Mundane Monday: #123 Rope

Rope 20.08 (1)

Living currently in a building site, you get a bit of everything. We have had metal constructions, followed by styrofoam insulation and even some flame throwers welding this and that. Now we have rope for heaving objects to the roof. The roof is now finished, but the rope remains and is collected on a piece of scaffolding in front of my window. I could see the rope, but it was not in a direct line to my camera. However I lifted the camera and aimed, hoping it was the right direction, because I could not see what was in focus. I heard the peep from the camera telling me it was ready, so pressed the button and this is what I got. The things we do for a photographs.

Mundane Monday: #123 Rope

Daily Prompt: In the Lurch

Bernese rösti - with lardons

This is a genuine Swiss Rösti, bernese style. It is made with raw potatoes which are grated in a machine into strips and afterwards fried in a pan together with chopped bacon pieces which transforms the normal potato Rösti into a Bernese Rösti. There are many variations to a Rösti, but this is how family Angloswiss likes to eat it – fried with butter although the original farmers dish would be with pork fat (everyone to their own taste).

So it came to past last week that Rösti was on my menu plan for lunch. I peeled the raw potatoes and organised my Magimix (a French super kitchen machine with various chopping knives) to quickly slice the potato into the appropriate size, a three minute job. It was then that it happened. One potato was sliced but the second potato was ignored. My machine had left me in the lurch.

Cleaning kitchen

Here the machine in question can be seen at the front middle of the photo. After 20 years of faithful service it refused. There were no sparks or explosions, it was silent. No lights were showing on the control panel, it was dead, gone to the happy chopping grounds of the kitchen machines. Of course we checked the fuse box, but all fuses were operating perfectly. The machine had committed suicide in the midst of chopping a potato. Dinner was to be served in half an hour, so without a further thought I pulled out a manual scraper and did the remainder by hand. There was no time to waste, although Mr. Swiss was still thinking it over. We women are action people, in emergencies such as these we do not think but act. Three broken finger nails and a scraped bleeding finger later, the potatoes were all grated – by hand and in the frying pan. The red blood stains eventually disappeared into the rösti.

We spoke a few words of regret (profanities) over the departed machine which had bravely done its work since almost 20 years, but we all have to meet our destiny one day. The machine, together with its body parts, was placed in the cellar to wait for its final journey to the burial department of the local supermarket.

I shed a few internal tears over this machine, cursing it for leaving me in the lurch at a most awkward time. It was clear to me that all future rösti would be prepared by hand. My special stuffing for a chicken would also now be out of reach, as I would chop the bread and herbs into a fine mixture in this machine. As I prepared the chopped carrots and celeriac for my spaghetti bolognese sauce a day later, I was again reminded of the demise of my kitchen machine. Mr. Swiss found that there was no point in replacing it for the few items that I used it for. Of course he was right, although I do not remember when he cooked a rösti or chopped vegetable for meat, not to mention a stuffed chicken.

RIP Magimix, made in France, never to return.

Daily Prompt: In the Lurch

Good Morning


Great, I could begin a new jar of jam this morning for breakfast. The old jar was OK, it was raspberry and I knew I had left a few scrapings for todays breakfast, but when I looked in the fridge the old jar had disappeared. It was raspberry and it seems No. 1 son finished it off for his breakfast. I could now begin the jar containing the strawberry jam. What difference does it really make, but a highlight of a golden oldie day, although jam is jam. Mr. Swiss had to unscrew the jar for me as I no longer have enough strength, where have the oldend days gone when opening a jar was just a daily task?

Mr. Swiss mentioned this morning something about rembering the days when we both went to work. Of course I remember them, but do not remember what I actually did when I was there. I remember switching a computer on when I arrived at my desk, but how the programme functioned I have no idea. You forget these things so quickly, but perhaps I do not really want to remember them. Everything seemed so important, a matter of duty to complete the job. It was your job, you were paid for it, and your purpose in life. One day you noticed that things were changing, you were becoming just a tool with no more reponsibility. I loved my work, because I had a task to complete. When modern methods turned you into a robot, just part of the conveyor belt, then your world begins to crumble. I was one of the lucky ones perhaps, I was on the verge of retirement, It is a funny feeling when you walk out of the office for the last time and realise that no-one really  cares that you are nolonger doing your job because there is always someone ready to replace you. They were probably looking forward to the day when the old Mrs. Angloswiss disappeared.  Everyone is replaceable, the Moor has done his duty, the Moor can go. And so I can spread my bread with jam and a new glass to celebrate with – priorities change in life.


Cats have other priorities and problems.  “Find a good sleeping place” and so Tabby is still sleeping outside during the night. She has not yet realised that the seasons are a changing, although we still have sunny days and the trees are still green. One day a feline sense of Autumn will arrive in her whiskers and she will again spend the night on her favourite cushion indoors.

And so another Monday is upon us, another weekly routine. Our first discussions at home seem to be that my arm is still hurting and I managed to get a nights sleep with a painkiller. Mr. Swiss has constant back ache and has not yet found a solution, but we do not have to go to work. We can stay at home and occupy ourselves with golden oldie problems. And now to move on, there is a quest to be completed in the supermarket and decisions to be made, such as what to cook for dinner. In the meanwhile I hear the sounds of ironing in a distant room. Our duties must be completed, even if we do not get a monthly wage for them from the company. The company has become the Swiss state and work pension scheme – what could be better.

Mais 16.08.2017