These berries are everywhere in autumn.
These berries are everywhere in autumn.
Of course, because one day it will all be bygone, so why bother.
I really do not hold grudges against anyone, mainly because I tend to get forgetful as I get older.
My cat has a new hobby. She is now 17 years old and was never one for playing with toilet rolls to see how much paper they held or how long they were. Her main interest was a soft bed and food. Now and again she would go on a territorial inspection tour outside, but now she has made a new discovery.
She has discovered the box of paper handkerchiefs next to my bed. Not that she uses them to wipe her nose, she likes to tear little pieces off and examine them to see if they are edible. I did tell her to leave them alone, but the translation from human to meow is not so successful. I told her it was not so hygienic for human needs. It was when she discovered that Mr. Swiss has exactly the same box on the beside table, that the situation was becoming serious.
However Mr. Swiss has found the solution to the problem to remove this edible paper bait: quite simple. He turned the box upside down.
My pictures of England are now memories of East London. The places where I grew up no longer exist. Houses row on row, dirt of 100 years collected on their bricks, built with no electricity as it had not yet been invented. My mother remembered the street being “opened up” to lay the electricity cables, and my bedroom in our old house even still had the gas holders hanging on the wall. Bathrooms and running hot water had also not yet been invented. The toilet was out in the garden in a hut.
And then there came the war, two wars, leaving behind rubble and ruins. Our house was still standing afterwards, although mum was never really sure if that was a good thing or bad. Bad, because we could have been killed, but good because we might have been resettled somewhere much better.
And years later my parents were eventually resettled to a place called Dagenham, just further East of London, but still part of the London conglomeration. They were now living in houses built after the war. Then they were new, but now in the seventies, already showing signs of age and deterioration. They were the “little boxes” once sung in a song. Each house looking like the one next door and the streets row upon row. You now had electricity, gas, and even a bathroom. There was hot and cold running water, but it was still not luxury. Look out the back window and what do you see? A reflection of your own back yard row upon row as in the photo from my dad’s house.
Of course England has wonderful places, countryside, open spaces and fresh air. My parents were working class, knew nothing different and were caught in the vortex of their position in life. moving from East London to Dagenham whch had one advantage which mum and dad were happy about. Dad no longer had the hour underground train journey to work from East London. He could now take the bus at the end of the street.
The chimney seems to be quite outnumbered by the pigeons.
And this gull reserved her chimney for a place on the roof
The carnival season usually in February, perhaps beginning of March, generally around Shrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday. It is part of the culture of our catholic area of Switzerland. Many people take part, it is tradition, dressing up and attending the local carnival balls. Children love it of course. I was never a great carnival person, did not grow up with it. Mr. Swiss was also not a great carnival visitor but would now and again join some of the guys in the evening for a drink in one of the local decorated bars.
We have a hut in the middle of town, belonging to our hot chestnut vending family. It has always been a custom to play a carnival prank on the owners at the carnival time. It has been painted various colours, but now it has got more ornate, and one morning at the beginning of the year the owners find that their hut has been decorated with various carnival subjects. I was in town yesterday and took a photo of their newly decorated roof. The words “Himmel und Hölle” can be translated as “Heaven and Hell” which seems to be the theme for this year.
Basically I suppose when you are a golden oldie, time no longer matters. There is nothing waiting for you, you can please yourself, eat, sleep and live how you want to, although it just does not always work like that. I like to rise in the morning with time on my hands, enjoy the sun rise, potter around, organise the daily rituals like breakfast, computer and afterwards putting everything in order. Unfortunately it does not always work like that. Perhaps there is a residue of Sunday morning lay-ins left, but this morning I was having an adventure dream, something to do with chauffeuring a character from the East Enders soap series (Max Branning of all people) and suddenly the alarm rang. Yes I still have one, why I do not know. Anyhow I slept for a further half an hour decided to find out what happened with my car journey which was actually in the village of Bellach, were I used to work. The dream really did continue but then Mr. Swiss decided to stop hugging the bed and I eventually joined him. At least I had a little adventure in my dreams at the beginning of the day.
As you can see I managed to capture my morning sunrise although a little later, it had already risen, but a good start to the day. So after boring you all with my dreams and moving sleep life it is now back to reality.
I dragged myself into town yesterday afternoon on a wheelie in my chair. It is strange how the sunlight in late Winter seems to illuminate the same scenes in a different way. This was the beginning of my voyage along the side path to the local railway tracks with the main road on the right. Sometimes a train might pass bye, but this time it was a quiet afternoon.
There were some horses grazing on the field over the fence next to the railway tracks. It seems there is a landowner that probably hires out his stables to various horse owners, although perhaps he breeds them as now and again he has foals on the field.
This time there were just a few horses grazing on the field.
I decided to take the long way round to town this time going through the area with various religious buildings, but always the Jura mountains in the background.
This is one of the chapels in the middle of the green fields. In spring the fields are used as agricultural planting space, but always with a different crop. Last year it was wheat, but the year before it was sunflowers, hundreds of them as far as the eye could see. I am hoping for something colourful this year, but currently the grass is growing and leaving a peaceful scenery for a quiet meander through the area.
If you continue you eventually enter the town through the back door, and the first large building you see is the reform church. Both my two sons were christened there. The other building on the right is the Kantons Bank, I mean we are in Switzerland and banks are everywhere: also a form of religion for the wealthy.
And so I continued on my wheelie enjoyed the sights and fresh air and eventually wheeled on home. I had a chicken to cook for the evening meal and a few thoughts to register on my computer.
And now I should really get on with my morning, the world is not only computers and blogs, but there are things happening all around me. Two crows are having a discussion in front of my window about who gets the first choice of peanuts and walnuts and in between I am capturing the moment with my camera.
Have a good Sunday everyone, may it be a good one without stress.
I leave you with a photo of two interesting bushes I saw on my way home yesterday, capturing the shadows of a lamppost caused by the brilliant sunshine.
Je gratte, donc je suis
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