Flower of the Day: 19.05.2016 Geranium

Geraniums 17.05 (1)

Geraniums 17.05 (3)It is according to what you understand by geranium. We imagine the big flowering plants that most people have in a window box or container, usually red, with large flower heads, but the original geranium is small and comes in various colours. I have a bed of these geraniums in mauve and pink. Up to now the pink ones are flowering, the others will follow, I hope. For information this kind is known as “Storchenschnabel” in german, literally translated meaning “stork beaks”.

Flower of the Day: 19.05.2016 Geranium

Cee’s Black and White Photo Challenge: Tongues and Tails

Nera yawning

Nera, Tabby’s litter sister: the only feline they had to pack in a black bag before giving her a jab  – she was quite indignant about being prodded in her private parts.

Dog at the station
The dog preferred to remain anoymous.

Fluffy having a wash

Fluffy, my blind Selkirk Rex feline that left us for the enternal corn chambers about a year ago.


I think it was almost milking time when I took this photo.

Black and White Photo Challenge: Tongues and Tails

Daily Prompt: Pensive

I am always thinking about the meaning of life, the meaning of hoovering, even the meaning of cooking. Sometimes I even think about the meaning of writing a blog every day, probably because it is there. This morning I almost had a breakdown, I had nothing to think about. On Monday I had cleaned the widows, Tuesday the bathroom and doors, Wednesday the kitchen and shower, there was nothing left to do. Of course these are daily tasks on the side, but the detailed process also takes place once a week. I then stopped to think, why? Is there a deep transitional movement hidden in the shadows of my destiny. I am programmed, is there perhaps an ethereal power that decides to gear my thought process. What shall I do, there was a bottomless pit beneath my pensive thoughts It was an eternal void to infinity, but there must be more to life than just being there and doing it all. I decided action was the answer to this pit of doubts and boredom and the fresh air would do me good and bring me to another interllectual level.

It was time to take a walk in the garden with my camera bringing  my thought to another junction, like a train following the rails and now and again stopping at stations to let thoughts to embark and disembark. I was shooting various views of my hostas with the camera. They are also following their path in life, growing and expanding. When I observed the results of my photography, I noticed something on one of the photos.


I am sure you can see them, two bare feet poking from beneath the hosta leaves. Someone was hiding, perhaps a lost creature searching for a home, somewhere to be loved and looked after. On the other hand it could be a threat to my existence. Whatever it was had moved into my garden with intentions. I decided to take another look.

hostaThe feet had disappeared. That could not be. My thoughts were confused. Whatever this threat to my existence was, could move. Perhaps it was only taking a walk around the garden, to keep its circulation alive. They were bare feet that I saw, and it must have been cold for this creature on the bare stones surrounding my hosta plantation. I read somewhere that there were suspicions of life existing on another planetary system. Perhaps this was an invasion. Undaunted I proceeded with my investigations in the garden. It was thenI heard a rustling between the hosta leaves. I was not longer debating the meaning of just life, but my life.  You never know what is lurking in the garden. Last week I saw a slug barring its 300 teeth sharpening them on a stalk. There are dangers beneath every leaf.

And then…….

hostaI heard a laugh, something resembling one of those laughs you hear when visiting a fun fair on the ghost train. It was hollow, with a whining echo, it was laughing at me. I decided it was now or never, and looked in the direction of the noise and then I saw it. Bright beady eyes looking in my direction, sunk into its bulging cheeks, pale and firm. It was laughing, it had a smirk on its face, it was making a fool of me. It was then I heard a deep voice and footsteps approaching.

“I hope you don’t mind but I though I would shift our garden dwarf  to a differnt place amongst the hostas. You seemed to be sunk in pensive thoughts and did not notice I had arrived.  The hosta leaves had grown so fast, it was a shame that our ornament could no longer be seen.”

Mr. Swiss had entered the scene of the crime. I again regarded my monster more intensely. Of course, it was Fred, my faithful garden ornament. My pensive thoughts had been on a walkabout and I forget him completely. Mr. Swiss had brought me back to reality.  Fred had been living in the cellar during the Winter months. His new abode had been outnumbered by hosta leaves. I cast a glance in the direction of Mr. Swiss.

“No problem, that’s OK” I said, putting a brave face on it all.

That is the trouble with being sunk in thought, you somehow lose the connection to reality on the way.

Daily Prompt: Pensive

Good Morning


This morning I am turning my back on you. No, not really: Mr. Swiss was in a photographic mood with my iPhone and took a photo to show that I still have some original dark hairs left on my head from the good old days before I turned pepper and salt, although there is now more salt than pepper. It is only the edge at the back with the remains of the years gone by. I had a super short haircut last week. My lobeless ears are also quite prominent, the sign of murderers and criminals it seems.

This morning I took some revenge shots of Mr. Swiss at the computer. I found the light reflection of the screen gave him a mysterious glow on the face. Unfortunately my camera decided to do long exposure, which is not so good when you are a golden oldie with shaking hands early in the morning. I will have to photo shop them.

Marcel - goat moth caterpillarMr. Swiss was quite adventurous with the camera yesterday. He went for a walk, whilst I was busy composing a new work of literature for my blogs, and returned full of enthusiasm for a photo he shot on the way of a centipede. Ok, he was never the born David Attenborough and so it can happen that he tends to confuse centipedes with caterpillars. I discovered that there is a hidden talent somewhere and I took a closer look. I went on a search through the files of the computer, but he beat me to it. We are now looking at the first  stage of the life of a Goat Moth. Mr. Swiss told me he had never seen such a monster caterpillar, at least 10 centimeters long and this seems to be normal for this species. They live the first five years of their baby life on tree trunks burrowing and devouring what they find. As the digestive process is quite complicated, chewing pieces of tree throughout your infancy, it takes 5 years until they develop into the monster goat moth.  I also read that these catepillars are considered a delicacy in Finland, fried with butter and garlic. In Switzerland we just take photos, at least Mr. Swiss does.

Iris 18.05 (1)Another event of the day was that my iris decided to flower. They were one of the first I bought, 18 years ago to plant in my then new garden. There were only three rhizomes, or whatever they are called. After a year I decided to shift them into the front garde, where they have remained since. They have multiplied and spread and are now quite respectable taking up a large part of one of my flower beds.

I remember my garden in the East End of London which was small. The neighbours had chickens but my grandad seemed to have discovered flowers now and again when he was at home recovering from his exertions at the local pub. We had a yellow iris with red edges. Had I then been older, I was only a kid at the time, I would have realised what a rare plant this was as they are the wild variety. They disappeared with our old house which was eventually qualified as “slum” and I have no photos to prove their existence. I saw the same variety in the town  of Solothurn next to my village, growing on the banks of a stream. Such are memories that you have.

Today is a day of rest (for me). My apartment is shining, there is nothing to do except watch the raindrops fall outside. Breakfast is finished and I can hear the merry sounds of a lawn mower somewhere.

Keep blogging, and remember if you see a harmless sweet little,  caterpillar, 10 cm long,  let it live. It may one day grow into a beautiful goat moth that will cast a shadow when it flies over looking for its next meal, although I also read that goat moths do not eat, they live for short time and spend their life producing more mega caterpillars to take photos of.