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.
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.
RDP Monday: Flare
Skedaddle here, skedaddle there, skedaddle up and down
skedaddling on a river path or going into town
Time waits for no man, but you can form a line
So take it easy, there is no rush, you will arrive in time
Look ahead, neither right nor left, be careful not to fall
Keep your eye on the road ahead and do not run into a wall
You must rush, so hurry along, perhaps you have a date
Someone is waiting for you and you cannot be too late
Be careful crossing over the road, “no time I have to go”
And now you have all the time in the world, the accident was no show
As you take your last few breathes, and fly above the cloud
You realise that skedaddle was false, as now you are dressed in a shroud
RDP Monday: Skedaddle
I should have made a note to say there would be a shout
It is snowing fast and furious with danger of a whiteout
Otherwise my notes appear upon a cloud
I can see them in my iPad and iPhone also allowed
When you become a golden oldie, you tend to remember to forget
So I write it all in notes, to make sure that it will set
I have a note with the shopping list, which I make the day before
Combined with Mr. Swiss phone, I want to be very sure
What I forget he might remember, and what I have so does he
There are no excuses not to buy, the list he can also see
And then I have a book list to remember what to read
All connected to Amazon whose choices I often heed
If I park my car in a parking house with a numbered place
I also note the number quickly, so that I know my space
Yes, my iPhone notes are my memory, it tells my daily life
Lest I might forget it all, am just a simple housewife
In the younger days of youth and action, we used to write a note
But the handwriting has become quite shaky, illegible when wrote
Thank goodness for the digital, does not allow for mistakes
Although sometimes when typing, my hand might get the shakes.
RDP Monday: Note
Yes, we have marbles. They were a publicity gag from the local store. for every twenty Swiss francs that you spent you got a marble. It was all in the interest of encouraging the kids to buy in this store when they were no longer kids I suppose, having a lasting impression of how good this store was for the kids. I did not have any kids at the time, but still collected my marbles. waiting for the grandkids. One is now here, but has no interest in marbles up to now. He is more into tractors and other boy stuff.
It is not very often that I even bother with the marbles, so I noticed that it was time to apply a duster on the objects kept on the top of the television cupboard as I was removing the marbles for a photo.
My mum always used the phrase “he is off his marbles” when someone was not behaving as he should. Mum seemed to have a phrase for everything, but that was the cockney in her.
Even the local river has marbled designs now and again.
RDP Monday: Marble
Vital is my computer, it keeps me on my toes
And then I have my medicine to combat all my woes
Is that what life has come to, it could be quite a bore
But I have my wheelchair, which gives a little more
Shopping is necessary to buy the daily food
I always write a list, less I forget what I pursued
But when I look out and see the sun and trees
I feel so alive, and then I feel a breeze
To realise I am living and breathe the air outside
That is necessary, I love the countryside
Times will come and times will go, I will not live forever
Make the most of what you have, enjoy the time of leisure
RDP Monday: Vital
It was last year in February that the storm hit and we were carefully watching the local trees. One of them had been a little weak for sometime, and now the winds did the remainder of the work. We were worried that it might fall into our gardens, but it fell on the wall of the local bicycle shed and now the Swiss lumberjacks were called to clear the remains away.
I was naturally watching from my window with the camera ready and so the guy began to chop away at various trees which were in his eyes presenting a threat to our safety, although I was sure he went a little too far.
One of my favourite trees opposite our place, was the one with the magpie nest in the top branches. The nest had not been occupied for at least 5 years, but it was there in Summmer and Winter. According to the eyes of a lumberjack (OK a Swiss lumberjack) this tree had to go and now it is no longer there.
And so they chopped away to their heart’s content. Eventally the machine appeared that converts the wood into small chips. I thought we were now in the forests of a Canada.
Although I must say that the storm did leave traces everywhere in the neighbourhood, even in the local cemetery. Yes, nothing was spared.
RDP Monday: Lumber
I remember waiting for the year 1984 to happen and it did. I was then 38 years old and George Orwell’s book was published in 1949 so how could he know. Big Brother was an idea, but he is here, in the shape of computers and watching us all.
In the meanwhile I have moved onto 2018 and time has literally flown past. 1984 was long ago, but I remember as a youngster thinking of the year 2000. I would count the years and I realised that I would then be 54 years old, that was then old. And so the year 2000 came and went and I am still here in 2018, aged 72. In the meanwhile many I knew have moved on. My mum already in the 20th century and dad in 2016, yes he become a centenarian.
Tomorrow will be 2019 and so time goes on. What does the future hold for me, for mankind? All I know is that there are too many familiar names I see as I take a walk through the local cemetery.
RDP Monday: Segue