Another primrose and another colour
Another primrose and another colour
“Hello Mr. Fly. I am doing an interview for the Ragtag Fluke News. Can you tell me why you arrived on the table at this moment in time?”
“It was just a fluke of course, I could have arrived at the local cemetery, there is always something to eat, or I could have extended my family business by occupying yet another portion of cow recycling material and building a few self contained rooms for my children. However, I was buzzing around the human plate of food for something to eat.”
“And did you find something.”
“Yes and no I suppose. There was plenty, but I had the agony of choice. Shall I settle for the meat full of vitamins, or perhaps the potato, another organic food. It was then that the decision was made and I escaped becoming a fly pancake by avoiding a fly swatter in the nick of time. Humans were also eating and do not like to share with flies. I even tried the arm of a human to see if there was anything worth an absorbing motion, but nothing. And then I had a vision, more than a vision, do not forget I have five compound eyes and three simple eyes in between. Look at the orange surface on the front of my forehead, it is all eye. There is no escaping a fly examination and I spotted some liquids that had splashed from the meat. This was perfect, just a slurp and no extensive breaking down of the food particles. You could call it a fluke, but I savoured every drop.”
“But Mr. Fly, is your only purpose in life food.”
“No not quite, but it helps. As already mentioned the expansion of my family is also necessary. Where would you be without the flies. Who would deal with the surplus left after a meal? And the rats would no longer have a purpose in their lives. And now I must go, garbage is being produced from the leftovers of the meal and I have my part to play in the exploitation of the food processing.”
It was also a fluke that I happened to take this photo after lunch, come to think of it, most of my photos are flukes.
I could not resist taking a photo of my computer this morning. Microsoft or whoever always have a screensaver photo when I switch on the machine in the morning. They are very good photos and are from nature’s wonders all over the world. I have a look and move on. However this morning I was tempted to take a photo of the photo. I immediately recognized the view through the River Thames barrier onto the dock area of London, and it was almost like being home again. Of course my London home was almost 50 years ago, but I like to keep in touch with the changes and London remains my home town.
We have blue skies and occasionally a jet wings its way across the sky. I always thought that they were from Zürich or Geneva, but my son visited last week and he has this flight guide thing on his smartphone showing the air traffic all over Europe and immediately told me the name of the aircraft company and from where a flight was coming and going. What you can do today with the modern electronics i you understand it all. Son No. 2 grew up in modern times and has it in his genes. I just wonder how my grandson will be when he reaches the age of 40. I will not be around to witness it, unless they discover eternal life in the meanwhile, but I am not actually sure I want to witness it.
We now have a sunflower field growing on the route to the supermarket. Unfortunately I only see it from a moving car, so my photos are not so clear. However, the field would be in wheelchair distance from where I live, although probably half an hour at normal speed. If I put my foot/hand down on the motor I could do it in quarter of an hour and it is my intention this afternoon to do it and take a few more photos. They are now in full bloom and I want to pack the chance by camera. Most probably they are being grown for oil production from the seeds. Our area is not such a sunflower oil place. My No. 2 son lives in the area around Schaffhausen near the German border, and he has a large sunflower field opposite his garden: almost Van Gogh worthy for a painting.
I was a little disappointed yesterday morning on my week-end shopping trip at the supermarket. I had to wait a couple of weeks to get my official permission with document to be able to use a handicapped parking space at the store. It has become important for me, as after the shopping and before, I no longer can mange walking very well. When I arrive and shop, the problems are not so bad as I can lean on many things. Yesterday the three parking spaces for handicapped were already occupied and the parking lot was also quite full. The cars occupying the handicapped places all had the official permit showing, like I have, so it is obvious that there are not enough places available. Mr. Swiss let me out of the car at the entrance and afterwards went on to park. He picked me up again when the shopping was done to save me walking, falling and perhaps breaking something. You just cannot win it seems.
At least today is a day at home with no such stress and doing what I want to and enjoy. I am now on my way, so enjoy the week-end beginning and make the most of it, with or without computer. I just read that an online colleague has no computer in her area in Colorado probably due to the devastating fires in her area.
I will leave you with a wild flower I saw growing on the edge of the road as I was approaching the store yesterday morning. These grow here and there where I live and quite like them. I should really collect a few seed pods and introduce them to my garden.
And another colourful arrival in the primrose world.
Our next village is Riedholz and this is the way from our village, tempo limite 60 kilometers an hour. It begins next to the local castle and the farmer has now cut the fields down and the hay is already bundled in its Swiss Rolls.
Anyone for a quiet bench on a path in the local cemetery. The view is a little restricted, but inviting for a rest.
If a chicken is not sure of the way, it just follows the one in front, but the one in front also seems to be a little doubtful whether it is the right path.
Yesterday we had such strong gusts of wind that our bird, Fred, fell in the garden and so we had to fit him up with a stone to prevent it happening again. We always have few large heavy stones laying around. I remember when we bought our apartment. It had been freshly built and we just had two stretches of wannabe lawn at the front and back. As we were organising this apology for a lawn we discovered there were more stones that anything else, left behind by the original builders. They were not really stones, but more boulders, and now we have collected a stone in our Ragtag Prompts, a milestone so they say.
This is, of course, the real thing. It was found at the exit (or entrance) to the local cemetery belonging to the town of Solothurn. It marks the border of our little village of Feldbrunnen, to the big brother over the road, the town of Solothurn. It is a milestone, so if you die on the bottom half of the area where you see the stone, it is a responsibilitiy of the town of Solothurn to give you your last resting space. If your last breathe occurs on the other side of the stone, then the village of Feldbrunnen should take care of your remains. Of course, this is all hypothetical as we live in modern times and it all depends on who pays the bill.
We have now reached the first stepping stone of our Ragtag Daily Prompts, and there is no question on what side of the border we will take our last writing steps. We stay in the middle where the bloggers say good morning and goodnight to each other. Tempo passati, we have now reached the one month mark and are we happy? Of course we are otherwise we would no longer be here. We still curse about the impossible words we have for a prompt, we still complain about not knowing what to write, but we carry on regardless. Our destiny is now in the hands of those that care, that like to share the fun.
I did not take my last breath at the Daily Post Daily Prompt site which is now a deserted desert of years of prompts that are still there, almost like the local cemetery. Now and again I might drift in and listen to the wind whispering between the tiles of the old prompts. There is even an inscription there “We’re no longer publishing new writing prompts, but hope you find inspiration in the hundreds already in our tombs” and then you here an evil laugh and a scream. Do not go there, they might drive a computer through your heart.
No, now we are in the land of the living, a bit ragged, but tagged to the last idea. We can do it, we already have. We are alive and prompting as we always were. Long live the Ragtag prompts and may there be many milestones, although I prefer kilometres, they are more modern,
This morning does not look very promising. I have not seen a grey sky like this for a couple of weeks in the morning, so it is something completely different. There is also a cool wind blowing, which lead to a debate.
One of the first chores in the morning in the summer months is that either me or Mr. Swiss put the empty wash stand outside to fill it with the various towels we use in the bathroom/shower to dry in the sun and remain fresh. Usually at lunch time I can replace them in their normal places. When there are grey skies we are not sure what to do. After a preliminary discussion we decided to risk putting the stand outside and see what happens. There is a nice fresh breeze, so if it doesn’t rain it should be OK. Our only problem might be that the breeze blows the stand over and we have to collect the towels on the ground. However, the problems of a golden oldie life, which are actually not problems, but it keeps us busy.
Yesterday evening we had one of those colourful sunsets and I really though today would be another great day
It all seemed to be an illusion, but I captured a few shots from the porch before going inside around 9.45 p.m.
Then I had one of those nights, which rarely happens to me, where I had difficulty falling asleep. Generally I collapse on the bed and know nothing more until the morning, except for my twice nightly excursions to that place where most of us go in the night. I also had a little disturbance which does not usually disturb. Both Mr. Swiss and I have those wonderful inventions of modern life, the automatic electric toothbrush which uploads when not in use. I now have a new one. I always had a Philips sonic, but they do not live long on my teeth. I have now changed to a water pik which seems to be stronger, Mr. Swiss has had his for at least 10 years. We now have two toothbrushes uploading during the night.
They make no noise, but just sit silently on the cupboard with their green lights. Mine was flashing as it was uploading to full power. It looked like some sort of green eyed monster sitting in the corner of the bedroom. I even have a photo. As I could not sleep and my telephone camera is always next to the bed, because it has a built in floodlight, I took a photo of it. I know, I take photos of everything – one of the pleasures of a golden oldie that has nothing better too do.
And now I must go places and do things in the appartment as today is the great excursion to the local supermarket buying all sorts of goodies for the week-end. I made the list on my iPhone yesterday evening and now and again Mr. Swiss adds a few items, but there is general approval. Son No. 1 will not be home for the evening meal on Saturday, as there is yet another open air concert which he will attend.
Here is another mystery flower I saw on one of my wheelies in the landscape. Enjoy your Friday, tomorrow is week-end, time to relax and have fun, although I try to have fun most of the time.
Portrait of a chicken
Almost a swan
If you do not know the name and it has a middle with petals surrounding it, it must be some sort of daisy, although I am sure this one has a special name.
My kitchen is probably the biggest power eater in my apartment: the fridge, freezer, microwave, oven, cooking range – they are all on stand bye.
Life has become one big battle of reductions. We all do it the wrong way. My ancestors lit a candle or later used gas. No-one really asked where the gas came from. Everyone had a so-called meter and you fed it with change when the gas was no more. You would be cooking a cake in the oven, perhaps the meat and vegetable were on the flame and suddently the flame got smaller and weaker and it was no more. It was time to put money in the metal box, the meter, to get your supply of gas again. The funny thing in those days was no-one cried to save the gas. People were not rich, but paying as you go seemed to be more manageable than having a monthly bill through the letter box.
Perhaps it was growing up in these surroundings that gave me a basis for not living as if there was a second world around the corner. If we left a room in our little house in London we switched the light off. It was a normal state of affairs, you save electricity. My mum remembers her mum as being one of the first in our back street in the East End of London to sign for the street to be opened up to lay the electric cables. We continued to cook by gas because the gas pipes were already there, but now we had an electric light and no longer needed to light the gas holder for light. This electricity was new, and my grandparents, as well as my parents, learned to care for it.
Growing up under these circumstances, it was in your system. I have now been married 50 years (next year) and I am still switching off the bathroom light when the bathroom is empty. The kitchen is the place where this electricity is mostly used, but our dishwasher is only in use from 9.00 p.m. in the evening, as we have half price electricity from 9 in the evening until 6 in the morning. This is the same for our washing machine in our linen room in the cellar and that is only switched on for a wash at 9.00 in the evening. The biggest wash, the white wash, is just 1 hour 20 minutes so I can easily hang it in the evening and it dries by the morning. Perhaps you might think this complicated, but our electricity bill remains normal.
I even recharge the battery in my wheelchair from 9 in the evening. Our electric life mainly exists in the night hours.
I am not an environment freak that wants to save the world, but just like to save my own money. I remember once seeing an elderly lady in the supermarket with her granddaughter. She was buying eggs and the granddaughter intervened. “No granny, not those eggs, they are not environment friendly. take those from the hens living in natural circumstances”. They were 50% more expensive, but granddaughter was being kind to the hens If granddaughter had known what she was talking about, she would have realised that battery chickens are forbidden in Switzerland and they all have room to take a walk on their farms. I am also sure that grandmother did not have so much money to buy the more expensive eggs.
However it goes without saying that I am careful of what I use in my daily life and avoid using plastic where I can, or at least give it back to the recycling depot. Even our newspapers are collected once a month for recycling. Of course we have computers and a television, you just have to keep everything in its place. I switch my computer off and disconnect it when it is not being used: it is just common sense. I do not live a life of reduction, if I had wanted to, I could have become a nun I suppose.
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