Greetings from a Swiss summer – a mixed bouquet of various summer flowers.
Greetings from a Swiss summer – a mixed bouquet of various summer flowers.
I am not sure if this is the right way to go, but most likely the only way to get out of the hole in the road.
I suppose this is one way to get through a corn field, just do it yourself.
Not sure about this one, but a guy with two horns and a hoof on one foot was seen going down there.
On Wednesday morning we went shopping, we have to eat to live. My eyes caught a fresh harvest of Nectarines. Why eat a peach when there are nectarines is one of my life’s mottos. I am not a great fruit eater. Apples are boring and oranges only available during winter. I mean the real oranges and not the hard billiard ball lookalike oranges with the thin skins and bitter taste available in the summer months. It is now nectarine time, with the smooth red skins and juicy flesh and the price is right. It is season, so why not. I decided to pick 4 of them: one a day would last until Saturday There is no point in buying too many as they would become soft and make a mess when eating.
This morning was another shopping day. We had constructed our lists on the iPhones, in a cloud of course, and because of our exact planning we were finished with the main objects within an hour. There was time left and we now had only the bits and pieces that were not for meals, but nonetheless important for week-end survival.
“Shall we buy “Prince” cake for a snack in the afternoon?” (Explanation: a cake topped with crunchy meringue and filled with cream).
“I am not sure, you take something you want. Do we still have a vanilla cream at home?”
“I think so, but perhaps only one.”
This was when I had to use my brain. Was there only one vanilla cream or two. I had to make a decision, We bought 2 pieces of “Prince” cake to be on the safe side, one for each of us. This coupled with my nectarine was protection against starvation.
And so my Daily Prompt half hour could begin. Just did a quick check: my Apple computer, the Kindle and iPad and camera. You never know. I sit in front of an open window and there might be something worth taking a photo of.
My cake and nectarine are also ready as well as the fly swatter. Never forget the fly swatter. One was already buzzing around before I began to eat. I was patient waited until it settled on the table and swatted. I was lucky, a hit on the first swat. That does not often happen. Flies have a radar system that tells them the swatter is approaching before I even think about it: note the dead fly on the fly swatter.
And now I was ready to hit the keyboard, sustained by my cake and nectarine.
In the meanwhile I have snacked.
Look, we have a new curtain, only unfortunately it might be permanent until the builders go back to where they came from. It hangs over our porch removing the little daylight that we have due to the shade of the scaffolding. Now I am really sharpening my claws and letting my corner teeth grow longer in the corners – is it full moon? Not only do we have to put up with the dirt and the noise, now they have stolen our remaining daylight. I do not know why, and I do not care, although it must have something to do with the repair work on the balcony above. I am keeping an eye open for No. 1 builder for an attack. Mr. Swiss tells me it is not the builders, but the balcony and roof people and I am not climbing up to the roof to find one. I will grab the first unsuspecting person wearing builders robes for an explanation.
I do not care if it is the King Builder himself, but it is annoying. There are two days in the week, known as week-end, when we are builder free and life returns to almost normal and I do not want this thick red plastic curtain in front of my porch on Saturday and Sunday.
Otherwise I should concentrate on normal life which I believe still exists somewhere outside of where I live. The week-end shopping plan is made and they will let me out today to go shopping.
I had a rude awakening at 2.00 a.m. when I was deep in my beauty sleep. Two cats met outside the bedroom window: one growled and the other one screamed cutting through all decibels of noise. They seemed to be having a disagreement. We were both awake and our first through was our Tabby. However, we checked and found him sound asleep out on the porch on the other side of the appartment. He was safe and had no idea that two of his feline buddies were planning to kill each other. When cats fight they just go ahead and do not discuss it first of all. We opened the curtains but they were already gone and afterwards things more or less returned to normal, but my sleep was destroyed. There is nothing better than a healthy cat fight in the middle of the night.
I remembered my days in London, Many of us had cats and the slums were being cleared. Buildings were destroyed, but the stray cats remained and there were many. Most of them settled in an empty basement of a wood working factory just around the corner to where we lived. It was cat territory pure. London is not really cat country, but they survived with no problem, and reproduced to infinity.
It rained again in the night, but not so much. I noticed with pleasure yesterday that another flower was growing amongst the building objects outside. It might not be a tree in Brooklyn, but it is a hollyhock in our front yard next to the scaffolding fighting for its right to survive.
And the peonies still appear from time to time. Our local store has them constantly in their selection of cut flowers, although I would never cut them.
My cat Tabby
We are surrounded in white, everywhere white. We are being cladded in white, all in the name of insulation of the building. It is a magnetising white. The buiders form his mass of styrofoam to their needs. They use saws and electric wires to cut it. Not all of it is used and at the end of the day they collect what they do not need in large plastic sacks.
This styrofoam is compressed material and when you cut it, parts of it escape in a crumbed version. Then the wind might come. At the moment we have strong winds following yesterdays’ storms. Now we have winter without the cold and ice. It is snowing styrofoam everywhere. The builders spend the last half hour of the day sweeping with large brooms and clearing the styrofoam away. They collect it in large plastic bags. A lot of the styrofoam is swept into the ditches surrounding the supports of the scaffolding.
This is what we are left with. On the right styrofoam walls, all in the name of insulation towering above us and the crumbly bits in the ditch at the bottom which no-one will clear away. It will probably be buried in the name of renovation. Note our garden tap stretching out of the wall on the right. Even that had to be renewed and extended because our new walls will be thicker that the previous walls.
And now the exciting part. Every time it rains it means that I will again have to wipe over the windows as they have a layer of styroporous bits and pieces, the glass attracts the flying residue like a magnet. Now we enter the room on the other side of the window an you find that the floor now has little white pieces of styropor mainly in front of the windows.
Who needs metal for a magnet, styropor is just as good, but unfortunately the magnet to collect it has not yet been invented. We are living in a world of white, of foam, of material which makes itself independent if the wind blows.
The grand finale will be when they grind over the bricks of this white invader to smooth them into one piece, ensuring that there are no cracks between the individual pieces. Builder No 1 assured me that there is something new. All the workers are equipped with a back pack containing a vacuum. There is a large hose attached and as they grind down the surface of the foam, it will be sucked into the inside of the backpack. In the meanwhile we can watch the little flakes of styrofoam float past and onto the window, as if it was attracted by one giant magnet.
Surrounded by piles of styropor ready for the next magnetical attack.
I saw that you were perfect and so I loved you. Then I saw you were not perfect and I loved you even more. Unknown.
Let's Go for a Photo Walk
Rants and Musings from the Ether.
My little world in stories and images
photography, writing and the spaces between
Writer. Mom. Travel buff, music fan and shameless foodie.
A Crazy Dog Lady with a Camera
A photographer's view of the world - words and images to inspire your travels and your dreams
Two robins, one nest….Our adventure of life, nesting and decorating our home the robin’s nest...
Finland, travel, food, sailing and everything in between
Poetry, story and real life.
People, Places, Nature, LIFE!
Just another WordPress.com site
by Sam Allen
The Many Things In My Toy Box ....my view may change due to verifiable evidence
Espiritu en Fuego -- A Fiery Spirit Expressing Herself
Walking blogger exploring London's hidden gems, sights and history!
Our views and opinions on anything and everything that catches our eye
Giving and Receiving Blessings
Everyone could use a little practice. Keeping it real between the pages
The general journal of a normal nutter playing with words (in awful rhyme a lot of the time), music and pictures, and having the occasional rant.
My Garden Bio-Diversity
Notes on Seeing, Reading & Writing, Living & Loving in The North
Random meaningful words on a page
Musings from a 64 year old introvert.
Hearts building a home, one day at a time...
Life Through My Lens
Heart-o-fool with head-so-wise , both blah blah blahing
capturing memories one moment at a time
My thoughts about homeschooling, health and fitness, being an expat, kids and just life in general. My personal Lifestyle Blog!
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Echoes of Life, Love and Laughter
keep your head, heels, and standards high
Only one way to find out
Musings by Dermott Hayes, a writer
Fact and Fiction
literary translation English German poems nonsense rhymes nursery rhymes Nonsensgedichte Lyrik Wortspiele puns
An eclectic mixture of personal essays, stuff about writing, stuff about books and far out philosophy from an old baggage in a book-tower.
"As if I were not a man who sleeps at night and often has all the experiences while asleep as madmen do when awake"
Let's write something every day.