At the local cemetery with its macaroni cheese coloured pillars
At the local cemetery with its macaroni cheese coloured pillars
An amaryllis from last November in the store.
It is astonishing how many elderly people are on their way with something like this. We call them “Rollator” in German, but I believer the name is Zimmerframe or walker in English. I remember my dad had one eventually, although he fought against it until he was 95 years old and then there was no escape. He was born in 1915 and belonged to the “stick” generation.
I do not really blame him. Sticks are OK and when the day arrived that I no longer could walk unaided, I chose a nice snazzy stick with jungle pattern. If you have to have one then make sure it makes an impact, I thought. A walker, no never. I was diagnosed with MS at the age of 69. My stick was a help for support. This year in January I broke a leg and there it was, the verdict was cast. A stick does not help with a broken leg, and so I had my walker. It was otherwise not be possible to move at all. I never wanted one, but now it was there and I was glad to have it.
I was dependent on this monstrosity for three months, but slowly I returned to the stick and now I can even do it free handed, although with care. So what is with these walkers? Suddenly I see them everywhere. Take a walk, or in my case a wheelie with my chair, and I see them coming. We live near a senior home and I am convinced that more than half the inmates have a walker. Of course, some are better than others. There are those with a seat (like mine) and also a compartment for the shopping bags (also like mine). I even have a stick holder on mine now, so I have a choice. If I no longer need the walker I can go by stick.
They do have their limits. When approaching a slope be ready to put the brakes on to slow the speed. Stairs can cause problems, going up or down. Should you take them one step at a time, or try to do it like any stair climber, one after the other? I always take a lift if available.
You go to the supermarket and there they are again: team walker. The senior citizens approach pushing the walker and it is better to clear a path. I now belong. I do not yet have the confidence to go to the store with a stick. I tried it once, but it is uncomfortable. I now drive the car again and need my stick for support when boarding and leaving the car. Mr. Swiss puts the walker in the boot. You can fold it to save space. And so when you arrive at the store you see all the ladies waiting for their men to unpack the walker at the parking spaces. Note I say ladies, because up to now I have never seen a man with a walker. Are they ashamed to be seen with one, or do they not make a man version.
I am quite fast with my walker and I leave them all behind me. It is also handy when I take a few photos in the flower department with my mobile camera. I can lean on the walker to steady myself and snap away with no problem. I have now decided to perhaps begin a photo collection of people with walkers, but it might be a cause of annoyance when noticed.
Yes I have learned a lot in my lifetime and never say no, even if it is a walker. They are the chance to be with the others and you can do it. Mine is a nice violet colour on the frame. I am looking for two metal skulls to attach to the end of the holders. Note in the photo how handy they are to transport an iPad. My Kindle is in the front. If you tilt your computer, it fits nicely in the pouch at the front.
It is really astonishing the abilities of a walker.
I escaped again yesterday afternoon into the surroundings and armed with my camera I made myself on the way. It was a good afternoon. and a pleasant breeze was wafting. As I manage to get out and about now and again I notice the development of nature and the meadows are growing. It is mostly dandelions, but now the buttercups are arriving making a main theme of yellow.
The cows have now made themselves at home and are enjoying the great outdoors. Even they like to relax on the green green grass of home. I was on my way in my wheelchair and it was a perfect afternoon for an excursion.
I was surprised to see that some duck eggs had hatched in the meanwhile and the babies were all gathered next to mummy duck and with dad looking on. They were so close together that I could not count how many there were. It seems to me that the duck population at the stables is increasing rapidly and eventually there will be more ducks than chickens.
I decided to take my 200 lens with me this time as well which gives me better close up possibilities without blurring everything in the background. I discovered this was a good idea, as that lens does near and distance much better. I was now armed with three lens in my bag. I have enough room in my bag for all, but decided I might be overdoing it a little, so will leave the smallest lens at home in future as the 200 seems to cover many possibilities. Oh, the problems of a photographer.
I noticed the horses were also now in the meadows instead of being couped up in their stables. It was really a wonderful afternoon for a wheelie and there were not so many people around. I was actually thinking about going along the river path, but that is more a folk running competition where I have to wheel my way around family groups with kids and prams and dogs on walks which almost outnumber the people. I wheeled part of the way along the pavement at the side of the main road and noticed how many family groups with bikes were on their way. Yes the summer is coming.
I noticed a few darker clouds gathering on the way home. I settled myself on the porch with the computer at home and could hear a few rumbles of thunder in the background and then it began to rain, but it was a short shower, not even a shower. It was the first time we had rain since the beginning of the month. During the evening the winds picked up and our cat came crashing though the cat flap in the evening as I think the wind and rain was picking up and it was not her sort of thing.
Today will be another normal day at the Swiss homestead with a shopping trip and a physio therapy half hour this afternoon, although I do my own physio therapy at home on the computer. Now you have a complete new week ahead of you, so enjoy it, and do not forget, the week-end will return again in 5 days. I will leave you with a photo of me taken by the local paparazzi, the blogger at work.
A pink Vespa
Playing with reflections again
A red watchdog
Sometimes it rains too much
Just wear shades if they are too neon
And now you know why I never buy a protea, especially the King. At a price of 13.90 Swiss Francs for one piece, that are a little on the expensive side. But this is a King of course.
Me throw a tantrum, a fit, show off, ignore everyone – no never, well almost never. Of course as a kid I suppose I did annoy mum from time to time, but she never really understood the principles of child psychology. There was only one remedy to hysterical screams and feet stamping, and that was a firm hand on a tender part. No, not very often, no reason to accuse my parents of being aggressive, they just were not prepared for revolution.
I was about 6 years old and remember it as if it was yesterday. I was shopping with mum for the daily food and we were in the Bethnal Green Road in London, where the stalls were selling the fruit and vegetable. There were also shops and mum had to get the daily bread in the bakers. It must have been the early fifties, and supermarkets with everything you need were then only at the beginnings, and probably only across the pond in the States. So we entered the bakers, which was also a cake shop. For some time I had seen their prize piece in the window. It was proably a special cake for a birthday or some sort of celebration. It really looked good. I can see it as if it was yesterday.
It was basically covered in white icing and the top had a raised piece where various roases were peeping out. I do not even know if it was just a model or the real thing, but it looked so good. The roses were in different colours and the cover had been decorated with twirls and whirls. Mum said I could have a cake and I naturally though she meant a real king sized cake like the one in the window, and not the common custard creams or doughnuts. I said I would like that one and pointed to the masterpiece in the window. That was when mum made a mistake, although she still blames me, for some unknown reason. She said firmly “No, you can have a doughnut”. Tears welled up in my eyes and my voice increased in volume. She took me by the hand and we left the shop, or did she drag me out. I began to scream a real 200% hissy fit. To be quite honest, I did not know myself that I was capable.
She then dragged me long the road to home, which was not far away, me still thinking that the end of the world was nigh and I really thought that when she says you can have a cake she means a real cake and not one of the cheap imitations.
We arrived home and we had to climb the stairs, as we lived on the top floor. Grandad lived downstairs. There were 11 stairs. This was really something to the extent that after telling dad, she related the event to my Aunt Lil who lived opposite with Uncle Arthur. Yes, for every step we took on the stair she attacked my private part with her hand and gave a running commentary. Did it hurt? Not really, I was still wallowing in disappointment not getting the cake I had seen in the shop. This cake was not new, it had been there for some time. I had been planning on this fulfilment of my cake dreams for some time. Some times parents just do not understand their children.
Dil se Dil tak...
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