You see the same things every time taking a trip in the car to Langendorf where our supermarket is, but when the misty days arrive, they look different. They have an eery reflection. A norml tower on the local cathederal is enshrouded in mystery: is it really there, or will it disappear.
Ok, nothing new, we get this every late Autumn where I live. A river runs through it all, the River Aar, and according to the temperatures and weather conditions, you get mist. It is not fog, because fog is what I survived in the fifties in London. The fog was yellow and thick enough to cut with a knife and leave traces in your handkerchief afterwards, showing soot particles. Some people really suffered from the effects, epecially the elderly and babies. My lungs probably got a protective layer of soot and tar which was enhanced by smoking at the age of 16 for any years which transformed me to a sort of bionic woman immune to atmospheric attacks from the weather. One day at the age of 50 I stopped smoking and have not touched one since.
No, our mist is a friendly mist. It arrives in the morning and you can see it building a layer on the river. As the Autumn progesses it remains all day and traffic has to switch on the their headlights.
I just spent half an hour transforming my kitchen. It is a weekly job I do, usually after my golden oldie sleep on Tuesday. Only half an hour, because I discovered when becoming a retired golden oldie, that it minimises the work by doing it regularly. I do not have much better to do all day. I cannot sit at the computer all the time writing, and in between I cook, wash, iron and clean for a change. Actually today it was a short job, because Mr. Swiss had already done the preliminary work like moving everything to the kitchen table, so all I had to do was wipe everything over and polish it. My kitchen has now been transformed. I transformed the bathroom this morning, the most hated job I have during the week, but now I have it all behind me – until next week.
And as I sit here and look out the window onto my front garden I see that my buddleia bush is also slowly transforming. The butterfly friendly flowers are now gone and the leaves are transforming their colours and falling. This means work. I think I will have to have a few words with my No. 1 son about picking up leaves At the moment it is raining constantly: I even heard some thunder in the night. Either we have permanent mist or rain. Probably it all hangs together somehow.
I seem to have been transforming constantly from a kid to a teenager, a young woman, a lady and now a golden oldie. Time passes so quickly. Mr. Swiss celebrated his birthday last week and now we have been making arrangements for mine in December. My No 2 son reminded me that it is a special birthday, being the one with the 7 in front. This time it will be a meal in a restaurant, already organised as I am not too tired to cook a complete evening meal for everyone. I can still remember my 40th birthday, coming home from work to the family. Then we were still going on active walking holidays in the mountaineous parts of Switzerland in Summer and I had no problems. How time flies when you are enjoying yourself. I now have problems standing after sitting in a chair, not to mention leaving my bed in the morning.