Colour Your world: Cornflower

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I could not resist this one. It was on one of those advertising screens in the local supermarket, to advertise farmer’s produce. The shirt is typical Swiss material, strong and resistant to survive the rough farm work. Needless to say this is not a typical Swiss farmer, just one of the farm population posing for the photo. I was leaving the supermarket and saw this picture. I knew I must take a photo, but unfortunately it changed all the time, so I had to wait until this sheep’s head appeared again. In the meanwhile I lost Mr. Swiss, but I found him again waiting patiently outside the supermarket. He said the last time he saw me I was standing in front of an advertising screen.

The field is ready, Feldbrunnen

And now for something more normal. Taking a walk I found the light refelctions of the tree on the freshly mowed field interesting, In the distance the Jura Mountains and a cornflower blue sky

Colour Your World: Cornflower

Daily Prompt: Just Another Day – not quite

Our days our organized around numerous small actions we repeat over and over. What’s your favorite daily ritual?

snowdrops

Just another day in the Angloswiss household. Even the snowdrops were showing their heads, although this year some have disappeared. I planted 60 snowdrops around my buddleia bush centre piece in the garden, and just two small miniature green stalks have shown. Was it the snowless weather we had? Who knows, but I still have hope.

Otherwise the sun rose on the Angloswiss home. It was Thursday, a day to clean windows and the shower. Yes it is never boring at home with the Angloswiss, but just a moment. Mr. Swiss is already awake and in the shower. I can hear water rushing. Then I remembered, it is the day that the man is coming to clean the drains of our apartment complex. Of course, no big deal. The experts will be flushing at high pressure through the drains to ensure that they were blockage free. It seems that they will do it all, and those living in the apartments will not notice anything, with the exception of those living on the ground floor. Yes, that is us. We were warned to give up our keys to a neighbour if we would not be at home. Of course we are at home, we are golden oldies, and have nothing better to do in the early morning hours. Perhaps a doctor appointment, but today there was none.

I decided what’s the rush, turned over in my nice comfortable bed and slept on. My Moroccan kaftan would do the job when Mr. Drainman arrived. On the other hand, a made, aired bed would be bettter. It seems they would would have to enter our bathroom, shower and kitchen to ensure that there was no blockage. There was a small danger of a flood in these rooms through an unexpected backlash. They assured us this never happens in the modern buildings, but they have to be careful. In the meanwhile there was a ring at the door and our neighbour arrived. He was off to work (what’s work) and asked if we would take his key. He had forgotten to give it to the main in charge of the keys of absent residents on this day. Of course, no problem, we golden oldies are at home.

I then decided to arise, put on my kaftan, make the bed so that it looked respectable when the drain man arrived, plug in my iPad and Kindle for its daily charge of the batteries, and take my computer to the kitchen where I prepared breafast whilst catching up on computer things that had happened during the Angloswiss night. Same time, same place as every morning. The man did not arrive, so I altered my time table and proceeded to the shower. No kaftan to meet the man, but a clean body, dressed and ready to go and ….. still no man.

A woman’s work is never done, and I decided to clean the shower which I generally do on Thursday morning. Still no drain man – so I did my normal apartment clean through with vacuum cleaner, mop and all the trimmings. The man was still not here, he was more than an hour behind his promised schedule. Had he died in the meanwhile, drowned in an unblocked drain?

I do not wait for men to clean drains, and so I began to clean the windows (and frames, I always do the complete job). It was then that Mr. Swiss discovered I had eaten the remaining bread for breakfast and he would have to leave to buy bread. I told him to go, if the drain man has not yet cometh, it makes no difference. Mr. Swiss then took the situation in hand and phoned the drain man who was quite surprised, but full of apologies.

“Sorry, I made a mistake” he said “it is next week. Did your neighbour, the keeper of the keys for absent neighbours, not tell you.”

No he did not, but why bother, after all it was only the people living on the ground floor that had to open doors, show bathrooms, showers and kitchens, and run the risk of a back lash flood. Needless to say we were annoyed. The complete exercise again next week, although with a change. We will not get up early, we will do our normal day, and the drain men can begin in the cellar with their observations of flooding danger, and not in our appartment.

On the other hand I was finished with everything, including shower and window cleaning and could again retire to my bed for half an hour at 10.30 a.m. accompanied by my cat, Tabby, who was in need of a restful sleep, having only had 12 hours up to then, before beginning to cook lunch.

Daily Prompt: Just Another Day – not quite