A cloud of white orchids
A cloud of white orchids
“Where’s the anchor”
“Anchor? The instruction leaflet didn’t say anything about an anchor.”
“Then dive down and have a look.”
“But it’s only a rubber boat, and needs no anchor.”
“They how do you stop it floating further.”
“Use the oars.”
“Those plastic things we got with the boat.”
“I thought they were just part of the packing material.”
When they were overtaken by a tanker and a cruise ship, and the horizon was just sky and water, they realised it would have been perhaps better if they had at least kept the oars, or even had an anchor.
We have a local railway which takes us into the next town. I very rarely use it, because I only need about 10 minutes to get their by wheelchair, and with the car it is more convenient and a matter of 5 minutes.
Our railway functions perfectly but there are always railway workers repairing something, which is the fathoming exercise. What are they actually doing? They appear in groups of three usually, one working, one giving orders and one watchng. We drove past last week and I noticed they were doing something different, but still could not fathom what. A day later I decided to have a wheel down the road to town and they were still there. This time there was a complete group, although there was still one giving orders and one watching, but there was also an extra one to keep an eye on the traffic on the road. And they had rakes and a machine.
As I got nearer with the camera the boss saw me. “Hey men, look good, we are having a photo taken”. Luckily he had a smile on his face, not everyone likes to have their photo taken. I assured him that I was not taken photos of his team, but of the work they were doing which was an interesting subject. Was he disappointed, he could have made the front page of “The Railway Workers Journal”. Luckily he was still working and so were his men and they continued the job. The result of my fathoming was now clear. They had dug large holes in the road surface next to the railway tracks and were now filling it with fresh tarmac.
There are always surprises when you upload your photos. I even got a tatto into the bargain: and I am still trying to fathom out what it is, although I was not taking photos of those good looking muscular guys, of course not.
If only my mood was as elated as these clouds that I saw yesterday hovering over the Jura on a wheelie in my chair, I would be a happy bunny. It is a wonderful morning, the sun is shining the birds are singing, Mr. Swiss has back pains and I have one of those mornigs where various MS symptoms give me a feeling that I might fall if I am not careful. It is safer to sit outside on the computer to give me time to compose myself for the day ahead.
The first task will be to get the red cabbage cooking for lunch and the ham: an easy task for Sunday lunch as it will be cooking on its own with no problems during the morning and I can do my usual thing. Why do my usual thing? A good question, but it keeps me busy and out of mischief. No good just sitting around and digging deeper into darkness. At least I had some nice fresh bread this morning, but only because we had no other choice. It is one of those loaves that you bake yourself for the finishing touches and it was all that we had.
Only this one was not yet baked, but no problem. I cut a few slices and put them in the toaster, very tasty with butter that melts into it and some blackberry jam on top.
And now to move on. I took a wheelie in my chair yesterday, just for an hour and a half. I did not really intend to do more, it was just a chance to get out and about and enjoy the sunny decent weather while it is lasting. One farmer always has a couple of cows outside during the day, the others seem to still be on the night shift on the fields, although I have never seen them so late because I do not do the night shift in my wheelchair. The nice thing about these two were that they were at the top of the meadow just next to the path were two curious cows who remained where they were. They seemed to enjoy my visit and stayed awhile for a few photos. Are black cows the same as black sheep and the other cows tend to disregard them? I don’t think it bothered these two, and I had a feeling they were Holsteiner breed, something better than the rest perhaps.
The weather is still very pleasant although according to signs of the climate change, perhaps we will not have a Winter this year. I am reading a book “Early Riser” by Jasper Ffode, a bit of a fantasy author. It is about an alternative British world where people hibernate during the Winter, although with the help of a super drug which is not available to all. OK, the story goes further with undead, or are they alive, and strict laws etc. etc. I am now 80% through on my Kindle, but it is a captivating story. Apparently Jasper Fforde is one of the new successful authors in this genre and this is his first complete stand-alone book. My problem at the moment is having time to read as I am busy with blogging, photography and keeping up the housework.
When I left the cows and wheeled on I cast a glance at the farmhouse where the cows live and saw these two tractors, ready for a journey. I ventured further on the path and pulled over to let them pass me. The farm seems to belong to two young men and I often see them on my journeys. They both gave me a wave as they speeded past in their relevant tractors. That is the nice thing about country life, you get to know people. I think this was the young man who was repairing a fence once and explained to me why I never see cows during the day, because of the heat and keeping them in the barn until evening. I also wheeled past the local handyman who has his own company. I also got a wave and a greeting as he has repaired a few things in our appartment. I just love village life.
I wheeled on my home path through the local burial grounds. They always have flowers to show. These are probably some of the last before the Winter arrives (if it arrives).
And now to move on. In the meanwhile Mr. Swiss is taking the baked bread out of the oven and I will do something to prohibit boredom like cooking, cleaning and ironing: a woman’s work is never done. This afternoon? I do not know. I was planning to stay at home, but might venture out into the unknown, probably the town.
Have a good day everyone and see you later.
Je gratte, donc je suis
In 2016, aged 48, I suffered a stroke. Now I'm coming through the other side.
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