Flower of the Day: 29.04.2017 Lewisia


Someone called Lewis found them growing in a mountaineous area facing north in the States. What could be better for Switzerland. They like a dryish, sandy, stony earth, although in my garden they are not so dry at the moment due to the continuous rain we have had for the past week. However the sun was shining today, so it can only get better. I love these little flowers and they make a great show. You just have to be called Lewis.

Flower of the Day: 29.04.2017 Lewisia

Colour Your World: Gray

Renovation 29.04 (13)

I am living in a gray world, surrounded by gray – textures and shades of gray: not quite 50 but if this continues, we will reach the 50 shades eventually. Even the white nylon sheet suspended over our entrance is now gray. The workmen hung it up today, probably to catch any dust or dirt that might fall from the building, the sun arrived and reflected the complete gray background onto the material and so we are grey in gray. Even the pants I am wearing at the moment are dark gray and the t-shirt light gray. But today we had a blue sky.

Colour your Word: Gray

Daily Prompt: Perfume and the Family Grave


I am not really the perfume type, but if it has a name then why not. I found my perfumes at the duty free when I would travel to London to visit my dad. They had small bottles of various sorts (flacon?) in a box. I still have remainders in my bathroom cabinet, for the simple idea that I never bother with it. As we have had these theme before I will try not to repeat myself and now tell you about the times when I was a kid and mum liked to visit the family grave in Stratford in East London. Today Stratford is no longer the Stratford I knew. It was discovered for the London Olympic Games in 2012 and a lot was destroyed to make room for various stadiums for the sports.

So mum and I were on our way by bus to the Woodgrange Cemetery, which has now been partially converted into a moslem cemetery. Do not ask, things change throughout the years. As we approached the area we would cross a river, probably the River Lea. We passed over a bridge and then it hit us, the strong smell of perfume, the bus smelt like a lavender market. On the river bank, Yardleys had their factory. Yardleys were the biggest perfume suppliers in England. Their products were sold everywhere: they were cheap and popular amongst the Brits. These were the days before everyone had a bottle of Chanel No. 5 in their bathroom cupboard, and our family definitely did not invest large sums of money in perfume. It was more for decoration than anything else.

When we reached Stratford we would change busses for the graveyard where most of our family members were buried. Family members that I never met in life and had only heard of from mum. My maternal grandmother was the last to be buried in the grave when I was a kid, and I never knew her. She passed on when I was 4 months old. Some years later my maternal granfather was the last to be buried in this cemetery, the grave was then full, its limit of 6 people/bodies had been reached.   I visited the cemetery on a visit to my father in London with my friend some years ago and we discovered that half of the cemetery had disappeared and had appartment blocks built on it. There have been rumours of hauntings in various appartments, but probably more due to highly strung imaginations of the people living there. Our family grave was now non existant. I knew roughly where the family grave was, but even in my days of monthly visits to the cemetery with mum, it was over populated and you had to climb over other graves to get to the one you wanted to reach.

I am drifting from the theme. The Yardleys perfume factory is also no longer there. It had to make room for the Olympic Games, and having a background smell of “Ashes of Roses” or however the perfume was named, was not the ideal scent for the background of a race or pole vault.

Woodgrange Park Cemetery
The remains of Woodgrange Cemetery

Daily Prompt: Perfume and the Family Grave

Good Morning

Dandelions 21.01.2016

I discovered this morning that there is such a thing called “dandelion days” held in honour of this garden intruder. A fellow blogger mentioned it and so I decided to examine this strange idea a little closer. Of course they have their charm, the happy yellow flowers are one of the first to appear in the garden, almost everywhere, which is the first problem. They are everywhere, I even found two flower heads in my wonderful green lawn and if you find one, the others will not be far behind. This was the reason I removed the two flowers. Outside my garden there is a natural meadow where all wild flowers can grow as much as they want to. It is only removed at the end of the seeding season, to ensure it will grow again next year.

Dandelion HeadIn the meanwhile the dandelions produce their many flowers which eventually become fluffy balls containing the seeds which are spread by the wind to other places to grow, ensuring that they will be back next year, perhaps even for a second show this year, they are everywhere. I remember the childhood days when we would pick this fluffly seed containers and empty them by blowing the feathered seeds into the wind, helping to propagate and spread the dandelion. Today I am not longer a child, and a dedicated enemy of the dreaded dandelion. Not only do they grow, but they produced roots resembling what a baby triffid would probably develop. The roots go deep and I need some sort of garden tool to dig them out to ensure that they will not return next year. I love flowers, but dandelions are too much of a good thing.


On a walk in the field next to my garden I discovered this new growth of dandelions, promising all the negative delights of a new dandelion plantation next to my garden. It is already showing a couple of stalks depleted of its seed heads (which have probably found a new future home near my garden) and is bearing the shape of things to come with new flower stalks. No, it is not one of those romantic dandelion flower pictures, but a mass of buds and leaves, probably growing its carrot like roots in the underground, a danger to all normal plant life as far as I am concerned. All I can say is feel free to celebrate your dandelion days, take your photos and afterwards, if your strength allows it, dig them up and throw them on the compost heap. My words to the international dandelion days, they do not need days, they need obituaries as far as I am concerned.

In the meanwhile the scaffolding construction work in our part of the world seemed to be approaching its end yesterday. All the various steel bits and pieces in our garden were cleared away and our building now resembles the Centre Pompidiou in Paris. That is a an art gallery constructed in the fashion of a building site, but more with architectural design and judged as a work of art. We are on the bottom on the right in the following photo.

Renovation 28.04 (23)
Renovation 28.04 (20)I am not quite sure if this can be recommended as a work of art, but this seems to be the entrance to the stairs on this construction. It has been enclosed with Paul Klee-like colourful designs, which I am sure is eligible for a prize in art design.

I actually thought the scaffolding constructors will now be leaving to make way for the next troup, which will be the plasterers, but they have returned again today. They probably want to say goodbye to their creation and have a few bits and pieces to finish.  The first week of work was done by a couple of guys from Germany who seemed to be the experts.

Renovation 28.04 (29)

This week a new troop arrived, speaking a language I did not at first recognise. However, when they were constructing our personal entrance to the stairs on the East side, which we are forbidden to use, I asked them if they could put my garden hose in a place where we could use it. The guy answered “je ne comprends pas” and so I realised they were all french speaking, although I did not actually recognised the language as French at first. After further conversation, me using my broken french, it seems they are all from Morocco and it must have been some sort of french patois they speak between themselves, although it seems they would be more comfortable with spanish. I then realised that this was not just a building site, but an internatonal building site.

And now to a normal Saturday with no unnecesary exitements,  I hope. Mr. Swiss said this morning everything was covered in mist outside, probably due to the rain we have been having in the last few days. I have no big plans for today, but might take a walk somewhere.

See you around later, have a nice week-end.