At least I think it is an amaryllis, but am not quite sure. They seem to arrive in all shapes and sizes.
At least I think it is an amaryllis, but am not quite sure. They seem to arrive in all shapes and sizes.
No point, I break them before I even begin to resolute them and anyhow I am now too much of a golden oldie to make them. I do not drink, do not smoke so what am I supposed to resolve. I suppose I could be more careful with my diabetes, but a little bit of fun you have to have in life somewhere. It is all the more daring when you eat a piece of chocolate, or enjoy a slice of cake, and all the more living dangerously with the ice cream and strawberries topped with whipped cream.
I have nothing to resolve, it has all been done in the last 70 years, so why bother. I read something interesting that a blogging colleague wrote. She has resolved to do something different in her life just once a month and I find that a very good idea. A different style of literature, perhaps something new for breakfast, anything to spice up life. I might even try that, although I seem to be doing different things daily, beause I usually forget what I am supposed to be doing – yes, we golden oldies live an exciting life. Perhaps I could invest in a new lens for my camera, or get myself the iPhone 7, although my iPhone 6 is still working perfectly.
Yes I am a cyber golden oldie and make only cyber new year resolutions – must note them on my iPad to make sure I do not forget what I actually resolved.
I cannot resist shadows, so when I saw this effect this afternoon of the sun shining through the blinds in the living room, I had to grab my camera and take a few photos.
And here is another one from today. It is just a coincidence that today was a day full of contrasts.
I am not a lover of curtains, but have them in the bedroom and my office, Sometimes you get some interesting contrasts when the sun is shining.
New Year’s Eve? Ah yes that it when I stay up until midnight, drink a glass of something fizzy, usually on the sour side, seal it with a kiss and then go to bed.
Well it has been something like that for the past 48 years, although in the last two years we have left the fizzy stuff out – even golden oldies slow down with the years and I do not like champagne in any case, I do not even drink: just a sip would make me forget my name these days – but the kiss remains.
No it was a sober New Years Eve, taking it easy, going nowhere and doing nothing. Even the evening meal was nothing out of the ordinary, it was a chicken, but it was a good chicken. No. 1 son disappeared in town and stayed until the next year. Mr.Swiss had baked one of this famous master chef similar apple flans and afterwards it was a DVD evening with the english crime series Scott and Bailey. He is quite good at finding good series. What I like about that series is that it is lady power pure, the chief is a lady and the two detectives are ladies. There are men of course, but more in the side role.
So stop rambling on, that was it. I did managed to stay awake until midnight, with all those bells pealing everywhere there was no choice and the exploding fireworks. My cat slept through it all as usual, and missed all the fun. He even did not notice the fireworks exploding everywhere, the swiss francs they paid for them going up in a cloud of smoke. I did not even bother to look from the window.
It’s a bit late I know, I just did not have the time yesterday to write this one, but Happy New Year, Hogmany or whatever you celebrate and may it be a good one.
Of course I have a photo of a dragon, it is a typical Swiss pet, we all have them. This is a baby, as he does not yet spit fire and he has not yet turned green. It is only the adult dragons that do things like that. He practices now and again and we have to constantly replace our wooden chairs because they are full of scorch marks and the legs tend to break if he burns them through. Otherwise very easy to handle, and he loves a bottle of petrol/gas now and again to develop his fire glands. Yes, with a dragon at home you never need a cigarette lighter. Just make sure you always have a bucket of water near, they tend to overdo it now and again.
Chestnuts are a tradition in our town. Every year the Chestnut seller’s family arrives from the Italian part of Switzerland, where the genuine roasted chestnut trees grow, and he sets up his house on the market place. It has been the same family for many years, and after living in and around Solothurn for almost 50 years, I have noticed how the married couple running the business have got older with the years.
They also sell peanuts, the best you can buy, and they always seem to have a better taste than those in the stores.
There are chestnuts and chestnuts, and I even have a tree in my garden in a pot, that I managed to rear from a local chestnut tree. However, the chestnuts that are roasted and eaten are different to those that would grow on my tree. They have more spikes, and very fine. Here is a photo I took on our market where they were selling them in the raw state.
And by the way, they are known under the italian name of “marroni” in our area, probably because it is the Italian speaking families from the Ticino area of Switzerland that usually sell them. They often call “heisse marroni” (hot chestnuts) when selling them, but not in our town. They have no need, everyone knows where they can buy them.
“It’s gone again.”
“What have you lost this time?”
“What do you mean “this time”, as if I was always losing stuff.”
“Well this morning you got quite excited, accompanied by profanities because you were looking for the files on the computer with those important scanned documents, as if I should know where they were.”
“Well I found them.”
“Only when you remembered that you had made copies and filed them, and did not save it to the comuputer.”
“The main thing is that I found them.”
“After searching for half an hour.”
“And now I have lost something else.”
“My inspiration for something to write.”
“I cannot help you there, what do you have to write about?”
“The subject is “gone”.”
“Well that shouldn’t be difficult, you are always losing stuff.”
“Yes, but this time it is not something you can misplace. Inspiration is what you need. I mean if I lost something important, it would not be gone, because I would probably find it again.”
“Unless you had thrown it into the garbage can and not noticed. Then you would not find it because it would really be gone.”
“I do not throw stuff in the garbage can by misake.”
“Do you do it on purpose? You are always searching for stuff in the garbage can.”
“That is because it had been thrown away in error, and it is not always me who throws it away. Anyhow I did not throw my inspiration into the garbage can. It is just gone.”
“That’s it, you could write about your missing inspiration.”
“Are you trying to be funny.”
“Of course not, I am not laughing am I? I would be glad if you found your inspiration, then you would not be driving me up the wall with silly questions.”
“Come to think of it, a lot of stuff has gone lately.”
“Well I am not missing anything.”
“I was thinking hypothetically. Like the year 2016 has now gone forever and will never return and everything that happened in that year has also gone.”
“Like my blue sock that you never found after it disappeared into the washing machine.*
“I was thinking of more important stuff, like events that change the world and definitely not your blue sock. Anyhow I found it again.”
“Yes, you did find a blue sock, I must admit, but it was not my blue sock. It was a lighter shade of blue and did not match the sock I still had.”
“But you could still wear them as a pair, no-one notices, your trousers hang over them.”
“Typical. I noticed because one was shorter in the leg length than the other one and it looked silly and felt uncomfortable, as if one leg was shorter than the other. What I cannot understand is that you can lose a sock.”
“These things happen, be glad it was only sock and your legs are still both the same length If it was a t-shirt I could understand your dilemma, but socks can be replaced. Perhaps it got mixed up with our son’s socks. You men all wear the same colours, it can easily happen.”
“So we are both walking around with odd socks.”
“Of course not, he probably threw his odd socks away. He is not as complicated as others.”
“Are you saying that…….”
“Forget it, I really do not have time for this discussion. My missing inspiration has now returned, I have a meaning for today’s blog.”
“Glad to hear it, then I can read the newspaper in peace.”
“Oh, I thought you had read it already. But you can always read it online if necessary.”
“Where is the newspaper?”
“It’s gone to the trash can, but the main thing is my inspiration has returned. I can now write about the missing blue sock, it might become a famous mystery story even “The legend of the missing blue sock”. Yes, that’s it. Hello are you listening?”
“No I am concentrating on the small print on the computer where I am trying to read the newspaper that you threw into the trash can.”
Je gratte, donc je suis
In 2016, aged 48, I suffered a stroke. Now I'm coming through the other side.
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