Some things are inexorable Autumn is on its way The leaves are tumbling from the trees They were never here to stay But beauty can be found in everything Of that we can be sure Laying in piles on the ground Cascading down are more Eventually will be an avalanche Are decomposing in the earth The circle of life continues And trees will enter rebirth
Has you brain already melted Has the climate helter-skelted Do not worry, there will be no bump In the States we have Mr. Trump And the Brits have the wild haired Boris Although he has become quite a slow loris We are all marching to do our best The climate is changing, it will not rest Now we grow pineapples on the North Pole Let us frack a little more to achieve our goal There was once a town, but it disappeared It fell into a hole, which was really quite weird But do not despair there is covid to aid It was supposed to go away, but instead it stayed You might think this ditty is a little black Things can only get better, like a film soundtrack
The end of the war 1945, it was VE Day and there were celebrations for peace all over the world. This celebration was in our little street in the East End of London where everyone knew everyone else. It was time to dress up again.
Just a photo, but a photo with many memories. My mum second from left, soon to be married. The other three ladies, sisters and our neighbours. I grew up in the same house where mum lived and our neighbours were still there. I knew all of these ladies, saw them get older together. I knew their mother. They even had chickens in their back garden in their house row. In our street everyone knew everyone else. If the people got married in the meanwhile, my mum would still refer to them by their maiden names. She was not interested in their married names, it was not important. She did not even know their married names. My mum was also referred to by her maiden name.
And so was life in the East End of London, working class, simple but honest. After the war the men returned and there were marriages and children born, but they still had the maiden names of their mothers according to my mum. Time stayed still in our little world. It is amazing how a war can change life for all.
Time goes on and I remember the last time I saw the sisters in the photo: it was at mum’s funeral. They are also no longer, so perhaps they are now celebrating in another place, another time, who knows.
The neighbour’s cat has found a new place Waiting for Winter when the birds are in place He wants to be the first to have the best choice When they flutter past he will not use his voice Better to be quiet, do not raise suspicion You have a job to do, you are on a mission On the other paw, I don’t think I’ll wait My bowl is full of food, I must contemplate A bird in the paw is worth more than in a bush When they arrive I will know how to push Feline meditations bring the best results Bird for dinner and tea, my appetite exults
Mum had a loud voice Dad could not hear so well Mr. Swiss says I should speaker quieter Although I do not yell It must be in the genes My voice is loud and clear At home I had no choice I spoke so you could hear I do not mind a din It reminds me of my home All my aunts would shout Was a family syndrome
Always hanging around Nothing else to do Of course if a fly flies past I will take a view Weave him in my threads and keep him for dinner If you are a spider You are always the winner Life can be monotonous But I don’t want to rant As long as food has wings I don’t care if it’s incessant
This used to be the local railway station in the village. Admittedly it was many years ago, before my time in the village. I can hardly believe that this little house was enough to house the waiting passengers, but things change. The little building is still there, no longer used, just a memory in time. It has often been sprayed and the paint removed again.
Of course the new station is something completely different, but the old one remains. There are some things that are irreplaceable.
Even cats like to watch their favourite programmes, which usually deals with bird life. At least our Nera was a keen bird fan.
Otherwise television is good to have, but if I do not have it I can still survive.
I began with the BBC, the british television. It was black and white and a very small screen, but that was how it all begun. With time the television sets got bigger, wider, and we had another TV programme, so there were two.
And then I moved to Switzerland. It was just at the time when colour television was beginning. For my first two years I had no television, but then I met Mr. Swiss, we got married had a home and of course a television. So now it was Swiss television, three stations for the three languages. One in German, one in Italian and one in french. The German programme was basically soijen so-called high German, but a lot of programmes were being broadcast in Swiss German. I suppose that was the reason why I learned this strange language.
And then we got satellite TV and were receiving programmes from all over mainland Europe.
Today we have a television with at lease 100 channels from many countries to choose from. I was mainly watching the German speaking TV leaving the choice up to Mr. Swiss as I had other hobbies than watching a square box every evening.
However with the years, age changes things. Now Mr. Swiss no longer bothers with his Swiss programmes and gradually the British TV has moved in. I have 5 channels to choose from and have gradually got back to the British way of life. I even understand British politics again.
Television is not so bad really, you just have to choose the right programmes.
You cannot ignore this word, without mentioning a few of our politicians. John Bercow was for many years the speaker in the British Houses of Parliament, his job being to call the members of parliament to order. I loved this man, he made it all worth while watching the daily broadcasts from the parliament. This man was definitely not obnoxious, just those that he had to deal with.
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