I love delphiniums although I read that they are quite poisonous
I love delphiniums although I read that they are quite poisonous
The air conditioning plastic pipes for the tents at our local trade fair.
A street artist making bubbles
A sculpture outside a hotel in our town
Being a golden oldie, I no longer really get eager about things today. I look forward to certain things, like the birth of my first grandson this year. Last year I learned the real meaning of becoming eager.
When workmen take over your daily life and when you live behind scaffolding for eight months you will be glad one day to see the end of it all. Your new collegues are the workmen that greet friendly when they begin their scraping and drilling in the early morning hours. They are always present, they cover your garden in plastic so that they can pile up the material they remove from the walls.
No problem, one day they will be finished and they will go. They arrived in April for a so-called six month job, and they were still there after six months. You began to hate the men in white, you were tempted to hide their machines when they went home in the evening.
They even had a locked iron door at the back of the house to stop people climbing onto the scaffolding when they went home. One day the lock had disappeared and no-one found it. They asked me if I knew anything and of course I said “no” but I am sure they did not believe me. I do not know where the lock went and I did not care, none of my business. We were finding screws and nuts and bolts all over our garden, so I collected them. No-one seemed to miss them and they were the sort of special additions that might be useful one day.
And so I discovered eagerness. I was counting the days when the scaffolding would be removed, when my garden would become a garden again and when I could lead my life without having iron bars in front of me or being able to have a midday sleep without the perpetual vibrations of a drill or pneumatic screwdriver. After eight months they left I would so liked to have said goodbye to Mario, Luigi, Ali, and how they were named, but they just disappeared without a word and it was quiet, peaceful. I waved goodbye to the last truck loaded with the metal scaffolding (in secret of course) and the lock to the door on the scaffolding never did turn up again, or perhaps it is in my garden cupboard. 🙂
Horses are not really known to be furry or hairy, but now and again you find a breed that has a bit more hair than the others. This was the case of Guiness, a shire breed. He lived in the stables across the road and the owner told me she had travelled herself to Ireland to bring him back to Switzerland when he was still in his foal years. I often walked past the stables and would take my photos of Guiness. He was used for riding when he was younger, but was now over 20 years old and no longer as fit as he was, so he lead the good life in the stables. It seems that rheumatism was making itself noticed and one day he was no longer there. I missed this wonderful horse with the furry feet.
Horses came and went and I still paid my visits.
One day this horse at the stables decided to have a closer look at the camera. I had never seen a horse before with hairs growing on its chin and nose. Was it the new bearded race of horses? No idea but it was certainly something completely different. I am keeping an eye on this horse to see if its whiskers will grow longer. Perhaps that is where the horsehair blankets come from.
If you have early mornings like this then it must be Autumn. It will be a sunny day and temperatures quite good, early twenties C are prophesized. Yesterday was a beautiful day and I went for a wheelie in my chair. I decided not to visit the town fair this time. You can have too much of a good thing, but took the back way into town.
Swiss reform church is on the left, where my sons were christened, and on the right the so-called Muttiturm which also has a small theater inside. Blue skies were the order of the day, the wind had now subsided and it couldn’t be better.
The weather was so good that even the workers were doing what they could outside. This is my No. 1 son who was busy paining a tank. I decided to wheel past his company to see what he was up to: working outside on a sunny day – what could be better?
It also seems to be the time for the street musicians. Whenever I visit the town, which is most days, there is always someone playing an instrument on the street. This guy was standing outside the local book store and was quite a good guitar player, singing as well. Even week days are interesting in our town.
Yesterday evening No. 2 son paid a visit to see how the old folks were fairing up and to give us a report on the development of my grandson who seems to be doing quite well. He is now independent, walking everywhere. It only seems like yesterday he was on the milk train. My son told me he is becoming quite a handful exploring the world around him.
I bought myself a new salad drier yesterday. No big deal, but the one I had was at least 30 years old. You know, the things that look like a plastic wash spinner. You wash the salad and put the leaves in the basket. The basket turns by means of a leaver and the water gets thrown out of the salad, which makes it nice and dry for mixing into the sauce. They used to be quite reasonable in price, but that was 30 years ago. I now seem to have a super model, although it is a well know Swiss product. The last one I had was about 15 Swiss francs, this cost me over 30, so it should be a good one. If this one lasts for the next 30 years who cares. I am now 71 years old so my sons and even grandson can inherit it. There seem to be some things in the household that grow old with you.
And now I should begin to explore my apartment to get a few things done. Life is not only blogging in the mornings. I have to set my priorities and I planned on cleaning out one of my kitchen cupboards today, time permitting, although time is not something that waits for me unfortunately.
I took the path through the cemetery yesterday and it seems to be the time of year for the flowers on the various graves. This photo is on the section for cremations where you only get a stone with name and dates in the ground, ashes do not need so much room I suppose.
On this happy note, have a good day everyone.
Je gratte, donc je suis
My "bump" was in 2016, aged 48, when I suffered a stroke. This blog charts my recovery. (Header clipart licensed by pngguru.com.)
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