The label said “Lily” so it must be a lily.
The label said “Lily” so it must be a lily.
Not fern, but tansy leaves. I have a fern photo, am not sure if I have already used it, but these leaves are from Summer last year, so have never been shown. I am convinced that Crayola will never have a colour called “Tansy” and Tansy are yellow in any case when they flower, so here is the big break for Tansy leaves. They do have a ferny appearance and have definitely never been featured in a Colour Your World epic.
Name the language, and I have probably tried it. It just happens with me. I grew up speaking cockney. It was supposed to be english, but not really. Double negatives in the sentence “I ain’t (have not) got nuffing (nothing)”, and dropping your “h” which instead of a “hatche” became an “actch” made it all the more confusing for those that actually learned and spoke the Queen’s english. It was a wonder that Mr. Swiss and I actually understood each other, as he was also speaking a minoritiy language – Swiss German, although I am now fast forwarding, but I suppose actions speak louder than words – am now fast forwarding.
With time I added a knowledge of French, German and Italian – I always did like learning foreign languages. I crossed the english channel and for some unknown reason arrived in the german speaking part of Switzerland, where they actually could understand and speak proper German, but preferred to apply their own dialect – Swiss german – for daily conversation. How to speak Swiss German does not really exist because their various Kantons in Switzerland where it is spoken have their own way of saying things. This adds more confusion, but if you are a native you known immediately where your speaking companion originates. He is from Zürich, because he talks faster, must be from Bern with his slow articulation, now that person is from Aargau, somewhere between Zürich and Solothurn, roughly speaking of course. And complete not understanding if he comes from Kanton Vallis – at least for me. I am just a protective package of the whole thing.
Of course German speeaking Swiss speak real German, otherwise no-one would actually understand them: for the same reason I can speak real englsh, as you cannot expect all english speakers to understand cockney. There are even some cockneys that do not understand cockney, it being a language of the minority. Probably if you come from Bethnal Green (pronouced Befnal Green) you might accentuate your words differently to someone from Bermondsey, although Bermondsey people (like Tommy Steel) are not real cockneys because they come from the other side of the water (River Thames) and were definitely not born within the sound of Bow Bells, which is a qualification for being a real cockney. I was also not born within the sound of Bow Bells, but that was a war problem. Mum was shifted out of London to a place called Hitchin for my birth because the maternity hospitals in East London were full of expecting mothers due to the return of the soldiers from the war.
And so cockney Mrs. Angloswiss, meets Swiss speaking Solothurn dialect Mr. Swiss – how did we get to know each other. Was it sign language, did we communicate by showing each other words in books – no, of course not. He made an effort to speak english (only at the beginning) and I made an effort to speak proper english, somehow we met in the middle.
This all happned 48 years ago. Today we converse in Swiss German dialect, my kids speak Swiss German with me, but we can all do it in english if we have to, but it seems no-one really wants to. Even my autistic son can speak english, but I am in the Swiss German department of his autistic brain, so we leave that as it is.
Oh in the meanwhile I decided to learn Russian because I always wanted to and after 12 years I can read and write russian. I can even speak it, but due to lack of practice my vocabulary remains limited. I even did a year of learning arabic, but did not persevere. My brain was gradually becoming something resembling mashed potato.
It seems I even speak Swiss german in my sleep now and again. Today I am Polyglot I suppose. Do I get the languages mixed up? Yes, now and again, but there is always sign language when the going gets hard. In Facebook I notice that many Swiss write in the swiss german dialect to confuse matters for others, although the written language does not really exist as such. Aber au Ig ha chei Probläm mit däm, ig verstah alles, just write what you hear – gel.
I happened to have my zoom lens on the camera. I was on a walk and turned towards our town of Solothurn which is actually a distance along the road and shot this photo. The St. Urs Cathedral is always present being the highest building, but I was surprised the way the smaller buildings were settled around it along our connecting road.
Otherwise today is one of those days where I hugged the bed too long, although what difference does 30 minutes make when you are a golden oldie. Anyhow I eventually arrived at the breakfast table, fired up the computer and was ready to go and then it happened. I had a weak golden oldie moment. Somehow I stepped on the wrong keys and had a WordPress screen resolution (mark the expert description) which was twice as big as usual. I called for help, but Mr. Swiss did not hear me. I knew it was a simple matter of a Ctrl with a key, but as it does not happen every day, I could not remember which key. In the meanwhile I gave up and fired up my Apple computer. Mr. Swiss arrived and observed the problem, but it remained at an observation as he could not remember the simple solution.
I did a google search, and eventually arrived where I wanted to go. It is so easy, but being golden oldies we remember the complicated difficult things in life, and forget the easy solution. All it needed on the WordPress page was a Ctrl or Strg “-” and you had your screen organised again. Of course the opposite would be achieved by using the “+” sign. Why is it that you could cause crockery to break, burn oil in a pan, not find your keys and you survive, but when the computer has a problem, it is a grave problem where you collapse in despair and scream for help (Mr. Swiss). Luckily it is Saturday so I do not have to go places and do things, and I do not even have any ironing to do today. I have now calmed down.
Yesterday I at last made my long awaited visit to the hairdresser. She asked “how?” and I said “short” so now it is short, very short, but I am happy. I was going on my own with the car, but Mr. Swiss decided he had a few things in town to care for and came with me but he let me drive. As we returned home from shopping in the morning he managed to drop a freshly bought jar of jam on the floor. Luckily it was only glass splinters and the jam remained compact sticking to the glass, but he decided he could use the opportunity to replace the broken jar and otherwise made a tour of the town. I was in the middle of my haircut when he walked into the salon. It was only me and Heidi (my hairdresser) so he took a seat and we had a catching up conversation about this and that (Heidi also being a neighbour) whilst she was snipping away.
As the golden sun sunk slowly in the East (I know it should be West, but I took the photo facing East) we sped on our way home. I had a meal to prepare, but only for Mr. Swiss and me. No. 1 son had gone to town – there was some sort of modern concert which he was attending.
Enjoying life and the empty nest while easing into retirement,
I am Ahmed Abdi, A free Wordpress blogger, story teller and motivational speaker who writes about issues that matter the most. I love writing because it’s a clear reflection of how I perceive the world around me. At here, I will bring you things that are up for discussion. Stories from my community, city and people are what make my writing so interesting and inspiring!
Dil se Dil tak...
My site is all about my travels around the world and in Australia, plus daily life photos!
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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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