
I do not know why they have this name, in England, buit apparently my grandmother said they reflected on the skin when you held them close. At the moment they are evefywhere in our meadows.

Sometimes things do not upload onto the computer as you want it. I took this photo of a grasshopper and the grasshopper probably hopped or moved, or perhaps the photographer was nervous. This was the result, a bluirred photo of grasshopper, not hopping but shaking in its claws. However, no problem, one day I will succeed with a prize winning photo of such an insect.

Am I feeling blue? No, not really. The sun is shining, although there is a nip in the air, but I will survive. Today a day at home. Various items to deal with, invoices to pay and organsing finances, another reason to feel blue, but I will survive.
It will be a spaghetti evening, always a positive moment in the diet. Everything under control and no surprise problems. Tomorrow is May Day, but not a big celebration in Switzerland, at least no holiday. I think our socialist parties hold a few meetings in the villages and towns, but I will not be attending. In my younger days in England I was quite the socialist. I remember when my friend and I attended a meeting in the local hall where our then socialist prime minister, Harold Wilson, held a speech and we are sang “The Red Flag” which was sung to the tune of a German Chairstmas Carol
Sorry to get political, but the sins of teenage life in Britain. Today I am non political at the age of almost 80. although I always had a soft spot for Harold Wilson, the British socialist prime mister in my younger years.

I decided to make Rösti this evening with a Swiss sausage and veg. Rösti is a Swiss potato dish made basically with sliced, or grated potatoes and slowly fried in a pan on both sides, something like a potato pancake. You turn the Rösi after 15 minutes to brown it on both sides. And now I should begin to peel the potatoes, otherwise it will not be ready for our evening meal.

This rocking chair belonged to my mother-in-law. I remember when she bought it and she spent her days always sitting in this chair watching televisition or doing her handwork, either kitting or crochering . When she passed away it came to us and so it now sits in the corner of our bedroom, very rarely used, but it suits the room, and holds many memories for us.

Very rarely do we have guests for dinner. It is just my son and I in the evening, I cook and he eats (with me). Do we have conversations? Yes but usually the same subjets. He is autistic, so the conversations are generally on the same subjects. He works during the day, and eventually comes to the table and I serve the food. I ask how was the day, and he tells me what he was working on at the machine in his company. If anything interesting has happened, he tells me, and then the conversation is more or less finished. However, his hobby is music and the radio is always playing at the table, usually our local Swiss Pop music station. My son suddenly takes a closer look at the radio to see who is actually singing a certain song, although he generally knows, and just wants to check. He then tells me all about the circumstances of the recorded song. Naturally with time, I know all the singers and the songs, a real pop music mother.Table conversation just revolves on the songs and singers, but I enjoy it, so no problem.
When we have finished the food, I clear the dishes away into the machine, and he automatically begins to tidy the kitchen. Her really does it perfectly and when we are finished I have a spotless kitchen and the dishwasher is operating. He usually operates the dishwasher when we are finished.
If I do have visitors, usually my other son and family, conversation is generally about latest developments at work. Mr. Swiss eats in his golden oldie home, but I remember the days when he was at home, and then he liked peace and quiet when eating. However those days are long gone and I must add, I prefer a talkative climate at the table.
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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.
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