I must admit I have never heard of the word “Flatware” as a description for what I know as cutlery. Here is a section of my spoons, It looks a bit like a mixture, but they have collected in my kitchen for daily use.
We have our “better” cutlery, but it is rarely used. For me and my son alone it is not worthwhile. Perhaps we might have visitors one day, and then it might be used.
There was a time, many years ago to my mother-in-laws time, when a family would be proud to own silver cutlery. It was cusutom to give the childlren a piece, perhaps just a spoon, or a fork, as a Christmas gift or birthday gift every year. When they were older, they would have a complete set when they eventually had their own household. However, no longer so important. Silver cutlery is not longer popular and I do not even like it. Too much special clearning on the silver.
There is a Belgian artist, , René Magritte, who I very much like. His trade mark is painting a man in a bowler hat with an apple in front of his head. What he can do, so can I. Here is the neighbour’s cat, who kindly sat for this painting, hoping that it would one day hang in a local gallery. Unfortunately, he ate the apple afterwards, so that was the end of his fame.
Here is the original, so you can take your choice for the better version, although I know which one I prefer.
After a search, I found a stool. It was in our hobby room in our cellar and belonged to Mr. Swiss drum set. Unfortunately it is no longer in use, he no longer plays. However son No. 2 is gradually moving the drums to his home in another part of Switzerland.
In the meanwhile I no longer really use this room, so my good friend is using the space for a private business she has, as a sore room.
Do not ask me for what she needs these various objects, but she has her reasons. However, I did find a stool amongst it all, but it seems the lady will no use it to rest her legs.
This local Chemist suprised me pleasantly yesterday after an urgent visit. I had a problem, healthwise, on Friday evening. The first surprise was that we had a telephone number we can call, a special number for help. I called, gave all my particuilars with my problem and was told a doctor would call me back in half an hour. In about ten minutes he called. I explained my problem. It was an official Swiss doctor, not a scam I would add. He asked for my e-mail address and a few minutes later I had a perscription for medicine. He was helping me over the week-end and if necessary I could visit my doctor on Monday. I then went to town on Saturday to this chemist. It is a well known chemist in our town and has been there many years.
She had a look at the e-mail and confirmed it was absoluitely officiel and gave me the prescribed medicine. We had a conversation and she told me that this chemists are also authorised to give antibiotics if necessary. I was so glad, as it meant that when my doctor was closed at the week-end and I had an urgent need for a certain medicine they would give it to me. Ok, there is a lot more to explain, but I was relieved that at last there would be help when urgently needed. I now have an online doctor.
It is a nice building, very old, but often modernised to cope with todays use. Is is the golden oldie home where Mr. Swiss now lives. I noticed that I was graually being overwhelmed by looking after Mr. Swiss, He is a few years older than I am and I never realised what could happen when you get older. The body no longer does what it should and the mind forgets, sometimes losing the connection with life and reality.
I do not know if this could be qualified as injustice, but it is not fair. The person by your side for many years, is no longer the same. Often he does not realise it and that makes matters worse. Disagreements occur, differences of opinon, It was realised that this was no way of life for me or my autistic son. Luck in my predicament was that a suitable senior home was just a few minutes away from where we lived. The process began. In the meanwhille I noticed the difference in my husband. He had lost his appetite and I had to get help with his daily routine. Eventually he fell at home, the ambulance took him to the hospital and they discovered that he actually had pneumonia. After his stay in the hospital, I had in the meanwhile organised his stay in the local senior home. It was accepted. This was almost four years ago.
He found it an injustice that he was no longer at home and still does, but I could visit him regularly. With the years I noticed how he was changing, no longer the man he was. Yes, it hurts, but he is in a good place now. I am still in our apartment with my No. 1 son, and No. 2 visits and helps all he can although he is in another part of Switzerland.
I still visit but no longer so much. I realised that he often does not realist that I was actually there. I could write more, but it does not really belong here. Yes, inustice has many faces.
I am Ahmed Abdi, a Wordpress blogger and storyteller who searches for stories that inspire people. I love writing because it’s a reflection of how I perceive the world around me. Lost in a world of endless chaos in my childhood, Unforgettable moments of tragedy and triumphs taught me the art of storytelling where I found myself through letter writing and then turned into stories but then sadly had lost everything I wrote for years. In 2018, I decided to create a Wordpress blog site that would allow me to store and retrieve every piece. Stories from my community, city and people are what make my writing so interesting and inspiring! I’m a tea lover so a cup of tea sometimes makes my blog.
"Summer is the Season of Inferior Sledding" -- Inuit Proverb. Martha Ann Kennedy's Blog, Copyright 2013-into perpetuity, all rights reserved to the author/artist.
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