Daily Prompt: No Tattoo, but a new bird in the garden

Do you have a tattoo? If so, what’s the story behind your ink? If you don’t have a tattoo, what might you consider getting emblazoned on you skin?

As a golden oldie I do not think so. On the other hand having a tattoo at the age of 68 would mean that I would not have so many years left to live with it, if I no longer wanted it. There is also the advantage that approaching the years when you tend to forget, I could have my name, address and telephone No. (and of course web site www) engraved on my arm. Should I be found wandering in the streets, It would be easier to discover where to return me, but I would have to ensure that Mr. Swiss also has such a tattoo. He is older than me, it would be a quicker job, as he has no web site.

Today Mr. Swiss and I were again on a hunting excursion for food and other things. After the spoils had been found, I was left to deal with the financial details at the cash desk. Mr. Swiss had other important things to do, like a visit to the kiosk and made an appointment to meet me outside the entrance to the supermarket. As usual my financial dealings were not so straight forward as I knew the lady doing the cash business and so we exchanged a few words. I also decided to hand in one of my 2x vouchers, meaning that I got double Cumulus points on the value of the goods I had bought. This has a purpose, as at the end of the month the cumulus points cumulate (which is to be expected) and I receive tokens in the shape of goods value to exchange at the cash desk. Are you with me? The women definitely are, the men might be left still trying to work it out.

Eventually I descended the escalator to meet Mr. Swiss outside. It was then I saw him clutching an overlarge plastic bag with a metal head peeking out of the top. Before I arrived Mr. Swiss had sneaked into the gardening department near the entrance and fulfilled one of my secret wishes and here he/she is.

New Bird in the garden

The first time I saw this wonderful creature I knew it was made for my garden. It was the dot on the gardening “i”. However when I saw the price label I decided to wait a while. Mr. Swiss is not too keen on my ideas of garden decoration. He has a somewhat more conservative taste than mine. I am more into flashy colours and something to make an impact on the neighbours. It was only yesterday that I noticed that some decorative colleagues of this wonderful work of garden art had been moved to the table where it said “half price”. I asked the lady serving (another one of my shop assistant contacts who sometimes works in the butchers department) if there might be a possibility that these wonderful fantastic metal birds with the moving eyes and neck, which were attached on a spring, might also one day soon be reduced in price. She answered that she did not know, but would think of me if it would become the case.

All this is now not necessary, the man of 46 marriage years of my life was standing waiting for me near the entrance to the supermarket holding my bird. in a plastic bag. We carefully put it in the car boot to ensure it would stay safe during the home journey. At home he was placed in his new permanent place. We found it would be necessary to fix his delicate feet with a stone in the case that a puff of wind might blow him over and he would be injured. I had to remove my metal frog to make room for this work of art, but the frog did not mind. He is now in the back garden getting friendly with my green caterpillar model. Yes, my garden is slowly resembling a sculpture exhibition.

And so another day passed in the villa Angloswiss. There seemed to be quite a discussion in my front garden. I think my new bird was getting acquainted with my meerkat model, my tiger and a few other feline items. Of course he was quickly on friendly terms with my smaller metal bird. Mr. Swiss did mention that the garden is now full and there is no room for more. On the other hand I am sure when Autumn approaches there might be a model of a hedgehog that would suit my garden.

Daily Prompt: No Tattoo, but a new bird in the garden