RDP Sunday: Colour

Impressions of September monthly market in Solothurn

How many different colours can you see? There are so many you cannot count them all. Now my dad would probably see only half of the colours because he would have difficulty to sort out the browns from the greens, perhaps even a red might be confusing. Yes, he was colour blind. My mum would have to take a good look before he went anywhere, just to make sure that his feet were both wearing the same coloured socks. Perhaps he might have a brown sock on the right foot and a green one on the left.

And now let us turn the clock forward. My youngest son was a teenager and had a sight test at school. It was then that they discovered he needed glasses. No big problem, many need glasses. Mr. Swiss had glasses when I met him. My glasses came later in life due to a computer most probably. At school they were very thorough with sight tests and so my son was given the dotted pictures in various colours where numbers were shown: perhaps there was a 5 in pink dots with a brown background of dots and No. 2 son had to recognise the number. Sometimes he saw a shape and sometimes he saw nothing. In other words it was proven that he was completely colour blind  – history repeats itself. Now and again he would also be dressed for school and I had to inspect his feet to make sure that they matched in sock colour.

His dad was not colour blind and I was not colour blind, but my dad was colour blind. Now it was all my fault that No. 2 son could not see the difference when choosing the socks to wear. I base it on socks, because they always arrive in pairs – if they are the same colour. I was a carrier of the gene.  My colour blind son passed the driving test and I asked how he could see if the traffic lights were red, yellow or green. He said quite easy, they have different shades (note shades, not colours).

Now we have to go into the details of the problem. Women are rarely colour blind, although it can happen but daughters from a father can carry the colour blind gene and I was a carrier, so No. 2 son was colour blind. He has now become a father to a son, so I am wondering how this will turn out.

I asked how does a woman become colour blind, it is possible. She must be the daughter of a father that is colour blind and a mother that is a carrier, like myself- Yes life’s colours can be complicated. Apparently animal eyes are not even capable of seeing colours. My cat says who cares, If it moves and smells good, then eat it. Colours make no difference, they don’t smell or have a particular taste.

RDP Sunday: Colour

RDP Saturday: Lost

I never get lost, but there are other things that do.

iPhone X

For example Mr. Swiss and I both have a mobile phone. They are our lifelines to the outside world, they accompany us wherever we go, at least they should, but nobody’s perfect.

“Have you seen my phone.”

“No idea.”

“Can you call me?”

And so I call Mr. Swiss and somewhere in a dark corner we both hear a phone ringing and we follow the sound until we find it. I am also not innocent. Mr. Swiss calls my number and eventually it is somewhere in the pocket of a jacket, in my walker, or perhaps next to the bed.

There is of course another problem which can happen. I call Mr. Swiss, or he calls me, and we hear nothing. This is either because Mr. Swiss forgot to charge his phone and it is dead, perhaps he muted it, or mine is still on flight mode because I switch it off through the night to guarantee a good sleep and forget to switch it back on again. Mr. Swiss only gets  the voice on my phone telling him I am not available. It also might be that I have switched the telephone to mute because WordPress are continuously reminding me that I have a like or comment. That does not bother me at all, it’s alive and someone is communicating. It bothers Mr. Swiss as he might be reading a book and watching a TV programme and all I see is a flashing light from the screen if it needs me.

And so two golden oldies are constantly searching for their mobile phones.

RDP Saturday: Lost

RDP Friday: Canal

Derendingen 14.04 (18)

Welcome to Derendingen. Never heard of it? It is next to Zuchwil and Zuchwil is next to Solothurn in Switzerland and a river runs through it called the Emme which eventually empties into the river Aare which also happens to run pass our village. Now I am sure you are in the picture. Never heard of the Emmental, place where they have cheese with holes in it? Of course and the Emme gives the cheese and the valley the name. Very few outside of Switzerland know that the Emme flows through many places, one of them being Derendingen.

Derendingen is a 5-10 minute drive from where I live, according if the traffic lights are green or red and the best they can do for a canal is The Emme. Our car salesman is in the village of Zuchwil and once when Mr. Swiss had some car business there, he dropped me off at Derendingen to wait for him in a restaurant, but I spent some time taking photos of course.

People go for kayak practice on the Emme in Derendingen which explaines the coloured poles in the river. It it the nearest we get to a canal.

Derendingen 14.04 (24)

It gets quite adventurous in some places with wooden barriers, although I am not really sure what they are for but the water flows over them.

Derendingen 14.04 (23)

And there is a bridge that goes over the Emme in Derendingen: another poplar place for riding your kayak. There is an actual kayak club.

Derendingen 14.04 (25)

And one point it gets quite adventurous with rocks and stones: a real adventure playground for those perhaps river rafting, although I have never seen a raft on this river.

I am now sure that for those enjoying visiting far off places, Derendingen is now on the top of your list and do not forget, it might not have a canal, but a river runs through it.

RDP Friday: Canal

RDP Thursday: Intimate

class-of-56-57-11-years-old Teesdale

The first school was a mix. A class of boys and girls from the age of 5-6 for 2 years. It was my first contact with boys as such, but at that age they just looked a bit different to girls. I do remember the playground break. We would play kiss chase now and again. The girls ran and the boys chased and if they caught you there would be a wet sloppy mark on your face afterwards, nothing too serious, but this was more than sixty years ago. Funny thing is I can remember some names and now and again one or two might appear in Facebook, now elderly gentlemen of course. That was the beginning and end of anything approaching intimacy.

The next school was girls only – see photo. I am in the middle row, eighth from the right and we were all wearing our dresses with socks and shoes. Blue jeans were still a cowboy dress and in the fifties had not yet reached Great Britain. We were not even allowed to wear trousers at school and actually we girls never even thought of it.

At my next school I started at 11 years of age and finished when I was almost 17 years old  and boys? It was more like a nuns convent, still no boys to be seen. We were all dressed in uniform, the only time it showed body details was if you shortened the skirt according to the fashion of the day. Although even then the overall impact was spoilt by flat brown shoes, so nothing to encourage the other sort.  The male part of the school was in another building in another part of London because there was no room in our building to have boys and girls together. The highlight in our school was the German guy that taught German conversation. He was the only member of the male species we ever saw, on a sort of exchange and he was a good looker. I often wondered how it was for him surrounded by so many female teachers with 500 girls. I never got to be in his class, I was not programmed for university and was in the commercial course. Men did not learn typing or stenography.

I remember in the last class we had a social event together with the boys school, but even then I never really got to know any of them. 16 year old girls and boys do not really have the same outlook on life.

Yes, I lived a sheltered childhood, so all the more reason to make up for lost time when I left school and that is all you are getting from my intimate side of life. Valentines Day – no, not for me and today as a golden oldie I only know of its existence due to social media who seem to be wishing everyone a happy one.

RDP Thursday: Intimate

RDP Wednesday: Innovative

World of Information 25.05.2016 Exhibition 10010ENTER0101 (35)

And it all began with something like this
A terminal and a keyboard and now you were in bliss
Today I bought a new camera, and also got a lens
But believe me when I was finished, I was almost round the bends
I have a online company and they are very good
And so I sat on my computer and did the things I should
I even have a list with passwords and all that stuff
But at my first attempt it did not seem to be enough
And then I got a kaptcha with photos showing cars
there were also bridges and busses and shopfronts with steps and bars
But it did not want to eat my texts and so I took to the phone
I called the company and spoke to a human, one with flesh and bone
He was very good and said my name was my e-mail address
That was my mistake as Angloswiss was far too less
And now the deed is done and my card will pay the bill
But at the same time Mr. Swiss was also ready to kill
They have a new login system at the bank to protect you well
But when you reach 80 years, it really makes you yell
So imagine two golden oldies, whose inventive talents are gone
Let’s just switch on the TV and retire to our salon

RDP Wednesday: Innovative

RDP Tuesday: Leaflet

Post

Leaflets block your letter box. The letter box is overflowing, you can see the various colourful sheets of paper poking through. Mario now has a pizza delivery with at least 10 varieties. You have the telephone No. so all you need to do is call him and half an hour later the Mario, or Giovanni, or whoever, will deliver the pizza. Another leaflet to keep because it might come in useful.

Now, wait a minute, the local electronic shop has a sale. If you examine the leaflet carefully you find that the television you bought a month ago is now half price, if only you had waited. And that computer is three hundred francs cheaper. Shall I or shall I not, can I afford it? I will put the leaflet on one side and think about it. There is a new restaurant opening in town and if cut out the stamp on the leaflet and take it with me, I get a free drink with the meal, but it’s a vegetarian place and I like a nice juicy steak on my plate, although a mixed salad would go well with it. But wait, the local butcher has sent a leaflet telling me that beef is a special offer, but it is imported, not the local cows. I think I will throw that leaflet away, do not trust it.

The local supermarket is offering pasta, two for one. The leaflet says that if I buy a paket of spaghetti and a paket of noodles, or even two packets of each, I only have to pay for one. Put it one side with the others.

Memories of the working days when I would send kilos of leaflets all over the world advertising our products, translated into languages that I had never heard of. Single leaflets would be sent to the various customers showing the newest developments. Perhaps piles of leaflets would be placed at an exhibition somewhere, all in the name of advertising to sell. And perhaps they would arrive in a letter box somewhere in deepest Asia, or Africa, even the States and someone would put it on one side, because it might just come in useful one day.

I will have a look my leaflets in detail later when I have time. I now have to sweep the leaves up in the garden, the wind has blown them everywhere. It’s that time of the year, they are lying everywhere advertising that Autumn is around the corner.

leaf storm

And now there is a ring at the door. It’s Mario with the pizza delivery. What would we do without the leaflets?

RDP Tuesday: Leaflet

RDP Monday: Flare

Schlumbergera

Christmas cactus is a nice plant when it flowers, but let’s face it, the flowering only really happens at Christmas. I know there are exceptions, but generally we all wait until our cactus throws up its buds in Winter to add some colour to the season.

I had a look in wikipedia to see how it all happens where they grow in the wilds of South Eastern brazil where they originate. I did not know that either, but it seems they tend to grow on the heights of the trees and now and again shed a leaf or two that falls to a lower branch of the tree. It settles nicely on the angle where a branch has grown and decides to begin to grow.

I am not in Brazil, but in Switzerland and my Christmas cactus is growing in a pot. It has finished flowering and has decided to wander, but has nowhere to wander so is having a root flare up in its pot, which can be seen on the above photo. I felt sorry for it and  decided to give it a helping hand and today took a new pot and filled it with earth. I removed the leaves or whatever they are called with the roots and planted a couple in the new pot.

Schlumbergera

I am now keeping my fingers crossed and hoping for a wonderful flowering cactus, now two, at the end of the year. You never know. If they grow in the angles between branches and the trunk of trees, I am sure they have a good survival chance in a pot of earth.

Schlumbergera

RDP Monday: Flare