A yellow bromelia
A yellow bromelia
Along the River
The dog seems to be showing us the way to go
Spring cleaning of street signs. They even had a portable washing machine for the purpose – our local village.
An Easter egg tree in the village
A street musician in town with a strange instrument.
A movable seat
I always found it intriguing that our meat department in the local store find it necessary to exhibit their products with name and amount of time the meat has been stored: in this case 4 weeks. It reminds me of a modern art exhibition. It is labelled dry aged, but I do not know what that is supposed to mean. You can even buy this meat, if you can afford it. It is probably the butcher’s pièce de résistance and perhaps it might be sold in an auction, almost exclusive. I am not a vegetarian and my dad always found there are enough cows walking around, so they must be there for something. That is naturally a matter of opinion.
There is also a selection of entrecôte. I am not sure if this belongs to the Dada movement or cubism. Perhaps just plain impressionism or is it realism. I decided to move on and buy some sausages – less complicated and cheaper.
When two people get together that are both bookworms then you have to get the books somehow organised. This is just one example of a bookcase in the living room, the rest are distributed in six other book cases in our hobby room. When you read in two languages, German and English, the problem gets more complicated.
However there is one book that I always wanted to read and my dad (born 1915) had it in his possession and passed it onto me. It was “Dracula” by Bram Stoker, one of the first horror stories I had read and it impressed me. Written in the form of letters and diary entries it began with the visit of a Jonathon Harker to a mysterious castle in Transylvannia where count Dracula lived to organise the sale of property in England. It is absolutely nothing very much to do with the various films that have made about this Dracula. It seems that Bram Stoker based the story on a dream he once had, but who knows. I still have the book but it seems to have disappeared as many objects do as the years go past. It is a very old edition and lost a few parts of the bindings over the years, but can still be read.
It is one of the books that the anti Kindle people make examples of the preference of real books over electronic. It smells like a book (a little musty) and feels like a book. The book lovers forget to say that it is also falling apart like a book does with the years. I had read it many times.
We have many such old books in our collection, mostly from my dad’s family. I see Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar Allen Poe in the row of old books: another favourite I shared with my dad. And on the end a bible. I think in the olden days everyone had a bible somewhere in the collection.
I have become a Kindle reader, do not bother so much with books as they are often too heavy for me to hold. Perhaps one day books will no longer exist, replaced by the electronic word. The main thing is that we can still read them and treasure them. Give me a book any time over a film.
Now we are settled into the Spring slowly but surely, meaning not a lot of action in the moring and just watching the plants grow and flower. Yesterday No. 1 son appeared in the garden with our trolley loaded with my two pots of calla that spend the Winter in the cellar. They are now back in the garden. I mentioned it to No. 1 son that he could fetch them at some time, and he surprised me yesterday afternoon: autistic people never forget. Of course they are just two pots of earth at the moment, but somewhere deep down my calla tubers are beginning to awake. I mixed some fresh earth with them and gave water. Now it is just a matter of waiting for some action.
I had another surprise visitor in my kitchen sink this morning. It was a spider. My sink is slowly becoming a water hole for various insects. The spider was no great problem and had difficulty taking a walk on the metal. Eventually he settled on the plug and so it was easy to remove him and shake him into the garden where it belonged.
I had a less welcome visitor at the edge of the garden. The first slug of the year and I hope one of the last. It was a smaller one, and on ground level. I hope he does not reached my raised bed with the parsley which seems to be No. 1 in the hit parade of slug food. We had rain last week but since only sun, although the ground is still quite damp below which is an ideal slug surrounding.
As No. 1 son was active I told him it would be a good idea to now put the bird house in the cellar. The birds had picked it clean and also the ground below was now quite clear of bird seed. He completed the job with no problem and I am glad. Things are now beginning to look a bit more tidy in the garden. I even managed to remove some weeds. I am not so good at bending for such work, but I discovered that I can manage a few minutes during the day and gradually I can see the plants developing that my gardener planted in Autumn. I called her yesterday and they will arrive next week for a couple of hours to do some general care of my various bushes and plants.
In this wonderful weather I should really get out and about again with the camera to make the most of it, but have had too little time for fun. Yesterday afternoon I dropped Mr. Swiss off at the doc and picked him up again when he was finished. In the meanwhile I drove home which is only a five minute drive. It was not worth parking in the park house and waiting an hour until he was finished. I could use the time at home for some computer stuff.
Today is Friday and this afternoon I will be on my way again for the week-end shopping. I now have a new system that I will buy for Monday morning as well. This means that I no longer have the Monday morning stress of tidying up the apartment and shopping in one morning. I never go into town on Monday in any case, unless it might be market day, and so I can just as well do the shopping in the afternoon. There is never a big stress in the store on Monday.
And now to clear away my sticky breakfast remains from my bread and honey at the computer and to get down to the necessities of life, like a shower and hoovering. A woman’s work is never done, but quite honestly I need it. Just sitting around and looking out of the window is not my thing. Have a good day, enjoy, and a spring greeting from the local cemetery from me.
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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