I think this would be more a rose tree, growing in a neighbouring garden.
I think this would be more a rose tree, growing in a neighbouring garden.
My paternal grandfather was not a hero, but in 1914 when he country ordered him to fight he went and advanced to the front. He was no longer a young man, but they needed everything they had. My dad was on the way, born in 1915 and my grandmother had her two other daughters. So grandad packed the little he had and was on the way to France. His first taste of being abroad were the fields of war.
The badge on his arm means he was in the Medical core and his work? Not treating the injured and dying, but collecting the dead in a truck as my dad told me. He was working class in daily civilian life, as were all our family, and his work was as nightwatchman in the City of London for Lloyds Insurance company. The company had promised him that his work would still be there after completing his army duty for country and King, which it was.
I remember him as being a quiet man, a real grandfather with his knitted jacket and pipe. My dad told me he was a bit of a wild one when a younger man and once spent a night in prison because he had a fight with a guy that in his opinion insulted my grandmother. He loved dogs, but only the greyhounds, those that competed in the races and like to have a bet.
Another little anecdote from my dad. When my grandad came home from his war service he arrived at the door and my grandmother was of course overjoyed to see him. She now had a three year old toddler holding her hand, which was my dad. He remembers asking his mother who that man was at the door. She told him it is your father.
War can be complicated.
The only squirrels I know are the human ones, the ones that squirrel it away somewhere in case it might come in handy. That was one of my mum’s favourite phrases and dad would join her in her collective spirit.
I only saw mum and dad once a year when I wandered off to Switzerland. They had moved to their council house and at last had a bathroom, an indoor toilet and space but the collection of glass jars continued: of course, they now had more room for more jars. It could be anything: a paper clip, a button, a nail, a screw and undefinable objects made of metal, but the main thing was they could come in handy.
One day my dad was left on his own, but the collection continued. I could not achieve a lot for one week in a year on my visit, but I remember once I did a radical tidying up session. He was already asking a day later where that clock was that he always had on the shelf. I broke the news that the clock was no longer working. I think the time on the dial had been the same for the 20 years since I left. And then there were the buttons. Does someone really need over 200 buttons in a glass jar? If he really needed a button he could perhaps buy what he needed in a store. When I departed to Switzerland again he had space on the shelf, or was it the kitchen cabinet and he was probably still missing his glass jars.
He had to move on to a new apartment in his care home later and my friend helped him to sort everything before moving. I was happy to see that he had not taken any glass jars with him full of bits and pieces. He now had new cutlery and cups and saucers and the old crockery that mum and dad had kept for so many years was no longer. He was still talking about the clock he once had.
I think that made me allergic to putting things away that might come in useful. My motto is live as if your were going to move house once a month. It is amazing how that works. On the other hand I wonder if my offspring are shaking their heads at the many books Mr. Swiss and I possess: six bookshelves in the hobby room in the celler and a bookshelf occupying a complete wall in the living room.
As I wheeled into town in my chair yesterday afternoon I almost had second thoughts. The Jura had low clouds and there were spots of rain on my chair. Wheeling in the rain is annoying, especially when you have no protection except for a hood on your jacket, and I do not carry an umbrella. I decided wheel on regardless and hoped it was only a few spots. Luckily it stayed calm. Temperatures were bearable when wrapped up and Saturday there might be something happening in town.
It seems the rainy weather was also keeping the people away from a Saturday afternoon shopping experience, although towns seem to be emptying as time goes by and our civilisation is more online that a living thing. If you need something, have a look in internet and order it. You can choose the size and colour and execution and do not have to stand in a queue in the store or wait until an assistant has time for you. And smaller market towns like Solothurn do not have the choice. Every time I am in town there is a shop less and a restaurant or hairdresser more. You cannot get your hair cut online – yet. My iPhone and iPad even tell me weekly how much time I have spent on the computer. I am pleased to say I have reduced it to a mere hour a week and a few minutes.
It is also becoming a paradise for dogs. People always had dogs, but they were usually at home during the shopping trips. As actual shopping is no longer a fact, the dog comes for the walk and if Fido has to wait outside the shop for a few minutes, there is no problem and of course I can take my photos in peace. This dog even looked into the camera.
Talking of dogs I saw this group as I was approaching the entrance to town. I saw two groups actually and they are the local police that seem to be having a dog training walk.
The stores are also getting into the Christmas spirit and this shop window was full of it. I just wonder who buys this stuff, because I do not partake in the carnival atmosphere of the holidays. I have no spectacular tree to decorate, just small artificial tree that we bought a few years ago. Our Christmas tree has become the TV or a book.
The town cake shop really went for it with their window display. this Father Christmas is edible with cream and all the trimmings, a real sweet creation.
Eventually I decided after an hour it was time to go home. I was lucky that the rain more or less stayed away and I did not want to risk getting soaked. I took the quick way home and did not bother with the river bank. I had a meal to cook for the evening. Nothing that needed a lot of work, but it has always been a little tradition with us that the Saturday evening meal is cooked. Afterwards I uploaded my photos and did a little blog. Mr. Swiss now has a few computers he no longers uses, but in quite good condition. He has now given me his Acer, which is the same as mine. He tried to wipe it clean yesterday but I will now do the rest and see if I can take it over with my details. I already have two wonderful machines, but a third one is always good, although I am not going to equip it with my e-mails. I can always get them via internet if necessary. I would just like more space for my photos and I like fiddling around with computers.
I will now move on, although it is Sunday, the week-end. Mr. Swiss thought it was Tuesday this morning. I have now made a point of announcing the day on his computer in the morning to remind him. I do not have such a problem with days, my weakness lays in names. It can be quite embarrassing when someone you know says hello with your name and you hello back and cannot remember their name. We all have our golden oldie moments.
And now to move on, wishing everyone a good day: take it easy and remember it is Sunday, just in case you might forget.
I noticed our local castle was also showing itself from it better side yesterday with the mountains as a background, so took a couple of photos on the way home.
Je gratte, donc je suis
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