One Word Sunday: Home

my cOn the Porch

Home is being surrounded by comfort, safety and the daily routine. I think this sums it up for me: my walking stick, the walker in the distance and my computer. This is outside on the porch, but inside it would be similar. I would be in the kitchen is the only difference.

And at the moment I have my daily birds –  here some green finches.


One Word Sunday: Home

RDP Sunday: Home

Castle Waldegg 24.08 (6)

I have always had a home, but there are places where you feel comfortable. Growing up in the streets of East End  London it was my home because I knew nothing else. We were not privileged, working class. The main road was a market with stalls, and the neighbours were mostly people that my mum grew up with. She still called them by their maiden names, although the names had all changed. The school friends had married but it was the place where you felt comfortable. We all spoke the same language, english with a cockney accent-

The big journeys were up to London, meaning the West End and the City of London where the tourists flocked to see the sights: St. Pauls Cathedral, Buckingham Palast, shopping down Oxford Street to name a few. We lived there, we were not tourists, and we had it all in our own back yard, but up West was up West, and we were still the cockney working class.

Life goes on, and homes change. I think the first three years of my life in Switzerland were homeless. The first two in Zürich and afterwards a year in the area around Solothurn until I met Mr. Swiss when I had a home again.

And now I have my probably last, but best home of all. We live in a village that we share with the cows and the hedgehogs and some humans of course. We have no shops, but a walk along  the main road or the local train brings us to the market town of Solothurn. We have a castle and above all we have wonderful countryside framed by the Jura mountains to the North (in the photo)  and a view towards the South of the alps on a clear day. What more do I need? Switzerland has become my home and I even speak the local dialect of Swiss German after 50 years. I feel at home here and the feeling is good.

RDP Sunday: Home

One Word Photo Challenge: Home

Tabby 01.07 (1)

The good old days before the builders moved in and turned our home into a scaffolding encased skeleton where we could sit outside in the summer, eat our meals outside and above all our feline could make herself comfortable where she wanted to. You can have as many comfortable chairs with cushions as possible, but the cat, she prefers the table – must be some sort of feline logic.

And yes, how I long for those days, but they will return: next summer we will be savouring our home again.

One Word Photo Challenge: Home

Warmed up Daily Prompt from 2013: Home, soil, rain – The Return of the Worms

I almost didn’t do this on, as I did it before. Yes I was fooled, I though this stupid joke about rehashed prompts had finished. Nevertheless I decided not to throw the towel in (where did I hear that before) and write a second prompt on the same subject. Of course you are welcome to read my first prompt if you want to. Free Association

New Back Garden

It had been raining in the garden  and the soil was laying bare , the gardeners were working on it.

“Hey Fred what’s going on” said one of the worms that usually lived in the soil.

“Don’t know Joe, looks like we no longer have the grass roots to worm our way through.”

“But Fred, we are open to the perils of the upper world. I can see the crows gathering already.”

“No problem Joe, they are not interested in a worm when they can crack a few haselnuts. What worries me are the blackbirds, they are the sly ones. I think we will have to make a dive for it into the underworld.”

“Hi boys, what are you squirming about?”

“Dolores dive, hide, the top of the world has been removed. We are exposed and Joe said the blackbirds are gathering.”

“Oh, but look over there, I can see a patch of ivy. Let’s go hide.”

“That’s not a good idea Dolores, the snails took over under the ivy a long while ago and they do it all themselves. You know, reproduction, baby snails and all that.”

“Hey Fred, that is nothing new, we can do that as well and much better. I bet you that we can produce more of our kind than the snails in a week.”

“Yea, but they are bigger and have shells. No, I ain’t going in any bush where the snails live.”

“What’s going on, what’s all the excitement?”

“Hi boss, I was just telling Dorlores and Joe not to go where the snails are in the ivy.”

“No-one is going anywhere. This is our home and we are staying.”

“But the lid of the world has disappeared, we will be eaten by a bird.”

“Then do what worms do and worm your way out of the problem. Start eating and bite the earth. Use your brains, you have enough. Your bodies are full of them.”

“You mean”

“Yes of course. We are not worms for nothing. We get buried in the soil, down deep. We are the kings of the underworld and no-one can beat us. Fred, Joe, Dolores you should be ashamed of yourself. You have the brains of a snail. They just hide in their shell, but we carry on regardless. The soil is even our daily food.”

“But I can feel earth tremours, something is happening.”

“Ok, then dive for it.”

Suddenly there were no worms to be seen, they pushed their bodies deeper in the earth and found that the boss had a good idea. After the earth was digested Fred decided to have another look at the roof and it was there again.

“Hey boys and girl, come and have a look, the grass is back.”

“Of course it is” said the boss. “Humans have to have their nice green lawn to show everyone. They call it gardening. So let’s worm our way through a few roots and have fun. Meet you all in the Underworld later. Looks like it might start raining so we should go hide.”

“Yes boss, we all know what happens when it rains on us worms, it turns into a real wash out.”

Warmed Up Daily Prompt from 2013: Home, Soil, rain – The Return of the Worms

Daily Prompt: Our House

What are the earliest memories of the place you lived in as a child? Describe your house. What did it look like? How did it smell? What did it sound like? Was it quiet like a library, or full of the noise of life? Tell us all about it, in as much detail as you can recall.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us HOME.

Ok, something completely different for a starter, not a photo but a video of my street where I grew up. It was an ad on the TV for bread sung by an English singer, Dusty Springfield, and our street in the East End of London was chosen for the setting. I was then about 12 years old when it was recorded. There were two coaches parked nearby for the people acting in the ad, although they only seemed to have a couple of minutes show. We were ordered not to enter the street when it was being recorded. From this short film you can see the street where I grew up from 1946 until 1966 when I left for Switzerland. Mum and Dad stayed a couple of years until the street was demolished. I have often wrote about this street in my Daily Prompt, so I will not be showing any photos. If you delve into some of my masterpieces of blog, you will find a few pictures and now to begin at the beginning.

The street was built in 1884. How do I know this? It was chiselled on a plaque on the wall of the end house. It must have been a memorable occasion for such a plaque to be made. Describe my house: two floors, three rooms up and three rooms down. Not a lot of room for mum and dad and me and grandad downstairs. Before the war when my mum’s family were still young, it housed grandad, gran, her brother and two sisters adding up to six people and that was only downstairs. Upstairs there was a family Munday, mother, father and six children, work that out. When the Munday family left my mum and dad took over the top floor, but not without having the various bugs and other germs removed before they moved in.

We had a garden, although the name “yard” would be more appropriate. Not very big, but my grandparents managed to fit a few chickens in, two dogs, a cat and a duck that swam in the sink in the yard when grandad blocked it to hold water. There was a safe outside. It was not for money, we had none, it was for keeping perishable food as no-one owned a fridge in those days. The safe was still in use when I was a kid as we still did not have a fridge. In Winter it was fine, but in Summer it was useless. We also had a mangle in the yard (for pressing the water out of the wash). It was two large wooden rollers and you turned a handle and the wash went through the rollers: the predecessor of the spin drier. The toilet was also outside in the garden and we had no bathroom and no running hot water. Not that we stunk too much. We heated the water and there was a public baths to have a full wash nearbye.

When I eventually received my own bedroom it was quite an original design. There was a gas holder on the wall. It seemed when the houses were built there was no such thing as electricity, only gas. My grandmother was one of the first to sign for the street to be opened to lay electric cables. There was a fire place in the kitchen with an oven and cooking plates attached which was originally the only possibility to cook. Mum had a gas stove put into the corner of the kitchen which was eventually moved to the top of the three stairs leading to the kitchen/living room.

In those days you put wall paper on the walls. It was the cheapest solution. You scraped away the old paper and stuck a new paper on the wall. Dad’s imagination sometimes ran amok with his choice, but mum liked bright colours so they were happy. I remember my room had painted walls. I do not know who painted it but it was definitely not one of the old masters.

How did it smell? Now that is a good question. Mum seemed to cook greens (a cabbage similar vegetable) every day (it was cheap) so I suppose that was the main smell. Mum and dad both smoked their packet of cigarettes per day and I joined in at the age of around 16, so that was also probably a nicotine aroma hanging in the air.

As far as sounds are concerned, it was loud, very loud. It seemed to be a trade mark in mum’s family that you did not actually talk to each other, but shouting was more effective. Dad was a bit deaf from being in the war on the heavy canons, and working in a factory with the machines, so we got used to saying things in a loud clear voice that he heard it. I remember the arrival of the telephone. In the whole street there was one lady that had a telephone, and we were all using it. Eventually with increasing economic wealth, the houses gradually all had their telephones. We had a little problem. When our telephone rang with its bell tone, dad did not hear it. It was situated downstairs in a room that was kept for Sunday best, so not really used. By the time you arrived downstairs it was no longer ringing, so we had to have an extra bell installed, meaning that when someone called the whole street probably heard it. Needless to say there was no library sound in our house, more like a rock concert by Guns and Roses.

Remember I am talking about  almost fifty years ago: times change. Do I miss my old house, definitely no, but it was a good preparation for life.

Daily Prompt: Our House

Homely Pingbacks

  1. Daily Prompt: Our House- The impact of family to our psychological mind | Journeyman
  2. Streaks in the Darkness | Exploratorius
  3. Home: Tankas | 365 days of defiance
  4. To London For Love & The Daily Prompt | The Jittery Goat
  5. Daily Prompt: Our House | Under the Monkey Tree
  6. Cumbraes, 1962 | ALIEN AURA’S BlOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
  7. Launching Pad | I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
  8. Daily Prompt: Home | The Wandering Poet
  9. evergreen | yi-ching lin photography
  10. My family are huggers, and it’s always been an awesome part of life. | thoughtsofrkh
  11. Daily Prompt: House | seikaiha’s blah-blah-blah
  12. Daily Prompt: Our House | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
  13. Short Plat – A Short Story | Kilbo – Chris Kilbourn
  14. The House in Middelburg. | Hope* the happy hugger
  16. Home, Sweet Home | Home’s Cool!
  17. Daily Prompt: Our House « Mama Bear Musings
  18. The Gray House | A Sign Of Life
  19. Childhood Memories of Home | Unload and Unwind
  20. 272. My Childhood Home | Barely Right of Center
  21. Children Must Be Seen And Not Heard | Lisa’s Kansa Muse
  22. My Childhood Home | A mom’s blog
  23. Chained Childhood… | Haiku By Ku
  24. Minutely Infinite | Is home where the heart is?
  25. House of Haiku | Finale to an Entrance
  26. An Ode Full of Home | L5GN
  27. Formerly known as home | Le Drake Noir
  28. The rising of the Sap Nymph: an erotic poem | ALIEN AURA’S BlOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND
  29. The family home | Sue’s Trifles
  30. A Trip Down Memory Lane | Views Splash!
  31. DP Daily Prompt: Our House | Sabethville
  32. DP: OUR HOME | Active Army Wife
  33. Daily Prompt: Our House | Rolbos ©
  34. Daily Prompt reply…3/3/14 | TheWritingMommy
  35. The Halls of Childhood | meanderedwanderings
  36. View from the attic | Standing Ovation, Seated
  37. Charity Begins At Home | AstridOxford
  38. breakfast music | peacefulblessedstar
  39. Our Old House | Flowers and Breezes
  40. Thoughts of home | FUNNY…PECULIAR
  41. Childhood Memory… | Cats, Coffee, And Life At Random
  42. Homeless in your heart? | Emotional Fitness
  43. The Tracks–Home: Daily Prompt | Finicky Philly
  44. Moving Away | snapshotsofawanderingheart
  45. My first house: “mango tree” / Ma première maison: “manguiers” | Write for learning
  46. It Was Ours | The Book of Shayne
  47. “Tomorrow you’re going to be four!” | djgarcia94
  48. Our House: Slugs and Stairs (Daily Post) | Fun with Depression
  49. Burning Down the House in the Middle of the Street « psychologistmimi
  50. The House That Built Me | The Shotgun Girls
  51. Are There Five Interesting Facts About Me?
  52. I freaking love this house | The Bohemian Rock Star’s “Untitled Project”
  53. Our House in the Middle of the Street | thanks for letting me autograph your cat
  54. Daily Prompt: Our House | Cancer Isn’t Pink
  55. Early Memories of Home | The Silver Leaf Journal
  56. Quietness in the Houusse!!! | The Salmon Yatra
  57. Daily Prompt: Being Reminiscent! | All Things Cute and Beautiful
  58. Our House | viver para contar
  59. A Fresh Start | Menimèse Creare
  60. Daily Prompt: Home | Winging it
  61. The phone, the farmer, and the Batman. | Trucker Turning Write
  62. Our home, home on the Office Range | Institute for Hispanic Health Equity
  63. Life is Home | Live Life in Crescendo
  64. Our House | YAP + film
  65. Staying in Focus/Daily Prompt: Our House | Staying in Focus
  66. Home | A picture is worth 1000 words
  67. The Camino Plan | There’s No Place That’s Home
  68. Dear Immigration & Naturalization Services (INS), My “Permanent Address” Is Not My Home | Kosher Adobo
  69. House in three photos! | Scrapydodog
  70. Early Memory | Resident Alien — Being Dutch in America
  71. Humble Beginnings | SCATTERBRAIN
  72. Haiku: A House Is Not A Home | Mirth and Motivation
  73. Daily Prompt: Our House | I’m a runner and so can you
  74. Stand in the Place Where You Live | 365 Days of Thank You
  75. The Blog Farm | Haiku: A House Is Not A Home
  76. Daily Prompt: Home | That Montreal Girl
  77. My Room (Daily Prompt “Our House”) | Photo0pal Photography
  78. Home | When the Door Closes
  79. Home is Where the Heart Is | Wiley’s Wisdom
  80. Home | Leonas Lines–Poetry Plus
  81. Here’s why I can’t take you home… | I AGREE with you but…
  82. Daily Prompt: Our House | Basically Beyond Basic
  83. Daily Prompt: Our House | The Polka Dot Penguin
  84. Home | U Be Cute – Follow the child inside of you…
  85. Daily Prompt: Our House | My Other Blog
  86. Dreams of Home | One Fifty
  87. Home, Sweeter Home | Tony’s Texts

Daily Prompt: West End Girls

Every city and town contains people of different classes: rich, poor, and somewhere in between. What’s it like where you live? If it’s difficult for you to discern and describe the different types of classes in your locale, describe what it was like where you grew up — was it swimming pools and movie stars, industrial and working class, somewhere in between or something completely different?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us SOCIETY.

The End of Norah Street

Picture taken before the street was demolished.

Let us begin at the beginning, although my birth was not here, but in a small country town, due to the fact that the maternity hospitals were full of women giving birth to the babies produced by the returning troops from the second world war in London in 1946. My dad was one of those, but my arrival was too late to take an empty place in one of the local hospitals, so mum was sent to another town to await my arrival.

When I eventually arrived, I was taken to my new home. The houses were built in 1884, nothing special: a working class area of London. The only swimming pool we had was the garden drain that my grandfather would block to allow his duck to have a swim. We had a small garden, but there were chickens, a duck, a dog and a cat, and even my mum’s family, one son, three daughters and her parents, all in three rooms. All the livestock had disappeared by the time I arrived, including my mum’s brother and sisters and I was squeezed into a cot in the corner of my parents bedroom. We lived in the top three rooms, my grandad in the bottom three rooms. The cot became a bed and at the age of 4 I eventually had my own room. The only film stars we saw were those at the cinema, even the TV only arrived when I was about 10 years old.

We had a few gangsters that became famous for their crimes, even a few shootings in the area, but nothing dangerous. If you stuck your nose out too far, it might be chopped off (figuratively speaking), and the local language was cockney, a London dialect, spiced with a few colourful adjectives that I never actually said as mum threatened me to wash out my mouth with a bar of soap if I did. I did not like the taste of soap.

So now let us leave this scene of the concrete jungle behind us. One day I decided to move on in the world. I had been working in the City of London and decided to see what other cities were in the world. I had also caught the longing to speak other languages as well as English and cockney.

I arrived in Switzerland, in another concrete jungle called Zürich, The houses were bigger, different and there was no war damage. I even found one street, the Bahnhofstrasse, that was filled with shops and banks.

I moved on to the Swiss countryside, met Mr. Swiss and eventually settled down in a place called Solothurn. After our offspring had grown and decided to do their own thing Mr. Swiss and I moved into a small village near Solothurn.

This is where the fun starts. You do not just move in Switzerland, it all has to be documented. You cannot have a population wandering all over the place, it all has to be registered. If you do not register within a certain time after moving, you might will have to pay a fine. So now we were living in a village where the population of cows, hedgehogs and field mice was more than that of the people. This was no problem, our cats chose us because of the field mice probably.

What is the social background of this village? According to how many wealthy people live in a town or village in Switzerland, the local council tax if affected. If you are surrounded by factories and people that have to work for their living, then the taxes are higher. If you live in a village where there are factory owners, doctors, lawyers and established millionaires, then your taxes are lower as these selected few are earning enough to cover the expenses. This is explained in a nutshell, but that seemed to be the way things worked in Switzerland to my working class, East of London outlook on the world.

We had moved into a village where one of the richer members of the local society lived and so he was financing the infrastructure of the village like roads, schools, drainage, etc. etc. This made our village quite a popular place to live, as the local council tax was at a low level, the local millionaire paying for most of it. The local millionaire was not so young and one day he passed on to the millionaire happy hunting grounds. In the meanwhile, other millionaires had moved into the village, so our local income tax level was maintained. Luxury apartments had been built for the retired millionaires and so everyone was happy.

We have now been living in this millionaire’s tax paradise for about fifteen years. Of course not everyone in the village is a millionaire. We have a few farmers, people that actually have to work for a living, and a few golden oldies, like Mr. Swiss and I. The village is split in two halves by the main road, the top half mostly having villas houses and luxury apartments and the bottom half where we live, with normal apartments and a few houses in between. It has become quite a popular place for the older generation, but gradually families are moving in with children. We have a tribe of crows populating the local trees and during the summer evenings a few bats flutter around, but up to now I have not seen any vampires.

Just across the road up on a hill is a castle, which now belongs to the local authorities. It is open for viewing and you can celebrate your wedding there, or any other celebration in the family – no problem. We also have a stable where you can take riding lessons. To complete the picture there is a local church, with the local cemetery where we eventually all arrive, millionaires, workers and golden oldies. There is no difference how much tax you paid, you just might have a nicer grave.

Further down the road

Daily Prompt: West End Girls

West End Pingbacks

  1. Well Said & Done! | Rima Hassan
  2. Recycle | Perspectives on life, universe and everything
  3. Daily Prompt: West End Girls-Why people get rich | Journeyman
  4. Society | Mara Eastern
  5. Big City Girl | Rose-tinted Rambles
  6. Begrenztes Denken auf dem Spielplatz | Zeitarbeiterin
  7. Roger, The Bush Pilot And The Daily Prompt | The Jittery Goat
  8. DP Daily Prompt: West End Girls | Sabethville
  9. Living In Ogden – It’s All About Community
  10. a stunning society… | ensuing light…
  11. The rainbows in my eyes divide us | 365 days of defiance
  12. society | yi-ching lin photography
  13. of good hosts | Anawnimiss
  14. Daily Prompt: West End Girls | The Wandering Poet
  15. Home Is Where Your Rump Rests | The Dragon Weyr
  16. Saudi Arabia Was Beautiful But I’m Happy It’s Not My Home, Anymore | Kosher Adobo
  17. Daily Prompt: West End Girls « Mama Bear Musings
  18. S. Thomas Summers: Writing with Some Ink and a Hammer | The High Society of Cows and Foxes
  19. Home (Daily Prompt) | Writing and Works
  20. Cricket matches and roosters | A mom’s blog
  21. Daily Prompt: Our House | One Starving Activist
  22. We Are All Immigrants | Lisa’s Kansa Muse
  23. Classes In Society | My Little Avalon
  24. Anywhere is a Place for Prayer | THE MARRIED MAN WHO LOVES HIS X
  25. Prompt’d To Post: West End Girls (Fairfield County, Connecticut) « The October Weekend
  26. Culture shock | A picture is worth 1000 words
  27. The beauty in hindsight | Unlocking The Inner Creative
  28. Love Don’t live THERE Anymore | peacefulblessedstar
  29. MANY CULTURES ONE COMMUNITY | Francine In Retirement
  30. The “Hood” back in the day… | I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
  31. West End Girls: Daily Post | Destino
  32. My home’s patio | Life is great
  33. A real hodge podge … | 365 And Counting
  34. Society | Among the Whispers
  35. Memories | Views Splash!
  36. Neighbors | Flowers and Breezes
  37. Society? Who Needs It. | 61 Musings
  38. Daily Prompt: Children’s Society | medicinalmeadows
  39. My Abrupt Descent Into the Cesspit of Humanity | Thinking Diagonally
  40. One drop in a limitless ocean | sayanything
  41. Daily Prompt: West End Girls | Basically Beyond Basic
  42. West End Girls: Middle East Boys? | Khana’s Web
  43. History outside my doorsteps | Mishe en Place
  44. Now That’s Classy!!! | The Shotgun Girls
  45. CATS! Daily Prompt | alienorajt
  46. ONE MORALITY | Emotional Fitness
  47. Maxed-out Cooperate Chihuahua bark | The Seminary of Praying Mantis
  48. Society | The Land Slide Photography
  49. Life Isn’t Fair | Deliberating Dave
  50. Blue Collar | The Zombies Ate My Brains
  51. It’s a class act. | I’m talking now.
  52. A city and a village. | The Word Trance
  53. TEACHING CHILDREN TO BE MORAL | Parents Are People Too
  54. One Crazy Mom » Where I Live
  55. Daily Prompt: West End Girls | The Politics of Starving | Gradual Thought
  56. Daily Prompt: West End Girl | beingfiofio
  57. Daily Prompt: Society | That Montreal Girl
  58. Day 48: Society Of One | The Sacred Architecture of Here and Now
  59. Daily Prompt:West End Girls | My Other Blog
  60. Looking back | 2 times pink
  61. After-skiing | Le Drake Noir
  62. West End Girls – West Texas | Yowza, Here We Go!
  63. Different types | Read all about it
  64. No future, no future for you | djgarcia94
  65. Daily Prompt: West End Girls and The Myth of the American Dream « the barren page
  66. If I Grew Up In Allentown. With a Fast Car.
  67. A Word from the Boss | meanderedwanderings
  68. One Force Many People…(WP Daily Prompt) | Daily Observations
  69. Suburbian Blues | Edward Hotspur
  70. DP: Society | As I See It
  71. Along Memory Lane | Wiley’s Wisdom
  72. DAILY PROMPT: I didn’t get fleas. | cockatooscreeching
  73. Actually, I don’t know what to name this post | 20/20 Hines Sight
  74. Queens Gets Her Moment | Laughing Through Life
  75. Know Your World |
  76. Reaching for the Stars
  77. West End Girls | The Nameless One
  78. I was born under a wandering star | Willow’s Corner
  79. Daily prompt: Something different | helen meikle’s scribblefest
  80. Smile and Happiness | Let me see

Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home

When you’re away from home, what person, thing, or place do you miss the most?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us HOME.

Corn field and Jura

Seeing the first chain of the Jura Mountains in our back yard is probably the symbol of being home again.

When I was younger, I would go away now and again, mostly holidays. We then lived in the town with the children, and the wide open spaces called us to see something completely different. It might be the Swiss mountains, perhaps a city visit somewhere in Europe, or a summer holiday by the sea in another country. We were not a travelling family, travels can be expensive, but within out limits we had fun and enjoyed doing and seeing something completely different.

Now approaching the twilight of our years, travel does not draw us away from home so much. Our children do their own thing, quite rightly, and we now like to take it easy. The views from our porch and home compensate fully for anything I might find in another place.

There is another aspect of home. Home is where you live, where you do what you want to do and the composition of your day means no stress.

What do I miss the most when away? I am sure my routine, although I can hear some saying routine is boring, no action, and the same old thing all the time. I do not care; I have now grown to appreciate the repetition of life. One of my pet hates going out for the day is that I cannot relax when I need relaxation. I might enjoy having lunch in a restaurant, but in which restaurant can you take five after eating. Where is there a place to relax? I cannot lay on the floor, or assemble two chairs and go into the horizontal position of bliss.

I have become very comfortable in my ways since no longer working. The best part of the day is the part where I can relax after lunch. Where I can retire to a comfortable place, perhaps a sofa, or even my bed, close my eyes and escape for an hour or so. The place where I can recharge my batteries and forget all that is around me.

There might be a disturbing influence of a feline that decides to join me in my midday sojourn, but as my felines seem to be in a permanent state of “take it easy” and “where shall we sleep now”, they seem to understand my need for relaxation and join me, especially Tabby. Now and again she earns a tummy tickle or under the chin tickle, but she leaves me to my thing.

This is where we arrive at the next part of home: a lady with her felines and they do not belong to me, I belong to them and so does their home. They always come home eventually, whether drawn away by the smell of a mouse, or an interesting event in a field, they know where home is.

Once a year I leave home to visit my father in London. I leave Mr. Swiss, three felines and my house and my now adopted country. Of course I miss my father, love to see him again and am very well looked after when in London. I stay at my friend’s house, school friend that I have known so many years: almost a second home, but not quite. When I board the plane to return to Switzerland, arrive in Zürich and take the train for Solothurn, I am approaching home. People in the train speak a language I have now adopted as my own home language, I see scenes floating past the train windows that are my places, I recognise every little village, small town and each one of the 4-5 stops the train makes on the way. I am approaching home and meeting my favourite chauffeur at the station completes my picture.

I suppose I have become a sentimental old lady, comfortable in my ways.

If I were in a country where home no longer exists, home being a road or a path to travel until finding security again, then this blog would be a joke. A news report comes to my mind that I saw on the TV yesterday evening. It showed a Syrian family that at last could escape from their war-torn country and were now in Switzerland living with their relations that had settled here many years ago. They told of their problems in Syria and the wife of the family said it was the first time for a long while that when they awoke in the morning they felt safe and knew they would not have to be worried about surviving the day with the children. We have an easy choice in deciding where Home Sweet Home is in comparison with others.

Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home

Homely Pingbacks

  1. Clutches | The Magic Black Book
  2. Dogs Feel At Home | The Ambitious Drifter
  3. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Awl and Scribe
  4. I don’t wanna miss a thing (but I do) | Neva Samaki
  5. Where My Heart Is | thelifeofagirlsite
  6. Where the Heart Lies | tinypurpleme
  8. Gentle Hills and Fields | Reinvention of Mama
  9. Daily Prompt: Home « Vicariously Poetic
  10. The Sick Story | Mind of a Mouse
  11. It’s almost, but not quite… | thoughtsofrkh
  12. Daily Prompt: Home | VNA Images
  13. Yoga Class | I’m just Super Saiyan
  14. Home is where I put my hat… | Kate Murray
  15. Confessions from the Cracked Pot (Part 3) | JC Bride ~
  16. Cornish Lavender: fiction | alienorajt
  17. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Whimsical Eclecticist
  18. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Steve Says….
  19. Under the Moon at Home | Misifusa’s Blog
  20. Home Sweet Home | mostlytrueramblings
  21. Dublin, Ireland | Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis and Me
  22. Home is where heart is | sylphontheloose
  23. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Myas – A Tragic Lady But No TB
  24. Food sweet Food | Life Confusions
  25. Why Home Sweet Home Is The Best Place To Be! | The Political and Social Chaos Blog
  26. Saying Goodbye Is Like Drowning (short fiction) | The Jittery Goat
  27. Home – Post a Day Photo Challenge | Tidbits n Treasures
  28. When Birds Come To Roost ‘Ere | Spirit Lights The Way
  29. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Wordz on a Page
  30. Home Is Where The Jobs Are | mutatiomagistra
  31. Missing Home | Flowers and Breezes
  32. World War One, Coincidences and Family Birthdays | DCMontreal: Blowing the Whistle on Society
  33. Daily Prompt; Home Sweet Home | terry1954
  34. Home Sweet Home | SimplySage
  35. What’s to miss when I’m gone? | Rob’s Surf Report
  36. Home Sick: flash fiction | Motherhood and Beyond
  37. Home Sweet Home- Daily Prompt | The Rider
  38. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
  39. Please get off my bed | The Otter in my Jotter
  40. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home 2 « Every day adventures in Asia (mostly)
  41. Daily Prompt: Away Sweet Away | My Atheist Blog
  42. Donna’s home tour of the flat | We Live In A Flat
  43. What is home? | Tales of a slightly stressed Mother!
  44. This place I call home | Madhura’s Musings
  45. Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Sand | Under the Monkey Tree
  46. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | James’s Journal
  47. Home Sweet Home ♥ | Perhaps yes, perhaps no. Exactly? I don’t know.
  48. Not All Who Wander Are Lost . . . | meanderedwanderings
  49. Psst…I Need Your Help? | Cheri Speak
  50. Home Sweet Home | The Nameless One
  51. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Chicomallorca’s Blog
  52. The Conundrum | What’s In The Pot : Farewell
  53. Where Does The Red Brick Road Go? | Just Visiting This Planet
  54. Where the Heart Is | Real Life Co.
  55. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Moments Thru Lens
  56. Home Sweet Home | jane1davis
  57. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | My Heaven | Silver Wonderland
  58. Home Sweet Home | My thoughts on a page.
  59. The Hills are Alive… | A mom’s blog
  60. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Vagabond
  61. YOU MISS YOUR LIFE | crookedeyebrows
  62. Family | Life is great
  63. People prints | lemon lime follies
  64. The Joy Of Going Home | ~xoxo, msL
  65. Beneath the Coconut Trees | Barefoot on Rainy Days
  66. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home is where these misfits are | emilykkeyes
  67. Home sweet heart | Le Drake Noir
  68. Daily Prompt: How Do I Miss Thee? Let Me Count the Ways | One Starving Activist
  69. Not sure where “home” is now | djgarcia94
  70. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | DeafGuy Blog
  71. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | A Hedonistic Wander
  72. Homemade Happiness | Bright Tuesday
  73. Home Sweet Home | ashwitaashok
  74. Home is where the stomach is! | luvsiesous
  75. A quiet day at home | The Silver Leaf Journal
  76. Home is where the heart is | breezes at dawn
  77. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | MissEmilyMarie23
  78. Home Sweet Hope | Mary Angelini Photography
  79. Act 6, Scene 2: Cosmos | Romance Without Words
  80. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Undecided Answer
  81. Daily Prompt 10.19.13 | The Wife Life
  82. Where is Home?.. | Sunshine Intentions
  83. Sanctuary: I love my home | Chasing Rabbit Holes
  84. What I Miss Most | My Year of New Beginnings
  85. Home Sweet Home | Life as a country bumpkin…not a city girl
  86. Poem: Home Sweet Home Is Choice | Wise Counsel
  87. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Basically Beyond Basic
  88. No Place Like Home | Words from the heart
  89. Daily Post: Home Sweet Home | Running After Ale
  90. Home is where my heart is… | i Ord och Bild
  91. There’s No Place Like… – Compass & Quill
  92. Where ever you go…..(wp daily prompt) | Daily Observations
  93. Daily Prompt: October 19, 2013 – Home Sweet Home | Jottings and Writings
  94. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | College Girl Dai
  95. House of Cards Eps 1-2 | katzinthecradle
  96. Happy Fall Break! « kodi.
  97. The Fragrance of Home | beebeesworld
  98. Wish You Were Here | CurTales
  99. Home : Daily Post | Destino
  100. Home: Detroit | Mac’s Blog
  101. Homemade: Tipping back a glass of ice cold water | aaroneharris
  102. Home? Where’s that? | 6 of One…
  103. Daily Prompt: Home Sweet Home | Processing the life
  104. 55. Baseball, Gardening and Art | Spy Garden
  105. The little people | Legends of Lorata
  106. Family Dinners | Gabi’s stuff
  107. The Lurker’s List | Carefree Under the Sea
  108. WP Daily Prompt for October 19, 2013: Home Sweet Home | CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS
  109. That place called home. | Sun, Sand, Stars and Dreams

Daily Prompt: Dream Home

You win a contest to build your dream home. Draft the plans.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us DREAMS.

transparent castle in the air

A castle in the air – Castle Waldegg, Feldbrunnen, Switzerland

Not too bad, just too many windows and rooms, just a two minute walk from where I live.

When we bought our place it was still in the raw condition so we could say how we wanted the finished product. The two window fronts were ok, nice friendly-to-clean windows. We chose stone tiles on the floors and parquet, not being a friend of fitted carpet. They were the basics. The remainder: the atmosphere and ambiance, you do that yourself. There are no dream home plans for a happy family.

And then the felines arrived. We decided that felines belong in the living room mainly and their food place is in the kitchen. We thought wrong.

I called my chief feline Nera “out of the bedroom, it is reserved for humans”.

“Mrs. Human, I see no human in this room at the moment, just a nice big soft comfortable bed with plenty of room for I, me and myself, and even my litter sister Tabby. Tabby, look you can take a sleep here.”

“Ideal, Nera, move over. I have a better idea, just a moment” and Tabby disappeared under the bed cover.

“No Tabby, this is human territory and bed covers are there to protect the sheets and duvet, not to make a comfortable nest for a feline.” This was really not my idea of an ideal home.

“Fluffy, stop sharpening your claws on the sheet, it is finest jersey weave, you are making holes in the sheet.”

“Mrs. Human, keep your fur skin on, it is ideal for a feline, I am just marking my territory.”

“No Fluffy, I do not want your scent on my bedding, for that reason I have a large cover over the bed to keep everything feline-hair-free.”

“Calm down Mrs. Human” said Nera “Fluffy is just making things more homely.”

It seems if you are adopted by felines, then the home planning does get altered. There are territorial rights to be observed. I remember when my youngest son paid us a visit for a few days.

“Mrs. Human, your overgrown kitten is sleeping in our room.”

“Nera, it is not your room, it is the spare room and he is only here for a few days.”  The result was that my son over grown kitten shared his room with the felines while he was here. They slept on top of the wardrobe and he slept in a bed below. Of course, he could not shut the bedroom door at night because the felines are nocturnal. They have quite an active phase during the night, visiting their cat tray, perhaps taking a walk outside in the garden and they must have free access to everything.

He was not very happy when they decided to share his bed, sleeping on the cover, but felines take over. You say they are our pets – forget it. We are their servants.

The bathroom – that is of course human territory, but only during the summer. We have floor heating, our winters are rather cold in Switzerland and the felines, especially Tabby, discovered that there is nothing better as a perfect bathroom, closed in on all sides, and a comfortable bath mat conserving the warmth from the floor.

“Tabby do you have to sleep in the bathroom. We have a problem when we want to use the toilet.”

“Yes, it is true Mrs. Human. I have to move every time – most inconvenient.”

You just cannot win with a feline.

Tabby in the bath

Daily Prompt: Dream Home

Daily Prompt: Free Association

Write down the first words that comes to mind when we say . . .

. . . home. = Switzerland

. . . soil. = Burial

. . . rain. = storm

Use those words in the title of your post.

A storm is brewing over the Jura

The Burial in a Storm in Switzerland

“So what are we going to do now?”

“Now that is a good question.” Jakob rubbed his forehead, as he always did when he had a problem. Seth just looked on, but was sure they would find a solution.

It was not funny being over two thousand metres with a storm brewing and a dead body to dispose of. At least the earth was soft, so they would have no problems digging a grave. Seth even shed a few tears.

“What are you crying about, her time had come. She was old and we knew it could happen any day, we just hurried it up a bit.”

“But she was part of our lives Jakob. Admittedly she was laming a bit and could not do the work any more, but you did not have to shoot her.”

“Seth, that was the only solution. Of course I did not want to shoot the old girl, but it was a crime of compassion. To put her out of her pain and misery.”

The two men were looking down at the corpse laying on the earth. No movement, no breath from the dead, just a stare from her hollow lifeless eyes. Seth had a feeling that they would spring to life again, but he knew the dismal truth. Dead as a doornail, so they said. The two men had been living on the alp together for many years with their friend. They had braced many problems together, but this was something new.

“I think we should now do something” said Jakob. “The body will soon start to stiffen and then it will be finished with a move to the grave.”

“Jakob I have an idea.”

It was not often that Seth had ideas. He was known as the village idiot and thanks to Seth he had been rescued from the brutal actions of the village boys and had worked many years on the alp, cutting grass for the animals and producing cheese from the goats and cows. He was a hard worker, although the departed had also been a good help to both of them.

“OK Seth, what is the good idea?” although Jakob was sure that it was not a good idea.

“Instead of just burying her, we could perhaps sort of preserve her for a while.”

“Preserve her? Is that one of your weak jokes?”

“No, Jakob. I do not make jokes about the dead. Quite simple really. We preserve the goats by eating the cheese I make,  preserve the cows by drinking their milk and so we could preserve her by making sausages from the remains. Or hang the meat up on the moutain side where the wind is eternally blowing. We have often eaten wind dried meat from the cows and that is very tasty. We have even dried the flesh of the chickens.”

“But I have never eaten meat from someone I knew Seth. It would be disrespectful.””

“No Jakob. Think of it like this. We would be preserving her and each bite would remind us how helpful she was when she was alive.”

Jakob though about it and decided it was not such a bad idea. It was approaching mid Winter. They had to eat from the reserves they had. They would be snowed in until Spring arrives and it would be a welcome change to their diet of cheese and milk. And so it was decided. Their faithfull donkey Hilda would be preserved and buried in the ice and then they would have meat enough until the Winter had passed. For once Seth had a good idea.

Daily Prompt: Free Association

The Wall

Pictures to words 1“What do you think, Hilda Bug? This is really the ideal place for a nice comfortable home for the Summer. My mum and dad always said if you can find one of those walls constructed with loose stones, it is the best you can have; shelter from the rain, fresh air circulation, but plenty of nooks and crannies for keeping the food supply.”

“You are right Fred, I am glad I met such a nice intelligent bug as you are. I had to organize the earth to make a comfortable nesting place for when the children arrive, but that was no problem. It is so nice to live in peace and quiet in our own home with no interference.”

And so the bug family was happy. As summer went on, other families found the wall was a solution to their home problems much to Mr. and Mrs. Bug’s dismay.

“Hilda we must really do something about that ant mob. Things cannot go on like this. There we were living alone with no bother from outside and Queen Ant had to move in with her tribe. At the beginning I could put up with a few ants. They are tidy creatures and clear the mess away that the others make, but now things are getting out of hand.”

“You are right Fred, the family gets bigger every day. They have now completely taken over the stones in the middle of the wall and with only one queen. I hate to think what would happen if another queen and her groupies moved in. I even found two ants in our food chamber yesterday. You will have to have a word with them.”

So Fred Bug made his way up the wall, as he was living on the ground floor, to talk with the ant colony.

“Excuse me ant, but I have a problem.”

“No time for solving problems” said the ant “I have to milk some aphids and gather food for our queen to keep her strength up.”

“Ant, I think your queen has enough strength. Since she moved in with the tribe she has been producing infinite amounts of children and we will hardly have any room for our children eventually.”

“Mr. Bug that is your problem. We ants are not here to look after the worries of a common bug, but we are here to reproduce, grow and make sure that everything is under control and well organised.”

“Ant, it will become your problem eventually when the ant family expands so much that we other bugs and insects will have to defend ourselves.”

“Well said bug” and Mrs. Snail arrived. “We may not be the most agile insect, but we like to take some shelter in a stone wall such as this, especially when it starts raining; makes all my sticky stuff come undone, the rain. But this wall is getting more crowded every day; can’t sleek anywhere without an ant blocking the way. I had two of them stick to my foot yesterday and that was a mess until I got rid of them. Ants do not belong in this wall, so find somewhere else to live.”

“Snail this is our wall, just ask any other ant you might meet and he will say the same.”

Mr. Bug was getting annoyed. “Of course he says the same, that’s the trouble with you ants. Many ants have one opinion; you just cannot think for yourselves. Mrs. Bug is expecting our eggs any day now, but you do not see over a thousand bugs waiting for them to arrive and feed them. At least our children are independent when they arrive.”

These remarks made no impression on the ant and he turned round and went back to the nest. The snail slithered off and Fred Bug went back to Hilda.

“Did you manage to get rid of them Fred?” she asked.

“No chance Hilda. I spoke to an ant but he wasn’t interested in our problems. Selfish people they are, mumbled something about milking aphids as if that was the most important thing in the world. “

“Well I have a surprise Fred, while you were dealing with the ant problem I laid my eggs. Looks like it will be a nice bunch for the first time. “

“That’s wonderful Hilda. Our children are so beautiful, much nicer than a baby ant, and they are so independent.”

So time went past in the crevices of the wall and the families grew. Then one day in Summer it started to rain. Not just a few drops but a deluge. Mr. and Mrs. Bug managed to take cover under a large stone in the wall. The ant family had now grown to such proportions that they hardly had any room and had started moving into other parts of the wall.

“Look Fred, some of the ants are getting washed out of the wall.”

“And about time too, now we can spread about a bit.”

“But leave some room for us as well” piped up a squeaky voice.

“Oh big deal” said Fred, “now we have a centipede family moving in as well. Just keep your legs to yourself. I remember the last time I had centipedes living next door, crawling all over the place. Couldn’t relax anywhere without standing on someone’s feet.”

“Typical bug” said the centipede. “At least we don’t stink.”

“I beg your pardon” said an irate Fred Bug. “We bugs do not stink, we have our own perfume that we tend to spread around sometimes and my Hilda is the best smelling bug you could meet.”

“I think we centipedes will move towards the top of the wall in that case, we don’t want smelly bugs trampling all over us” and the centipede family moved upwards.”

Suddenly Hilda turned a bit pale under her black coat.

“Look, Fred what’s coming. A mouse.”

“OK Hilda, now just keep quiet and go to the back of the wall. Hide between those two stones over there. Where are the children?”

“They are back on the leaves on that plant over there. I think they will be ok as the leaves are quite high. They are now independent enough to find their own way around.”

“Good Hilda, I will hide with you. Mice are so unpredictable. You never know when they want to improve their diet with a good looking bug like us.”

This time Fred and Hilda managed to hide themselves from the mice and so life continued in the stone wall. The ants decided to move into the ground and build themselves a hill. The centipedes were happy on the top floor and even the snail slimmed past now and again. She would just cling to the wall as she had her house with her and did not have to build one in between the stones.

Soon Winter came and one by one the insect families left their homes. Fred Bug made sure that his children were settled in for the Winter near the wall. He himself would not be around for the next year and him and Hilda would be in the eternal bug hunting grounds, but he told his children that there was nothing more suitable for a Summer home than a wall constructed with loose stones.