Restaurant Turk in Solothurn
Maroccan dancer in Marrakesh with tattooed feet
Restaurant Turk in Solothurn
Maroccan dancer in Marrakesh with tattooed feet
The colour search begins again.
“What are you looking for?”
“We don’t have any almonds?”
“Of course we do, what about these?” – produces a paket of mixed salted nuts and gives me an almond)
“I need more” – empty the packet and remove some almonds amongst the cashews and walnuts, eats a few peanuts.
“What are you doing with them?”
“Taking a photo” – nodds in sympathy with the photographer
And here are my almonds – success.
The more the merrier, a cloud of chrysanthemums seen in September.
Bottles are everywhere, sometimes not where they should be. Seen floating in the Riveer Aar in Switzerland.
They say when you are a golden oldie, time is no longer so important: really. Of course, I can now do whatI I want and when I want to, but somehow through life you have an internal clock that ticks and now and again sends out an alarm. I can stop hugging my bed in the morning when I want to. I am not really going anyway important or doing anything important. I can lay in bed until lunchtime, who cares? I realised after a few months of retirement that life does not really work that way, at least not for me. I have to have a sort of routine and so I reserve certain times for certain chores.
Does it really matter, no of course not. I thought I would try not doing what I do at that certain time. It works, I survive, So imagine not doing annything, just sitting around with a book, or on your computer all day. Is that the meaning of life? I suppose for some it is, but not for me. Why do I do what I do every day?
I could order a pizza for lunch, or buy frozen meals that you do not have to cook: in the oven and no clearing away the dishes afterwards. Just throw away the various boxes or plastic packing,
I remember my mum in our old row house in tbe slums of London. She would scrub the floors (we had inoleum – not many carpets) once a year and always on Good Friday. I have no idea why, but that was the day when dad had to take me for a walk, and so he would show me all the little nooks an crannies of the city of London where he worked as a young man: once as a messenger boy in the city for Lloyds Insurance, and later in the 50 bob tailors and eventually a hat shop somewhere near Fenchurch Street. It was his world, and he showed it to me. Today it no longer exists, torn away by the rebuilding of London. We would return home and hope that mum had finished her annual cleaning exercise. I think mum and dad bought their first vacuum cleaner when I was 10 years old and it was only used now and again. We only had three carpets.
Probably this influenced my future life as well as the Swiss way of life. Today I hoover every day, clean the bathroom and shower in detail once a week on a rota system, and windows? Every week somewhere windows will be cleaned, not all at the same time. In the meanwhile Mr. Swiss has taken over the kitchen thorough clean once a week. Why do I do this? I am a golden oldie and have nothing better to do with my time, except sitting at the computer or reading a book.
Today I even fitted in a ride in my wheelchair in the village for half an hour, taking photos and generally enjoying doing something completely different. With the advancing years, I have discovered I need this and it proves that I can still do it.
It’s raining again, temperature 4°C. If that is all I have to report then we now have dull and boring days here. Today is yet another holiday, as it is St. Bartholomew’s day, the day after the New Year. I don’t know why we celebrate this day in Switzerland, just another day when the shops are closed, although not so much as it used to be. Since last Friday I was out once to try out my new wheelchair. I would have gone yesterday as well, but there was an icy cold wind blowing. Now I am slowly getting cabine fever.
Some shops are open today, including our supermarket, but I will be back a little in my old routine with cleaning bathrooms and such boring stuff. I bought enough food to tie us over until tomorrow.
I seem to have spent my end of year holidays with some cooking, a little bit of cleaning and trying out my new wheelchair. Otherwise a little bit of blogging and putting various jigsaw puzzles together online – a new hobby. I read on in my Joseph Roth classic book “Radetsky March”, about 3 generations of the Trotta Family im the K. und K. (Imperial and Royal) Dynasty of Austria in the second half of the 19th century, which was an interesting time. Kaiser Franz and his Sissi were leading the country. World War I had not yet broken out, but at the end of the book the preparations are beginning. There is also a duel in the book, which seemed to be a thing to do in those days if you happened to be an officer in the regiment and got insulted.
Even my newspapers were only online in the holidays with no great stories.
WordPress seem to be doing funny things again. If I happen to make a mistake in a comment I would press “Edit” and arrive in a window where I could correct it and update the comment. This window has changed, and now looks like something completely different. It does the same thing, but around 6 corners until you get where you want to be, and reposting the corrected comment has become very complicated. Again the question, why repair it when it is not broken.
Today I will be cooking rataouille for lunch, that mixture of various certain vegetables popular somewhere in the Provence area of France. I quite like it, and it does not have to have meat, as keeping stuff in the fridge for five days does not work well with meat. I have now discovered a new type of aubergine: the funny long violet stalks on the right. They are easier to cut and can also be cooked as a veg to other dishes. I am an aubergine fan and this time even the others like it. I am usually the only one in the family with the taste for this vegetable.
And now I will move on as I am sure my exciting day has now left you stunned. It can only get better. I will probably do a wheelchair excursion this afternoon with my camera to see what the world is doing outside my appartment. Tomorrow is the day when they let me out again to explore unknown territories, like the supermarket. Have fun and blog on, you never know what will cross your competer’s path.
My "bump" was in 2016 when, aged 48, I suffered a stroke. This blog charts my recovery. (Header clipart licensed by pngguru.com.)
Enjoying life and the empty nest while easing into retirement,
I am Ahmed Abdi, a Wordpress blogger and storyteller who searches for stories that inspire people. I love writing because it’s a reflection of how I perceive the world around me. Lost in a world of endless chaos in my childhood, Unforgettable moments of tragedy and triumphs taught me the art of storytelling where I found myself through letter writing and then turned into stories but then sadly had lost everything I wrote for years. In 2018, I decided to create a Wordpress blog site that would allow me to store and retrieve every piece. Stories from my community, city and people are what make my writing so interesting and inspiring! I’m a tea lover so a cup of tea sometimes makes my blog.
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