A celebration is no celebration without it being earned and the people of Europe earned it after five years of war.

End of World War II

Daily Prompt: Festivus for All of Us

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14Dec2013

Daily Prompt: Necessity is the Mother of Invention

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

Imagine, in great detail, an invention that could help reverse pollution — describe for us how your invention works and how it will help save the planet.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us INVENTIVE.

Dinosaur

Even this sweet animal polluted himself and he was big. His feet plodded over the earth many years ago and all we now have is a memory in the local natural history museum. Who would have thought that he even took a walk over our local Jura mountains. His frozen footprints were discovered near the little village of Lommiswil, a 5-10 minute car journey from where I live.

His death was his own fault, so research tells us. He had a big body and perhaps who knows a big heart, but his brain was not made to cope. It was a few sizes too small. His main problem was the recycling system. Yes, the poor sweet dinosaur probably suffocated, due to the production of methane gas. Imagine your toilet with no sanitary system, filled up over time and no-one to clear the human refuse away. You might suffocate, and so did this sweet little animal. We do not even know if he was vegetarian or not, so we could blame it on the plants.

If the dinosaur could not do it, then how are we humans supposed to do it, reverse pollution. The dinosaur was the cause of his own pollution and so are we. What a dismal outlook we have. Of course, we have Green Peace. Up to now they have only caused more trouble than they are worth (my humble opinion). The green bit is OK, but they do not seem to be spreading very much peace: annoying Mr. Putin by climbing on one of his ships, and resulting in the imprisonment of a Swiss active member. If I decided to take things in hand and climb the walls of the Bundehaus (Swiss parliament) and scrawl words like “Down with the banks” or “Death to all Swiss Gnomes” I would probably be put in prison as well.

I know, I am not very good at politics that is why I usually avoid them.

The only invention I know at the moment is the bomb. Like drop it and no more humans left. Then there would be no pollution now would there? Life would begin again, the dinosaurs would arrive, take over, kill themselves by their own waste and eventually humans would arrive on the scene, the rescue squad. We would it all again and we would stand where we are today thinking “What shall we invent next, something to save the planet”, which returns us to the problem of the daily prompt.

It seems that the North Korean leader has just discovered how to rid his country of pollution. Just execute the problem. It now seems that thousands of high ranking Korean diplomats and government officials are packing their bags, deciding to leave the country as they are probably the next on the list. Mr. Kim Yong whatever, will probably put the light out, being the last one to go. He seems to have solved his country’s pollution problem, just kill it.

The Swiss invented the cheese fondue but this is no solution to world pollution. Admittedly the cheese smells quite strong when melting and there have been cases known of fires caused by an unattended rechaud (you know the little stove thing where it is cooked, powered by burning fuel). We also invented the Swiss Army Knife. What Boy Scout, handyman, survival expert would not be without one? My son had two for his military equipment. One was never used, kept shiny and clean for the equipment inspection and the second was used, so he did not have to bother about cleaning it. Whether this would be a solution to world pollution I do not know, but it has all sorts of uses. I even have one in the kitchen, you never know.

Switzerland is also the home of Absinthe invented in the area around Neuchatel, a powerful alcoholic drink which can help all to forget the pollution problems and if this is too strong, then the Swiss Birchermuesli invention will return you to good health. Of course let us not forget Swiss Army Chocolate, the saviour of our army and secret weapon.

Army Chocolate

In other words, all this drivel I am writing here leads nowhere really, so I will come to a close. It seems to me that perhaps the solution of the world pollution misery might lay in Swiss hands, definitely not in my daily prompt blog.

Daily Prompt: Necessity is the Mother of Invention

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13Dec2013

Daily Prompt: Daring Do

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

Tell us about the time you rescued someone else (person or animal) from a dangerous situation. What happened? How did you prevail?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us BOLD.

Chaffinch in flight

Every year in Winter when the days are frozen and cold, the ground is hard and solid and food and drink are scarce, numerous birds are rescued from death by starvation. The bird house is full with seeds and other birdy food delights. Every morning you see Mrs. Angloswiss dressed in a long thermally padded black coat battling her way through ice and snow in the garden. As she has only just finished her breakfast she has not had time to shower and dress, the birds cannot wait. It is a matter of life or death. Her slippered feet are no protection against the cold, so she keeps a pair of pink crocs (garden plastic clogs) in the outside cupboard for stepping across the frozen earth.

She reaches the bird house which is suspended on the branches of a leafless apple tree and lifts it from its place, her fingers circling around the metal holder and swears a few words as the metal is bloody cold and sharp. However, undaunted she returns to the cupboard where the goodies are kept for the flying population.

It might be that she encounters a feline on the way, who promptly disappears into the garden cupboard to play adventures in the dark.

“You mean me Mrs. Human.”

“Yes, Nera I mean you, always interrupting my journey.*

“I do not play adventures in the dark, but there are all sorts of creeping things in that garden cupboard to satisfy the delight of a feline.”

“Nera, you were the star of yesterday’s daily prompt, stealing the limelight from my writing talents, today it is my turn. May I continue?”

“Sorry Mrs. Human, go ahead, I am sure you have some wise words, but how someone can spend time on writing about feeding birds in the garden is a mystery to me. Birds are meals on wings.”

“NERA!”

“Ok, Mrs. Human, but you do resemble more a clown in a circus than a good Samaritan on a bird saving mission when you are doing your good deed for the day.”

I decided to ignore the last remark. As I was saying she battles her way to the food reserves and fills the bird house to the brim. She returns and fetches another mixture, scattering it under the tree for the birds that prefer to eat on the ground. The robins are not so sociable; like to eat alone at ground level. Sparrows and robins do not mix together. The blue tits prefer a suspended food supply and mainly eat from the hanging nets in the trees filled with food.

Gatherings of birds are often to be seen, probably when the chief bird calls in his sweet chirp “Grubs up birds” and they flock together and peck at the food.

And that is my daily good deed and rescue effort.

“Yes, Mrs. Human, if they do not die at the teeth of a feline, they die of a heart attack or overweight. We have the fattest best fed birds in the neighbourhood. The sparrows are slowly throwing shadows over the blackbirds and the branches are bending under their weight.”

“Nera be quiet, I am saving the future of our local bird population.”

Blue Tit feeding

Daily Prompt: Daring Do

Daring Pingbacks

Being honest the title is based on a remark made on one of my blogs by a supporter.
"You always turn a topic inside out and on its head" were words also applied by a visitor to one of my blogs. I think she hit the nail on the head.

Prompts are there to act on, not just tell everyone what you had for lunch or your likes and dislikes. I trust that on my blog you find something spiced with humour. Mr. Swiss, my other half, has been known to say that not everyone always understands my humour (I do not always understand his).

Blogging is for me coupled with having fun. I do what I want to and not what I have to.

Disclaimer: Not reponsible for any spelling or grammatical mistakes. I do my best, but having two langugages revolving in my brain (yes, I have one), sometimes the result is more bi- than unilingual.