Reeds in my garden in the evening light
Mushroom growing wild in my lawn
Reeds in my garden in the evening light
Mushroom growing wild in my lawn
Snap! what a word with a meaning or no meaning. What immediately came to my mind was a scene many years ago, playing with a schoolfriend, even younger, the first game I ever lernt to play was Snap.
“Deal the cards, are you ready?”
“Of course I am, you go first.”
“How come, I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re making “snap” noises.”
“But I didn’t say snap, because there wasn’t a snap.”
“If there was you would have said it first, because you was already begining to say the word. That’s not fair.”
“All is fair when playing cards. Put the next card on the heap now. Ssssssnnnnn”
“Stop it, you’re cheating.”
“I can play this game how I want to, and now the next card. SNAP.”
“No, I said it first.”
“You said nothing, and anyhow it wasn’t a proper snap.”
“Oh yes it was, look, two sixes and that makes a snap.”
“But you said it before it was there. They are my cards. Now it’s my turn to do it, but first I will shuffle the cards to make sure you don’t cheat again.”
“I am not cheating and what are you doing?”
“I’m mixing the cards.”
“But not like that, you don’t throw them in a heap and look at them before you put them together again. You have to shuffle them, I will show you.”
“No, take your hands off the cards. I won the last game and now they are mine.”
“Then deal them out and stop looking at the cards before you hand them out.”
“I am not looking at them, just organising them properly. So, let’s start again, you can go first.”
“Always I have to go first. That is typical, just so that you can have the first snap.”
“Stop complaining, just because you are losing.”
“I am not losing. Here is my first card. Your turn now. Stop looking at the card before you put it on the table.”
“I was not, it just slipped into my hand the wrong way up.”
“So, my turn and SNAP.”
“You was cheating, you took that card from the bottom of your cards and saw what it was before you put it down.”
“I did not.”
“I don’t like this game, you are a cow.”
“I am not.”
“You are and now my turn, to put out the cards.”
“This is getting boring, a whole pile of cards on the table and no snap.”
“But I’ve only got one card left.”
“So have I and no-one has a snap.”
“Then split the cards and do it again.”
“I’m going home to watch the TV.”
“But I just won all the cards.”
“Big deal, then keep them. You know what, I don’t like this game any more and I’m not playing it again with a loud mouth like you. Ow, stop pulling my hair.”
“Cry baby. Ouch, that kick hurt.”
“Children, what are you doing, I thought you were playing a nice little game of Snap. And the cards are all over the floor now. Stop crying.”
“I’m going home Mrs. Smith, your daughter is a cheat.”
“I am not, cheat yourself.”
Yes, who remembers those happy childhood days playing a nice little game of Snap with your favourite schoolfriend. Mr. Swiss said the game also exists in Switzerland known as “Schnipp, Schnapp”. If you didn’t get it, the idea is to put the next card in your hand on the table, and if your partner (or enemy) puts the same numbered card next to it, you call “snap” and win. Oh yes those were the days.
As I am sitting at the computer, and breakfast table, I am reflecting on my excursion yesterday afternoon. Nothing really special, but they do not let me out very often, and I was moral support for Mr. Swiss who brought our car to have the Winter tyres changed into Summer tyres to a garage in the nearbye village of Derendingen. A Swiss thing and advisable as if you might have an accident due to snowy conditions in Winter, the police will request a donation of a fine for not having the approapriate tyres. Anyhow as tyre changing takes a time Mr. Swiss and I took a walk, although walking in an industrial heavily populated area is not the best thing to do with the sun beating down
We eventually reached the village centre, which has a reputation of housing the most ladies of the street working population. There is one high rise block that is apparently only inhabited by this hard working population. Of course I just had to take a photo of this famous place. We had a coffee and Mr. Swiss said he would now walk back to the garage and I could wait in the restaurant or do something else with my time.
I decided to do something else and was already studying the nearby River Emme and two welcoming benches in the sun on the oppostite side of the road. Oh, and the photo, yes I happened to meet the owner of this wonderful English Bull Dog, and asked if I could take a photo. Of course the owner was proud to tell me all about this bull dog who could be quite unfriendly from time to time. I was lucky, he did not try to eat me.
So there I was all my own and an Indian gentleman approached me. How did I know he was an Indian? He spoke to me half in broken German and english, looked at me and said “You will have two good days from tomorrow”. He also had a blue cloth around his head to complete the picture. I can be very sociable, especially if I do not know what to do, so I replied in english of course. He was overjoyed as he had found a victim for his prophecies. Eventually I had a full report of the next week. Yes, there will be a couple of bad days, but everything will be fine. He decided I was a good listener, although I did not have anything better to do as to listen, and he explained that he is a fortune teller and all the trimmings. I let him ramble on. It was when he produced a photo showing hie 58 smiling children, that I knew the time was coming to reach for my purse. He was still very polite.
“I am in Switzerland to collect donations for my children. They are in a orphanage in India.”
“No, I do not donate and I must admit I also do not believe in prophecies.” was my answer. I must say he remained polite, did not break out in tears or place a curse, but then said goodbye and left. It was then that I saw out of the corner of my eye a young man sit on the next bench. When the Indian left me, he stood and approached me. I though, no, not another one, but this time the young man produced his police badge from his trouser pocket to show me and asked if I was bothered.
I told him, not at all, I am english and had a converstion with the Indian in English. He said he would follow him all the same to ask a few questions. He wanted to make sure.
“This resembles a TV film” I said to the policeman, who laughed. Mr. Swiss says everyone laughs at me, because I do not give typical Swiss answers.
After a while the policman returned. He saw me and said “Everything is OK”. I could have told him that, adding that I quite enjoyed the excitement. I was glad that the Indian gentleman was not arrested and I would not have pressed charges in any case.
It was then that I received a phone call from Mr. Swiss that he would be along in ten minutes and I departed on a walk along the river to shoot a few photos. Mr. Swiss was not astonished at my adventure, as he found you cannot leave me alone for five mintues without something interesting happening.
Je gratte, donc je suis
My "bump" was in 2016, aged 48, when I suffered a stroke. This blog charts my recovery. (Header clipart licensed by pngguru.com.)
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