RDP Monday: Pulchritudinous


Of course that was the first word that came to my mind yesterday when I took this photo looking towards the top part of my village. The sky was pulchritudinous, the cornfield pulchritudinous and even the trees were the pulchritudinous icing on the pulchritudinous cake What more can I say? Perhaps multi pulchritudinous, even mega pulchritudinous. OK,  know I am overdoing it a little.

RDP Monday: Pulchritudious

RDP Monday: Sputter


As if the weather gods knew, just a I was about to write about a sputter (and I had no idea what to write), it began to sputter down from the sky, more than a sputter, a deluge of sputter. After a week of record temperatures I noticed on my way home from shopping that black clouds had began to gather up in the heights of the Jura mountains. I had been at home about half an hour and there was a sputter of rain drops.

The rain drops began to change into pieces of ice, and suddenly we had a complete hailstorm. They were not sputtering against the windows, but crashing and so I took a few photos, although now have quite a sputter of water in the room from the melting hailstones that entered when I had the window open. As the hailstones began to melt I had a small pond so had to get a mop.

And here is the final photo of my hailstones where they had collected in the corner of the window outside.


RDP Monday: Sputter

RDP Monday: Ephemeral

The meadow next to the garden

On the other side of my garden there is a small meadow and if you look further there is the next garden belonging to my neighbour. The meadow is full of wild flowers, many of which I know the name and others that I just guess. A daisy is not just a daisy. there are different types of daisy. Grass is not even grass, but has its own flowers which form the many seeds for the further existence of the meadow. The whole concept of this meadow is to let is grow and it needs no gardener to do the work. When our estate was built this part was sewn with the seeds of the wild, those that no-one really wants in the garden and so they have their own garden.

It begins to grow as soon as the last days of Winter are saying goodbye. First of all a few green shoots and a month later you discover that the green shoots are developing with their own way of life: no leaf is the same as that next to it and some are already taller than the others.

Wild Meadow

I just took a walk outside with my mobile camera and this is what greeted me. I would now probable need a machete to carve my way through to the neighbour next door. the grass has grown tall, most of the plants have flowered and now there seeds are left and that is the excellent idea. This meadow is protected until the end of June, to give time to the plants to spread their seeds for the next year’s display. When the men have done their work and everything has gone it is not the end. Even until October there is the beginning of the following meadow. And next year the short life of our local meadow continues.

Do you see the nicely coloured pink flowers at the edge of the meadow? I am not entirely innocent for that. I had some sweet pea in my hedge to brighten it up and the seeds were mine. It seems that over the years my sweet pea plants have joined our meadow and now we have them growing here and there from my original plants.

Some things are short lived, but they return. I love my little wild meadow.

RDP Monday: Ephemeral

RDP Monday: Breeze


Today there was a breeze
Curtain stripes swaying to the motion
A rhythmic back and forth
At least that was the notion
In Britain all windows opened
Mum said it was fresh air
But now I am in Switzerland
And they have a different care
Fresh air becomes a draft
You could catch a very bad cold
Running nose and coughing
So I have been told
Close up all the windows
A breeze becomes a threat
Is what the Swiss have told me
I do not believe them yet
Temperatures are high
Sweat pouring from my brow
Mum said it is fresh air
The British show us how

RDP Monday: Breeze

RDP Monday: Balm

Balmberg 16.03 (11)

In Switzerland we have everything
Even a village called Balm
It is halfway up a mountain
And today is very calm

Balm and Günsberg

There is a castle in the hang
Almost crumbled away
But now is under national protection
And so is here to stay

In the olden days there might be a fight
Today said it was a cave dwelling
I do not know who lived there
Had certainly no bricks for selling


The view from the top looked over the land
You could see as far as Bern
Invading armies had no chance
They were seen and had to turn

If you want to know more
I can give you a leading wink
Just click on the following words
It is a computer link
Balm Ruins

RDP Monday: Balm

RDP Monday: Sumptuous


I just arrived home from my Monday shopping: no big deal but I got what I needed including my bread. Actually I bought two breads. The photo is of a Tessin bread, which is typical for the Italian part of Switzerland. It is white bread. Some might be shaking their heads as it is not fully packed with the healthy whole meal flour, but I happen to like an unhealthy white bread now and again.

Baking Bread

They actually make the bread and bake it fresh in our store and you can see them at work from the supermarket. It is a daily product so you really would not buy anything old and stale.

This afternoon I saw the Tessin bread on the shelf and took one. Just as I was walking away one of the bakers arrived from the bakery and filled up the shelf with more Tessin bread, straight from the oven and still hot. What does Mrs. Angloswiss do? No she does not immediately replace the bread she had bought and takes a new one which is still piping hot. She deals with the remainder of her shopping. Half an hour later she returns to the shelf and replaces the bread she bought at the beginning of her shopping tour. She naturally replaces it with one of the fresher baked breads. I did not want any embarrassing looks from the other customers, or even the bakers.

i am loving this shopping on my own. I am becoming a real business woman. By the way the second bread I bought was a so-called “Landbrot” (country bread) and that was a dark bread and guess what, it was warm when I took it from the shelf, but that one is for tomorrow.

Oh what a sumptuous life I lead.

RDP Monday: Sumptuous