The more the merrier and I am sure they keep the bees happy.
The more the merrier and I am sure they keep the bees happy.
Looks like this seat is already occupied.
In a shop window
Where the witch parks her broom
If it rains just help yourself
Ritzy, my village, not really, but we have one of the lowest local income tax rates in the area. Luckily a few millionaires decided to build their villas here, even buy an apartment costing more than a million and so they help to keep the tax rate nice and low. A few millionaires have now passed away, but their property has been bought by other millionaires, so no problem.
The village is in two halves. The North side of the main road and the South side. According to which part you live, it might be a little more Ritzy. North is quite Ritzy with its villas and a few farms, even the local castle which now belongs to the State.
Even the South is becoming Ritzy. It is where we live, belonging to the poor of the village in comparison with the Ritzy people, but we even have a villa across the road with all the necessary luxury. I watched it being built and there was even a helicopter engaged for various roof constructions. I have never been in the villa, but apparently the staircase resembles something from the Ewing mansion in Dallas.
We have no shops. The last one left a few years ago because no-one bought anything there. We have a restaurant again, after it changed hands twice a year and was empty for a couple of years. And we have cows. I think they outnumber the people, at least they have taken over the wide open spaces and preventing more houses and villas being built. We now have a senior residence, for golden privileged oldies, if you can afford it.
And do not forget, a river runs through it. Do not visit our village, you might feel like the guy that walked into the Western Saloon and everyone stopped talking and stared at him.
I travelled on my own to Germany for my son’s wedding. The train stopped at our local station. I had a reserved seat which is advisable when travelling on the German Bundesbahn. I remember entering the carriage, seating for 6. It was occupied by five men only and they all seemed to pounce together to put my baggage, just 1 case, onto the rack. Oh the courtesy of the masculine race, I enjoyed it. When I left the train in Mainz to get my next connection they were ready again to help. Unfortunately the next connection to Koblenz was an empty carriage, but then I needed no help for a luggage rack as I left the luggage on the floor, not being a hindrance to anyone. Koblenz to the Mosel valley was a local train and had the locals in the seats. It was not a problem, because when travelling locally people seem to be more relaxed and instead of reading the newspaper, they are ready for a conversation.
My last journey alone to far off places was a little different. There was something wrong somewhere and i just before I went to England for my father’s funeral it was discovered that I had MS and been suffering with it for many years, but it was never diagnosed. OK, no problem, I am one of the lucky ones, and except for my funny way of walking and being a little incapacitated with normal tasks, I could manage.
So I arrived at the airport, walking with a stick, and was directed to a special seat to wait for the plane to be announced with a couple of other stick people: my first experience of special treatment. A young man in airport uniform helped me up the steps to the plane and when landing in London and on the return journey I got the special treatment again.
My days of flying are now finished. I could still manage a train, but it had got a little more difficult now with a walker, but I notice that people are very considerate and kind and complete strangers help with your bags and climbing the steps. Luckily we have those cases on wheels today.
I remember the good old days when we would go on our annual holiday and dad would have to carry the case(s), sometimes tied with string around them as an extra precaution as they were not as strong as those of today.
At least it is a little bit of sunrise worth showing this morning. The dull monotonous lid has lifted a little and perhaps we might even get a little sun today. Even my cat’s water outside was not frozen solid this morning. Admittedly I did leave my bed a little later but I was working on my iPad catching up with stuff. You know sometimes this WordPress thing is like a full time job, with breaks in between to clean the apartment and cook and perhaps read. And I almost forgot, today is the day to iron the bed linen, duvet and cushion covers, from the bed change yesterday, fun.
Yesterday my purse/bag or whatever arrived from Guangzhou in China that I ordered through a Facebook ad. Actually it says that the origin of the purse in South Korea on it, but who cares, as long as it does the job. I spent time yesterday sorting it. There is a section for my money purse, for credit cards, various bits and pieces I need when shopping, and of course a nice big part at the back for my mobile phone. Everything is with zips to separate the various compartments, so I suppose it is just a matter of time before the zips no longer work, but at the moment it serves the purpose. There is also a nice long shoulder strap and a smaller one is suppled if you want to carry it by hand. I am more the shoulder type, cross body. Today I will use it for the first time when I go shopping to see if it works. I no longer need to take the big bag with the camera, as I am driving the car and I cannot take photos on the way with my hand on the steering wheel, unfortunately. I also have my iPhon X camera with me that also serves the purpose.
So I transferred all my junk into this new arrival and suddenly noticed that my driving licence was ot where it should be, in my purse. Big drama, it was 10.30 p.m. I searched in my bag, again in the purse and also on my desk, but nada. Now Mr. Swiss was helping and I decided to go to the garage and have a look in the car. Unfortunately although we have light in the underground garage, it was not enough to see inside the car. At a last look I suddenly saw something bright peeping at me wedged between the driver seat and door. Yes, my driving licence, which probably dropped out of my purse. This should no longer happen as my purse now has more room because I could re-arrange the contents in my new bag. Was I pleased and Mr. Swiss breathed a sigh of relief when I returned with my trophy. If I had lost it it would have been a problem if I got into a police inspection. And I would have to have a new photo to organise a new one.
I am one of the few that still has an original driving licence in paper form, the new ones as plastic cards, but I am keeping mine as it is. There are not many left and I did look a little better on the photo with no grey hair at the age of 38
I also got a larger parcel yesterday of the cat food I had ordered, all special for Tabby and her kidney problems. She always had dry food up to now, but now I also have wet food, so I do it half and half. Breakfast the usual pellets and during the day and in the evening she gets her tuna, beef or chicken in sauce, which she really loves. I can also control better what she is eating.
And now for the daily routine: in the shower, clean the place up and go shopping. It is week-end shopping today, but everything has been planned – on my iPhone of course with a cloud connection to Mr. Swiss who will be sitting comfortably at home reading on his Kindle. Oh the life of the golden oldies!
See you around, have fun and you can now all look forward to the week-end, which no longer exists for the old folks. We have week-ends every day.
My "bump" was in 2016, aged 48, when I suffered a stroke. This blog charts my recovery. (Header clipart licensed by pngguru.com.)
Enjoying life and the empty nest while easing into retirement,
I am Ahmed Abdi, A free Wordpress blogger, story teller and motivational speaker who writes about issues that matter the most. I love writing because it’s a clear reflection of how I perceive the world around me. At here, I will bring you things that are up for discussion. Stories from my community, city and people are what make my writing so interesting and inspiring!
Dil se Dil tak...
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Je crie, donc je suis
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