Daily Prompt: Climate Control – The Weather affects your Mood? Never!

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

The idea that the weather and people’s moods are connected is quite old. Do you agree? If yes, how does the weather affect your mood?

Garden landscape

Everything has a purpose in life, even the climate. We live in a nicely organised regular climate controlled area. We have spring where the nature awakes and begins to shoot, accompanied with rain, wind and clouds, sometimes grey in grey and now and again sprinkled with spots of sun.

Then Summer arrives which we all long for: hot sun beating down, nature exploding, bees buzzing, stinging nettles stinging and the whole nature show. We clad sparely, sweat running down our brow and are often glad to escape into the shade with a cool drink or plunge into a swimming pool. One day in August we have had enough of this constant hot house and long for a cooling down period. If we are lucky it begins end of August with rose bushes losing their roses, mice hunting for a warm place to settle and when October arrives they are glad they found it.

The climate cools down, the leaf soldiers leave the trees (my felines call them leaf soldiers as they fight an eternal war with them when they drop to the earth sailing on the autumn winds) and gradually the luscious lawns transform themselves into muddy earth sludge, with some sparse tufts of grass poking through. This weather turmoil has not yet finished with us, Winter arrives with its cold icy breath, freezing rain into hanging icicles and eventually snow might will probably begin to fall. This is the year according to Switzerland and most of Europe, give or take a few extreme situations. Now that was a poetic flowery description – Pulitzer/Nobel are you reading me?

If you live in India or Africa, you will probably have hot sun, monsoons, and perhaps no rain. Not even having spent longer as a two week holiday on those continents, I will leave my brothers in blog to tell of their experiences.

Now we arrive at the tough part, does this affect your moods? Of course not, whether sun, rain, snow, hot or cold you adapt, at least I do. I can blog in any temperature. If it is a favourable day I sit outside on the porch. If it is winter, I sit inside shifting my computer to a favourable place, generally where I have peace and quiet and no jazz music in the background. Mr. Swiss and I are flexible and we change our direction according to whether we begin to annoy each other or not. I have absolutely no problem with the climate, sometimes I sweat and so I wear a t-shirt. If I am cold I wear a jacket, one of those old knitted memories of the days gone by where the woollen threads are frayed at the edge and smelling of kitchen memories, cosy and homely.

That is me, but now we have the Mr. Swiss case. He is weather-prone. We have a strong wind in Switzerland known as the “bise” which flows through the valleys, sweeps over the plains and even might err into the streets. It causes a nervous excitement so they say, at least for the people that are weather-prone. We should feel sorry for people that suffer under the “bise”. However, this is not a permanent condition. The next day the “bise” has disappeared and we are confronted with the “föhn”.

“Föhn” is another German word, which is also used for a hair dryer, so there we have it. A dry warm wind, which can, under circumstances for certain people, cause headaches, pains in the joints and a general “not feeling well” syndrome. Mr. Swiss suffers from this, as soon as the “bise” has disappeared, the “föhn” arrives and we are again steeped in gloom and doom. At least it is not my fault with my constant talking and loud voice; it is the “föhn”. I do my best to appease the suffering by perhaps trying to ignore the weather situation, although this is not easy. We hope for better days and an improvement in the weather.

Summer arrives and we have the so-called “dog-days”. I am now almost permanently on the porch with the shades down, still blogging and now and again taking a sip of water and wiping the sweat from my brow. Mr. Swiss is inside. The Swiss have discovered a super system for shielding the brain from these days of temperatures soaring to heights not suitable for weather sensitive people. The blinds are closed and you live in a nocturnal condition, an owl would be happy. Of course to accompany this, the windows are kept permanently shut, no waft of hot air is allowed to penetrate the human living quarters. As I have already fled to the porch, this is no problem for me. I would probably be in a claustrophobic state of mind if I did not have my porch. Mr. Swiss is happy; he is in his own darkened, airless world. Thank goodness for iPads, they have their own built in illumination.

Of course we have a daily weather forecast on the TV. This is followed closely in our home. Every word that the meteorologist utters is weighed in gold. Silence is observed during these precious fifteen minutes of the weather situation. If their prediction does not arrive the next day, it is obvious that they have chosen the wrong job, and are not suitable to be released on mankind. They tell us we will be having cirrostrata clouds and they develop into heavy headache causing storm clouds with strong gusts of wind. It is then clear that their calling in life is not meteorologist, but more a fortune teller: sometimes you guess right, but mostly you are mistaken. This is the Mr. Swiss verdict, and he is very rarely wrong.

In the meanwhile we have three felines. During the hot days, they are usually to be found curled up somewhere sleeping. When temperatures drop they will be relaxing on the stones on the porch, again sleeping. In Winter: we have floor heating, no problem. They are again sleeping each in their own area. Perhaps high on a cupboard, on a comfortable cushion or curled up on a bathroom carpet. They do not have moods, they adapt.

Mr. Swiss cannot adapt, so he bears the trials of the weather. Today we have sun, with a cool breeze. This seems to be the ideal Mr. Swiss climate. He has taken a walk along the county paths. This morning he was shopping but discovered that although the sun was shining it was colder than he thought and should have dressed warmer.

And me? I carry on despite the weather moods. Do not forget, I am originally British and we survive through everything. And if it really rains too much you might be lucky and a bloke with a long grey beard will begin building a large boat, known as ark, in your back yard. If this bloke resembles Russel Crowe and known as Noah, you have hit the jackpot. Just make sure that he lets you enter his boat and you no longer have weather problems.

Daily Prompt: Climate Control: The Weather Affects your Mood? Never!

30May2014

Daily Prompt: Futures Past, a Bird, Orchids and a few childish dreams – and my dad

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? How close or far are you from that vision?

New garden

I made this little bird happy when I adopted him the day before yesterday. He was sitting, forgotten and lonely in the corner of the flower department in the supermarket. He did not even have a price ticket on his sweet little claws, like his brothers and sisters. He was a blue bird and all the others were green, so he felt more left out, excluded from a happy life guarding his own territory and then I came along.

They had a special offer going for orchids. I collect orchids and I had one spare orchid container for another orchid. I now have the non-flowering collection outside on the porch hoping they will go forth and flower, but the flowering orchids are inside in the living room. Mr. Swiss was in a generous mood, which he always is really I suppose, coming to think of it. He pressed a twenty franc note in my hand and said buy one. They were half price (otherwise I would not have bothered) and I selected my orchid. In the meanwhile Mr. Swiss had disappeared outside the supermarket. He needed to breathe the fresh air of escape from the relentless traffic of trolleys filled with hunting trophies. It was the day before Ascension day when Switzerland has a national holiday, and everyone was buying food to cover the day of famine.

He did not actually say keep the change, although the orchids were only about eleven Swiss Francs. It was then love at first sight. The little blue bird looked at me with metal tears in his eyes and I pounced. A week ago my lawn in the garden had been transformed into a stone desert and he was the dot on the “i”. He had his price, nineteen Swiss francs. You see I was not being greedy. Mr. Swiss gave me twenty, I spent eleven on an orchid and nineteen on a metal bird, so I even donated about ten swiss francs myself, it was all in a good cause.

Another advantage was I spent more time than programmed in the flower department, so Mr. Swiss was impatient to go home. No questions asked “that’s a nice orchid” he said after a quick glance through the plastic bag, and then “What’s that?” followed noticing a mysterious clank when I settled the metal bird into the car boot. “Just something for the garden” and we drove off. He did ask “how much was the bird?” and I gave him a truthful answer “nineteen Swiss francs”, but no further questions were asked. The only problem was that my artistic arranging gift was questioned. He replaced the bird in the garden as I had it too near to the apartment window, but we are now all happy. The bird is happy, my orchid is happy amongst its brothers and sisters, and I turned twenty swiss francs into thirty, but only paid ten. Oh, we women are so clever.

Today was the day after the Swiss National holiday in the supermarket. The shoppers were ripping the food from the shelves, I even had to queue at the butcher’s counter for my meat and we forgot the milk and grit for the cat tray. Tomorrow is another day and Mr. Swiss will go on a quest tomorrow morning for the missing items. We still have two litres of milk and the felines can use the garden in the meanwhile.

And now to the prompt. I am sure you are all waiting to hear what I wanted to be when I was younger, the problem being I cannot really remember. I did not want to collect orchids or have a big metal bird in a garden. There was something about being rich I think, but we just made do. Then I really wanted to be a cowboy like the Lone Ranger, but without the mask. Of course I wanted a dog, something like Rin Tin Tin, but mum said no and when mum said no, dad usually agreed and living in a house built in 1884 with an outside toilet and no bathroom would not be the ideal place for a fully grown Alsatian. I wanted a cat, and I got one, but I was then eleven years old already. The only reason we had a cat, known as Whisky because he was black and white, the same name as the whisky brand, was because we had many lonely mice in the neighbourhood looking for a place to live. Mum did not like mice for some strange reason; she was actually terrified of them, so the cat moved in. I do not remember him ever killing a mouse, but she felt safe, so a childhood dream was half fulfilled, we had no dog, but a cat.

As I did not have visions, I cannot be close, but I succeeded in achieving a few that I never had. I think we have all been there and done that on my blog journey before so I will not bore you how I left the safe shores of England for foreign parts, known as Switzerland, met my rich Swiss banker, who was not a banker or rich, and ground the Swiss Family Robinson Angloswiss. My dream of becoming a well-known blogger is yet to be fulfilled. I once ordered a WordPress t-shirt, yes really – no joke. It arrived. I ordered the largest size possible, but discovered it was too tight to fit my contours. I have it. I complained and had the option to return it, but sending goods with TNT/UPS/DHL would have cost more than the original t-shirt, so if anyone would like a WordPress t-shirt in dark blue with white lettering, you can come and pick it up.

My dad is arriving home again in his apartment today. A week ago he was delivered into hospital, had a pacemaker fitted to his heart, terrorised us the main part of the week saying someone had stolen his telephone (he forgot he was in hospital) and someone stole his Swiss army knife (a present from Mr. Swiss, which he had not taken with him to hospital). Eventually he decided he could not walk any more. Two days ago this miserable state of golden oldie terrorism changed. He was moved from a single room to a ward with three other platinum oldies. Things started happening, and he no longer had time to worry. Thanks to my good friend in England, I had contact with him through my iPhone. He is 98 years old and of course he is always right. I am always right, I am in training. I will be 68 years old this year, so just imagine the nuisance I will be if I reach 98, but one thing I know, I will still be blogging. I might start my own blogging group, “Blogging with the Golden/Platinum Oldies”.

Have a nice week-end – see you all on the flip side.

Daily Prompt: Futures Past, A Bird, Orchids and a few childish Dreams – and my Dad

29May2014

Daily Prompt: Trick Questions – I was being interviewed?

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

A Pulitzer-winning reporter is writing an in-depth piece – about you. What are the three questions you really hope she doesn’t ask you?

Three cats waiting to go out

“I think she’s arriving” Nera the long black furred chief feline was perched on the table and had a good view.

“Yes” said Tabby and Fluffy, “how exciting. Mrs. Human, she’s heeeeere.”

“Felines what are you doing at the window.”

“We wanted to be the first to let you know, the Pulitzer prize lady has just got out of her car. A black Mercedes with Pulitzer written in gold letters on the side. Now it was worth your visit to the hairdressers and dressing in your smart costume, the one with the Dior label inside. Although Mrs. Human, let’s be honest, you got the label in the local bazaar and sewed it on yourself.”

“Felines hold your whiskers. This is my interview, go and play with a bird in the garden.”

“We do not play with birds, we eat them and now no time. She is ringing the doorbell. Shall we……”

“No felines, we will not. I will open the door.”

There she was Jayne Fitz Millington, the famous Pulitzer Prize judge, visiting me for an interview. Perhaps this is my big chance.

“Good Afternoon, you must be Mrs. Angloswiss and look, they are definitely your wonderful gifted cats. Nera you look even more beautiful that your photos in Internet.”

I stood on one side to let the lady enter, but she was busy shaking Nera’s paw.

“And that must be Tabby your assistant and Fluffy, the apprentice: what lovely felines you are and so clever.”

“Can I take your coat?” I asked and she threw it in my direction and took a seat in the living room.

“How are you felines?” she continued. “I hope you are all in good health and are being treated well. I brought three tins of tuna fish with me. I am sure Mrs. Angloswiss will open them for you. I also brought three Pulitzer engraved dishes for the meal. Such aristocratic felines deserve to eat in style, don’t you agree Mrs. Angloswiss?”

I was honoured; she actually spoke to me and looked in my direction.

“Now for the interview: do you mind if I ask a few private questions?”

“No problem” I said, glaring at my three cats, who were now munching the tuna fish I had placed in the special black dishes with Pulitzer engraved in gold lettering on the side. This seemed to be the trade mark of Pulitzer. Even Fitz Millington was dressed in a black costume with edging in gold. Her matching blouse was golden coloured with black letters embroided with “Pulitzer” on the pocket.

“I was wondering Mrs. Angloswiss, where did you find such wonderful felines. Our pubic so love to read of their adventures and your experiences with them.”

“We decided to adopt Mrs. Angloswiss” said Nera “it was the best offer we had and she is so gifted with emptying the cat tray. Hardly leaves a trace in the surroundings. Yes, we are proud to use it for our recycling process.” Tabby and Fluffy nodded in approval.

I opened my mouth to perhaps correct the last comment, when the reporter continued.

“I heard that Mrs. Angloswiss supplied you all with pawpads to facilitate entrance into Internet to write your gifted thoughts about felines and the world.”

Tabby now answered. “Yes, we borrowed her credit card and paid online for them. We always like to spare Mrs. Human the extra work with us. We have so much to be grateful for.”

At last I was getting a mention.

“Not only does she clean our tray, but supplies us with vitamin enriched food to maintain our good health. In Winter she also ensures that the birds are regularly fed in the garden and has a feeding station hanging in the tree.”

“Oh, that is so kind, and I am sure the birds are thankful.”

“And so are we felines” answered Fluffy, licking her lips.

Jayne Fitz Millington now turned in my direction. Now was my big chance for the long deserved mention, a prize for my talents. She began.

“Mrs. Angloswiss, do you think I could have a glass of water?”

“Mrs. Human you are neglecting our guest. I am sure she would be glad for a glass of sparkling wine, we have a bottle of champagne cooling in the refridgerator” said Nera.

“Oh, yes please. How thoughtful of you Nera. And you will also partake of a glass?”

I was just about to say “yes of course” thinking she was asking me to join, when Nera continued.

“We felines do not drink alcohol, it blurs our senses when on the hunt, but perhaps a saucer of milk diluted with Vichy water and laced with a pinch of catmint?”

What chance did I have. I put a brave face on it as I prepared three saucers of catmint milk naturally diluted with Vichy mineral water.”

They say time goes so fast when you are having fun, and Mrs. Fitz Millington left after drinking three glasses of champagne which I served.

We were then alone again, the interview behind me. I breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Well Mrs. Human, that went well. I am sure you might get a mention in the next Pulitzer Prize list, we felines made sure the interview would be a success.” and Nera was having an ear scratch.

I was not so sure about my talents at last being acknowledge with their deserved recognition, but Nera did get an personal invitation to the next prize giving ceremony with a mention to bring Tabby and Fluffy as well. It said that Mrs. Angloswiss should accompany the felines as they cannot drive a car – yet.

Daily Prompt: Trick Questions – I was being interviewed?

28May2014

Daily Prompt: Mutants and Hybrids – Who do you think you are?

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

If you were one part human, two parts something else — another animal, a plant, an inanimate object — what would the other two parts be?

Berta sky flower

And what makes WordPress so sure that I am one part human? Have I not proved in my mystifying blog writings that I possess more than the average member of the human species. With my sharp black humour, cutting through the flesh of the prompt, I am somewhat from another dimension, hovering over the daily prompt landscape, my brain exploring every nook and cranny of the mutant world of the Daily Prompt. Are there humans behind this daily challenge or something uncanny, engulfing us in a make believe world and eventually taking over our brain? Have we already become the Daily Prompt Zombie and not even realising, feeding from the flesh of our fellow bloggers. Think about it today after completing your contribution, when the sweat is still damp upon your brow, and your thoughts are drained and empty. There is something strange afoot. Here is the real truth behind Mrs. Angloswiss, if you can bear it.

Do you really know me? Do you think I am a so-called “normal” person, of flesh and blood, with faults and perfections. The photo above was taken a few years ago before I mutated into my human shape. Probably most of us were something else in the days gone by. Yes, I was a bluey. My hands and feet may seem a little on the large side, but they were very useful. I needed no bus, train or car. Just a few steps in the right direction and I had arrived. My hands were everywhere in the supermarket, who needs money. When they saw me coming, they disappeared. I was alone to take what I wanted. It seemed that the others even feared my appearance. Mummy and daddy were always telling me to keep away from the humans, they mean no good and everything that is a little different is condemned to a solitary life, being ignored. “You never have friends amongst the humans if you are a bluey” were their words.

It was true, no-one wanted to know me and eventually I turned to stone and was perched outside the library in the Swiss town of Solothurn, being photographed for the local newspaper and generally the town attraction. Inside my heart was still beating to the rhythm of the words “let me free, let me free”. One night, I think it was midnight, there appeared a person wearing a white t-shirt with the letters “I love WordPress” written in black letters across the front. “Join me, have a t-shirt like mine and you can live again, on the condition that you write a daily prompt once a day” he said.

I blinked my large white eyes and turned my head in his direction (it was midnight, and things always seem to happen at midnight). He threw a brick in my direction, part of the magical grid, he told me and I could breathe. There I was standing on my legs with normal sized feet and hands, wearing a t-shirt just like my rescuer. He put a laptop into my hands and said “go forth and blog”, so I did, but not before I asked for a different t-shirt.

So there you have it, I have now mutated into a human, but inside I remain “Fat Berta” as I was known in my previous state. I am now Mrs. Angloswiss and when I met Mr. Swiss my fate was sealed. We were meant for each other. He too was something else once. He was a gnome in a Swiss bank. He lost his job as the profits were not arriving as they should and he was then falling in love with Fat Berta who he saw from the window of the bank. It was love at first sight. At the midnight hour we sometimes take a walk together in the local cemetery. The ghouls, ghosts and vampires like us, we are all members of the outcasts, something completely different.

You do not believe this? Just think about it the next time you see your blog appearing as a brick in the grid, are we really just another brick in the wall not needing thought control. Ask the daily prompt.

Daily Prompt: Mutants and Hybrids – Who do you think you are?

27May2014

Weekly Writing Challenge: List Lesson

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

Things your felines should know

Tabby

Bastet did not exist, he was just a story made up by the Egyptians.
Felines were never worshipped as Gods, the statues just looked good for the history books.
That feline is not your sister. It was just a coincidence she was born with you in the same litter. She had a different father because mummy was feeling randy.
Spraying in the garden might impress other felines, but it does not impress the humans that you own.
You do not really own the humans, that adopted you but they let you think you are in charge.
Humans are not there for the sole purposes of keeping your tray clean.
Kneading on your human with protruded claws pulls threads in their pullover.
Vitamin filled pellets are healthier than tinned tuna fish.
Jersey sheets are not suitable for sharpening claws, they have to be thrown away when they have holes.
The toilet is not an extra supply of vintage water.
Dogs are equal to felines, they just think differently.
Humans like to know when felines are planning to return from a walk. They worry.
Resting on a snail should be avoided. They stick to the fur.
You know when your human loves you if they let you sleep on their bed, but you will sleep on their bed if you want to in any case.
If your human gives a command, it is not to be ignored or forgotten and above all just do not think about it and report back after a few hours.
Sleeping on clean washing is not hygienic for human use, but probably the ideal sleeping place for a feline.
It is not the idea to sleep for 23 hours and spend the remaining hour looking for a place to sleep.
The table leg is not a scratching post.
If you have a hairball moment, spend it on a washable surface and not a carpet.
If you have to take medicine, then it is good for you. Do not spit it out or hiss and try to amputate the human finger with your teeth in the process.
Every bite on a human is rewarded by a visit to the doctor for a tetanus jab.
Love your vet and do not scratch, bite or hiss. He is doing his best to cure you of all your ailments and is expensive.

Weekly Writing Challenge: List Lesson – Things your Felines should know

27May2014

Daily Prompt: Finders, Keepers? – The paths are strewn with souvenirs if you are lucky

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

While walking on the beach you stumble on a valuable object buried in the sand — say, a piece of jewelry or an envelope full of cash. What do you do with it? Under what circumstances would you keep it?

Glass

We do not have beaches in Switzerland, at least not with an ocean to accompany it. We have lakes that have beaches and the only things that might get washed up are empty cans, bottles and food wrappers. The jewellery and money are all nicely kept in the banks.

However, we do not despair, a Swiss active pastime on holidays is hiking: walking on paths through forests, up and down mountain slopes and it might be that something is laying on the wayside waiting to be found.

Some years ago when the kids were still kids and Mr. Swiss and I were active members of the human race, we went on such holidays in the Swiss mountains. One of our favourite places was the village of Gstaad. Your might have heard of it. It is where the rich and famous spend their holidays in their luxury chalets or five star hotels and they are waited on hand and foot by the normal people. The village has quite a few shops, mainly in the exclusive line of things. If you want caviar for tea or smoked salmon for breakfast, they have it. They have shops selling exclusive watches which only the rich can buy. Of course there is also a supermarket for the common people. Curd Jürgens, Gunter Sachs, Julie Andrews, Roman Polanski are just a few of the chalet owners of Gstaad, their chalets resembling wooden palaces. I have been there and seen it all and it is a pleasant Sunday afternoon walk in the exclusive areas where the gardeners are busy attending to the gardens which resemble parks.

Of course there are normal working people, as me and the family, that spend their holiday in a rented chalet somewhere on the edge of the village that can perhaps afford the cost for two weeks. That is the situation, so what does family working class do during the day? We go for walks in the countryside, all the paths nicely marked with a yellow sign. Yellow means for the beginners. If you stumble upon a red and white marked path, then ensure that you are wearing hiking boots for a good grip, as that would be a mountain path. Basically we all wore hiking boots with nice thick comfortable socks to keep a grip, whether a footpath or mountain path.

It happened one day that family Angloswiss with two sons departed around tenish in the morning (we liked to take it easy, no six o’clock morning tours for us) and took a planned march to one of the smaller mountains. They are not all snow-capped, that is reserved for the mountaineers. On the way Mr. Swiss made an exclamation. I checked to see that he had not fallen into a crevasse in the rocks and broken his leg. This was not the case he was standing quite firmly on the ground with a watch in his hand.

“Look what I found on the path” he said “it is quite a nice watch, but not such an expensive watch” and he put it on.

“You are not planning to keep that watch, it must belong to someone” was my answer, thinking of the owner now furtively searching in the nooks and crannies of the Bernese Overland for his timepiece.

“I cannot see anyone looking for it” said Mr. Swiss. I could not believe my ears, thinking of a tired wanderer without a watch. Before I could reprimand Mr. Swiss, we heard footsteps coming closer and a family approached us with their noses turned towards the ground, obviously searching.

“Are you looking for this?” asked Mr. Swiss.

“Yes” they answered with thanks in their voices: not exactly tears in their eyes, but it was only an average watch and not exactly a Patek Philippe, Rolex or Cartier. They thanked us for finding the watch, not knowing that it almost became a holiday souvenir: after all, you can always use a new watch. You do not just throw them away and let people find them, leading them into temptation.

There was another occasion; this time also in Gstaad (yes the paths are strewn with keepsakes in this mountain village) and family Angloswiss were marching to the Launersee, and well-known lake in the area. On the way we decided to take a rest on a bench. They often plant benches on these paths for tourists dying of thirst or exhaustion. It was my turn, I found a camera on the bench. Before someone could say anything, I put it in the rucksack (another part of the tourist uniform) and told Mr. Swiss when we reach the restaurant I will ask the waitress if a customer had missed a camera. We arrived safe and sound at the restaurant: I remember there was even a Puma helicopter parked there from our army, the crew probably wanted a beer before flying further: or was it just for the tourists?

We ordered our refreshments and I told the waitress of the camera. Did she thank me, did she praise my honesty? She told me I should have left it where it was as the owner would return to find it. It was none of my business to take it with me and I was being very stupid. Oh yes, we Swiss are so logical when it comes to honesty. I was speechless (a rarity for me), but said nothing. Mr. Swiss was ready to say something, but we kept our remarks for afterwards. After returning to the village of Gstaad I called in at the police station, manned by one solitary policeman, and gave him the camera. He thanked me and took my particulars. I think he was the only policeman in Gstaad as an hour later I saw him directing the traffic on the main road.

I thought no more of this event. After a few days we returned to life in the lowlands, with some happy memories of two weeks spent in the Bernese Overland, the playground of the rich. I received a telephone call from the camera owner, praising my honesty and happy to have his views of the mountain scenery and family again. He even wanted to reward me. It is actually custom; almost law, in Switzerland to refund 10% of the value of lost property. This is something I have never claimed as I find it insulting. The man who had lost the camera showed his gratitude with some sort of gift, I think either chocolate or a bottle of wine by post.

So there you have it, the Swiss are an honest nation basically, if you find the owner of the lost property otherwise, we are just human.

Daily Prompt: Finders, Keepers? The Paths are strewn with Souvenirs if you are lucky

26May2014

Daily Prompt: A Name for Yourself – Long live Angloswisslogical

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

Some writers’ names have becomes adjectives: Kafkaesque, marxist, Orwellian, sadistic. If your name (or nickname, or blog name) were to become an adjective, what would it mean?

African daisies

I am famous, I am known in the world of blog, they want my name to appear describing my great works of blog. This is so exciting, I must take a copyright out on this unique adjective, although I do not know if Kafka did this with his. I think he was already dead, so perhaps I have to die first before it is applied to my works of literature.

Yes the angloswisslogical works will be known worldwide. They drip with logic, the beads of perspiration from my brow giving sustenance to their abundance. How else could it be? Although some may say I am not being logical, more bragging, but they are the unfortunate, those who begrudge every angloswisslogical word that I use almost bordering on that ugly word “jealousy”.

I cannot remember the origin of the gifted talent I have. It just came to me one day whilst I was sitting at my computer dreaming of my fight to fame, casting my talents to the daily prompt and knowing that only the angloswisslogical style would produce the necessary results. Many were the skeletons strewn in my path which I kicked aside, overcoming these obstacles and spreading the bones of decay on one side.

Perhaps my terminology is too advanced for many. We are not all gifted with such writing talents as I am. Unfortunately the Pulitzer/Nobel people have not yet discovered me, but it can only get better. Perhaps the word ”angloswisslogical” overwhelms the realm of literature with its impact. I know, brothers and sisters of WordPress, it is difficult to become famous alongside such great capacities as myself, but do not despair. I will send you all, free of charge, a copy of my first best seller when it is written.

It makes me sad that perhaps my adjectival title will only be used when I am no longer with you, but I will be watching from another place on a higher level. There will be introductions in my novels explaining the angloswisslogical words and themes applied to the story. They will be celebrated and loved by all that read my works. I can hear them now “Did you read the angloswisslogical last words in the drama written by this genius? They are a veritable milestone in the progress of literature.”

I can see my memorial before my eyes.

“Here lays Angloswiss, inventor in the angloswisslogical sense of the word.
Her works were given to mankind.
They are left to be judged and celebrated by all.

www angloswiss-chronicles com

May she rest in the world of Angloswisslogic”

or something like that. I want it in gold lettering on a black marble stone for all to see. Perhaps a statue where I am holding my first successful book on the summit of the pyramid. Did I forget to tell you, I decided on a pyramid, makes a better impression.

In the meanwhile I am still amongst you, distributing my angloswisslogical words and wisdom, daily.

Viva angloswisslogical; I rest my case..

Daily Prompt: A Name for Yourself – Long live Angloswisslogical

25May2014

The Return of the Firebugs

Posted in Blogs by angloswiss

Firebugs

I was on an inspection tour of the garden and heard quite a commotion.

“Hey human, be careful where you tread. We only arrived today and are getting used to things. “

Then I saw them, a whole bunch of little Firebugs.

“Well you are a bunch of sweet little things. Do you mind if I take a photo.”

“You mean a photo that everyone can see, a real Kindergarten photo. Oh yes, that would be nice. When we are older and get our nice black patterns you can reflect on how we were when we were fresh and ready to go.”

“Don’t you feel a little abandoned, all on your own, with no mummy and daddy to look after you.?”

“No, we are born with instinct and do not need anyone to tell us what to do. We stick together and follow our neighbour. Our parents are not so far away and are keeping a watch over us. Who would want to hurt a baby firebug? We are just doing our thing.”

“What is your thing.?”

“We eat seeds and sleep at the moment and sometimes we meditate.”

“You meditate?”

“Yes, about life and the preservation of the species. We are many brothers a sisters, and when we grow up we will be mummies and daddies and have children. We might only be here for a year or two but that’s the way the cookie seed crumbles as we say in firebug talk.

“Is this human bothering you children” and a parent Firebug arrived.

“No, not at all dads, she is taking our photo and was wondering why we were alone.”

“A firebug is never alone” said the parent “ we live in groups and now leave our children to grow up. After walking around with my wife for three days to ensure the future generation, we parents need some peace and quiet. “

“I must admit I had seen them doing their firebug dance over the past few weeks in the garden and now the babies had arrived. When I looked further I saw the parents having a rest between the stones. I decided to leave them to do their firebug thing.

Firebugs

25May2014

Daily Prompt: Break the Silence – What Silence?

Posted in Challenges by angloswiss

When was the last time you really wanted (or needed) to say something, but kept quiet? Write a post about what you should’ve said.

Im Reich der Sinne 08.05.1008

This is what they did to me when I could not keep quiet. They could not find a bandage large enough for my big mouth, so they decided when I could not see it, I did not know what it was and made no remarks. Honestly are WordPress putting testing me? My famous last words on the forums make a mark on the blogging landscape, I cannot keep it for myself. The last remark spread over two pages and eventually I gave up as one of the experts together with an assistant expert took over the conversation and I was left out in the cold. Actually it was a photo taken at one of our first aid helper training evenings. We were studying the senses and had to eat something but could not see it, so we were blindfolded. Not that you think the Swiss are employing methods to get the truth out of you. You cannot hide anything in Switzerland, even if you want to build a hut in the garden you have to get planning permission.

What is “kept quite”? I do not even think those words exist in the polyglot tongues that I speak, or I just missed them out, although I do have a sort of inborn defect. I grew up in the big city (London) with lorries thundering past at all times, street criers selling their goods on the market “two for a penny missus, and all the best” etc. etc. and you had to make yourself heard, otherwise you would have been ignored. The only time I was ever silent was during the day when my dad was on night work and he was sleeping. I think mum would have shut my mouth up forever if I had even breathed too loudly, dad’s sleep was holy. Luckily I was at school or at work most of the day so I did not have to keep my mouth shut.

I grew up in a loud family so I blame it on the genes. Mum had a loud voice – she had two sisters and they were often engaged in shouting competitions. I think the winner was Aunt Annie, or was it Aunt Lil. My mum was the youngest so I suppose it was the hierarchy that counted. There was one brother, but he seemed to let the women get on with it. This was coupled with a dad that served on the heavy canons in the Second World War and returned home, but with a slight hearing defect. No-one really noticed that he did not hear so well, until we had this new-fangled telephone thing. It would ring for at least five minutes and we thought he ignored it until we discovered that he did not really hear it so well. When we had the additional bell fixed up in the hall, the whole street heard the telephone ring and sometimes even dad did.

Dad worked in a loud factory all his life, so things did not improve. It was just a case of speaking a little louder. Now he is 98 years old. His hearing has not improved, but it is just a matter of getting used to things and talking to him in a loud clear voice. When he says “yes” after every word you say, you know he does not hear, so just say it again.

These are the facts, and so I was at a disadvantage from the beginning. It was a question of survival, say what you want to say in a loud clear voice. What is the point of keeping quiet about it, you might be ignored and left on one side. It can be that this might become an annoyance in my surroundings, people not really wanting or needing a loud voice, or not really wanting my opinion, although there are times when I can be quite silent: one of the reasons why my blogging episodes are so popular. When I am writing my prize winning masterpieces for the WordPress world (copy to Blogger world) my brain is talking, an internal thing. I have to train my lines of thought into a pattern. I am sure Charles Dickens and even Charles Bukowski (what is he doing here?) would agree. There are times to be silent and times not to be silent (now I know what Bukowski is doing here).

And now to something completely different: I was very concerned over the past two days about my 98 year old dad. I wrote in my blog that he had had a fall, was in hospital and has now been fitted with a pacemaker. Yesterday he was very confused. I have a wonderful dear friend, from my school days, who looks in on him for me now and again because I am so far away. She is visiting him in the hospital once a day and now takes her mobile phone with her. I can now call her at an arranged time and speak to my dad on the phone, as English hospitals do not have phones for the patients in the rooms. My dad now feels a lot better, and realises what has happened. The first two days were just too much for him, his daily routine being mixed up. He realises that he has a pacemaker and now feels a lot better. I had a shouting match with him on the mobile phone and it worked very well, so tomorrow at the same time my friend said. She is a gift for me at the moment and I know when I go to London I can always stay at her house. There are some people you meet on the path of life that are blessings in disguise and she is definitely one of them.

Daily Prompt: Break the Silence – What Silence?

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.