Some ways like to remain private
Where there is a train, there is a railway
Some ways seem to be endless (taken from the wheelchair on one of my wheelies)
Some ways like to remain private
Where there is a train, there is a railway
Some ways seem to be endless (taken from the wheelchair on one of my wheelies)
If you are lucky, you might get a passion fruit when the flower is finished, although I am not sure they a edible. These are always something special.
There are certain birthdays that have to be celebrated in style, and so when it was dad’s 100th birthday he had a busy day at his care home where he had his own apartment. He was born on 24th September 1915 and it was now 2015. I live in Switzerland since 50 years, but visited dad in London every year when he got too old to travel to Switzerland. Of course the local newspaper, The Dagenham Post, sent a reporter to take a photo and write an article. There were people coming and going all day to see him and in the afternoon there was a party in the home for everyone. Dad was a factory worker all his life and served in the second world war as a soldier. And of course:
even Queen Elizabeth II sent him a birthday card. Dad was never a keen supporter, but on this day he could not stop looking at the card she sent him: to think that even she knew it was his birthday.
7 months later dad passed away and my annual visits to London are no more, but there are some celebrations you never forget.
It all begins at the end of Spring. The first plants are showing buds and there is a promise of flowering beauties in the garden and so the local superarket does its best to show how hospitable they can be. There is even a little hut outside where you can make direct purchases from the plants you choose. I will be quite honest, I rarely buy a summer plant, I take photos of them. they have so many, interesting plants, and often quite expensive. My green thumbs never achieve the permanent garden glory, so it is better to admire them from afar and where could it be better than in the store to preserve their memory. They want to sell the plants, so they are all looking their best, each one spreading its leaves and flower stalks to cover the others. “Buy me” they would say if they could talk, but phosynsthesis does not have a voice. I just look for the flowers saying “take my photo”.
It is hospitality at its best and the gardening furniture is placed next to them which Mr. Swiss appreciates most of all because he can take a comfortable seat whilst I am investigating the newest arrivals (by camera of course).
We now have the first week of July which is not late. After all the American colonists have only just finished celebrating their win over the British intruders and one english rose does not make a summer as they discovered over the pond.
Imagine my disappointment when I arrived at the entrance to the supermarket this morning. There was a yawning void where there used to be delphiniums, roses, and even passion flowers. Even the geraniums had disappeared. Ok, there is a time when they should all be in their boxes and not in individual pots, but it was a shock. I had to take photos of this emptiness to show it was reality. Where have all the flowers gone? They could have asked me if I had interest.
When you see these creeping around on your porch, it is not really a good weather sign. At least it has a house on its back, it is the ones without that I am not keen on. They are all eating machines, but you can keep an eye on them when they have a stripy appearance. It has been raining on and off since yesterday. The advantage is that my brown and parched lawn has a chance to recover. The disadvantage is that I am home bound and cannot go anywhere as I do not have a roof on my wheelchair and returning home with muddy wheels is not ideal in the apartment.
Everything is wet, wet, wet. Yesterday I spent the afternoon out on the porch with the computer and a some bananas with whipped cream as that was all I found to eat for an afternoon break. Suddenly, there was a wind: not just a wind, a mini hurricane and with help from Mr. Swiss I moved the computer inside. My cat Tabby ran and hid under the bed. She said there was too much banging noise from the thunder and that guy was appearing again collecting animals two by two for his boat that was moored down on the river. She said she always gets sea sick which is something worst than hairball production.
The positive side to the problem is that no-one will have to water the garden. We have two, one at the back and one at the front and so we split the job, but it an annoyance for both of us. At least there will be an excursion to the supermarket this morning. We have not prepared a week-end shopping list, but decided to buy what we see. No. 1 son leaves tomorrow on his annual holiday and will be living from spaghetti the next two weeks in Italy which leaves just Mr. Swiss and I alone at home. Now and again we might eat lunch out: nothing posh or exclusive, just a plat du jour in a local restaurant somewhere and at least I do not have to cook. Otherwise it will be fried and quick veg. I too like to have an annual holiday once a year, even if being a golden oldie means I am on an eternal holiday.
Such photos are just a dream at the moment and I only took this one two days ago on a wheelchair tour from the local castle. I have to curl up with a book and make the most of it. I am reading “Outsider by Stephen King at the moment. I find if you do not know what book to read, Stephen King never disappoints. It seems to be his latest book, about a man that is in two places at once. A sort of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde story, however by the time I upload my photos and blog around I only have about half an hour to spare to read. Yes being a golden oldie is one big stress.
Talking of stress, I must go, there are places to hoover and a visit to the shower. And afterwards I have to present myself to the public at the supermarket. I hope the sun shines on you today, I am not sure if it will on me, but this little snail will be glad for every damp place he finds.
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