RDP Sunday: Ice Cream

Ice Cream 01.06 (2)

Are they having a sale? Is it a special offer for something at half price? People are queuing and there is no more room in the store, so the queue spills onto the street, even into the road. There are even seats supplied for those that cannot stand whilst waiting.

It is our one and only gelateria in town, the place where they sell a complete assortment of various ice cream flavours and it is good ice cream, so they say. Unfortunately I just watch the others eating the ice cream, enjoying the delights from the cones and savouring ever lick. Lacktose intolerance is not very pleasant. I think I enjoyed my last ice cream at least 15 years ago.

RDP Sunday: Ice Cream

RDP Sunday: Siesta

Restaurant Sternen closed Baselstrasse 25.05 (2)

This is the local pizza restaurant, or was. It closed during the lockdown for the coronavirus and it was a good pizza restaurant. It is not far from where we live and many are the evenings we enjoyed a pizza with friends or relations. They even had a cellar where the local jazz club would meet once a month, Mr. Swiss being one of the founder members. He celebrated his 60th birthday there with a colleague, also a jazzer, who was also 60.

They were the days, but now it is all gone. Driven into an eternal siesta by corona and never to open its doors again, We will miss it, as well as many others in our town.

Sternen Restaurant

In summer in the warmer days you could sit outside in the sidewalk café and enjoy the food.

RDP Sunday: Siesta

RDP Sunday: Journalist

aimg_1206

After a year’s absence the smell of baking could again be noticed in the Angloswiss kitchen.

“Is there a reason for this Mrs. Angloswiss.”

“Of course, and I am delighted to welcome Mr. Fruity Spice to my kitchen for this interview featuring the newest developments from my oven.

The apricots have again appeared. After a year they have returned, large and fruity as ever. It was a difficult choice picking the right sizes and ripeness, but I was successful. I carefully prepared the baking dish, lining it with baking paper and a layer of pastry, trimming the edges to fit the shape. And then it got rather dangerous, but I survived: cutting each apricot in to quarters and placing them on the pastry is not risk free.

The sweat was pouring from my forehead.  Would there be enough apricots? I breathed a sigh of relief when I realised they fitted exactly.”

“Did you have any support from your family Mrs. Angloswiss, whilst you were embarking on the completion of this task.”

“No Mr. Spice, I was left to my own devices, but luckily there were no unforeseen accidents, no blood was drawn and I did not slip on any spilt liquids on the floor. I knew it would be a risky endeavour but I held on to the very end.. After placing the apricots in the pastry I baked them in the oven with the pastry for 20 minutes.”

“And you were successful?”

“Oh yes, I had switched on the timer on my iPhone to ensure that I had a signal when I had completed the first baking procedure. Now came the tricky part. I had mixed the eggs and cream, flavoured with sugar and a spoonful of cornflower ensured the liquid would  become firm under the heat process afterwards in the oven. I carefully poured the liquid over the apricots, ensuring that it did not spill over the edge of the pastry and again placed it in the oven. Can you imagine how relieved I was when the tart was finally finished and I removed it from the oven?”

“Of course Mrs. Angloswiss and no ingredients were harmed in the process?”

“No, not at all, not one apricot begged for mercy or screamed during the process.”

“I left the Angloswiss household with a good feeling after sampling a piece of apricot flan, washed down with an Angloswiss coffee, hearing the words uttered by Mr. Swiss “where is my piece?” ”

And life returned to normality in the Angloswiss household. I will be visiting Mrs Angloswiss for further reports on how the situation will develop throughout the fruit season.”

RDP Sunday: Journalist

RDP Sunday: Overcome

img_1086

Meet Roschti, a neighbour’s cat. He has no problems with overcoming anything. He owns my neighbour who tends to his needs.  In the meantime I have discovered the my other neighbour also feeds him when he arrives in his garden with bits and pieces from dinner. I happened to meet the guy that Roschti owns a couple of days ago and told him that Roschti makes regular appearances at my place. He laughed and said he wondered where he disappeared to now and again.

I took this photo yesterday. Poor little Roschti was again hungry, and in a moment when I was not looking he walked through the open window and decided to see how the food tasted at our place. It seemed to meet his approval, with the result that I now make sure that the window door is closed when I leave the kitchen. He is actually eating Tabby’s special food for kidney problems which costs a little more, but at least Roschti will not be having any kidney problems. Felines overcome everything.

They just wait for a chance and then they pounce.

RDP Sunday: Overcome

RDP Sunday: Disagreeable

And a discussion

If you want to see a real live argument where everyone disagrees, then just watch a football game. This is a photo I took from the television, hence the not so good quality. It was the UEFA League Final in 2008 when Manchester beat Chelsea 6:5. I cannot remember the exact details, but probably Manchester won by penalty as the score is otherwise not so high. It seems that everyone was disagreeing here.

Being a referee at such a game cannot be fun.

RDP Sunday: Disagreeable

RDP Sunday: Stickler

Bus, Amthausplatz, Solothurn

In my pre golden oldie days, I was a working woman and my main profession was multi- tasker. I had to bring everything under one roof so to speak and so I would deal with the shopping in the morning before I would go to work: a stop at the store and get the daily provisions. As it was just after the store opened, there was always the usual crowd. We did not know each other and exchanged no words. We all had our daily tasks to complete.

I remember one lady in particular. She was a golden oldie, although quite active and would push her way to the front of the queue in the store., muttering “I have to be quick, I must catch the bus” and this every morning. I do not think anyone believed her, even the saleslady at the till would shake her head at the antics, after I had been pushed to one side. Why a golden oldie had such a regular appointment with a bus daily, I do not know. She was the personification of a stickler if ever there was one.

This must have been a least thirty years ago, so I assume that she no longer has to hurry to catch the bus, which probably never existed.

RDP Sunday: Stickler

RDP Sunday: Swiss

Swiss Money

Let’s begin with the money, although I took this photo a couple of years ago and some of the notes have been replaced in the meanwhile with newer versions. They have even added some plastic to the paper which is not so popular with our environment friendly inhabitants. The most important buildings in any town are the Swiss Banks. Each country has its exports, and ours often seems to be money. However, money is money and in Covid 19 days, we should stick to hygenic plastic cards.

The theme of this prompt actually dragged me out of my temporary retirement from blogging as something had cropped up in life in the meanwhile. Just to reassure you we are all healthy and no-one has caught the dreaded and we still love each other. Sometimes you have to sit back and reflect a little, when something unexpected happens

And now to being Swiss. I am 73 years old and I moved over to Switzerland on my 20th birthday which was just a coincidence that my train arrived at Basel on 6th December 1966. I arrived in Zürich and after 2 years moved to a place called Solothurn, where I have been since after meeting Mr. Swiss and becoming Swiss by marriage. They gave me a Swiss passport on my wedding day, which no longer happens. The freshly married now have to earn their Swiss nationality after being married for a certain amount of time.

So what does being Swiss mean to me? First of all I have to pay my income tax to the Swiss State, meaning I have to complete those complicated documents once a year. Actually we both hand in our combined tax forms, although after being here for 51 years I have now taken over the task from Mr. Swiss. Thank goodness he helps me with it.

Swiss chocolate, Swiss cheese and Swiss watches are all part of life in Switzerland. To be quite honest Swiss chocolate is too creamy and sweet for my taste, and I prefer dark chocolate. I even miss the British Cadbury brand from time to time.  I also prefer cheddar to Emmental cheese and Swiss watches are really Swiss. I think if a Swiss meets someone new, the first thing they look at is the watch that that the other is wearing, it shows the status in life. Since living my Smartphone life, I no longer bother with a real tick tock watch, but prefer digital. I don’t think we have ever possessed a cuckoo clock, and they are a feature of the Black Forest region in Germany, and are only Swiss for the tourists.

I love the alps, they are everywhere and if they are not near you still see them, they are too high to be ignored.

Alps 01.03 (4)

This is the selection we see from our back yard from left to right: Mönch, Eiger and Jungfrau, all in the Bernese Overland. We live in the Kanton/State of Solothurn,  bordering the Kanton of Bern and so these high mountains are in the Bernese Overland. And yes, I have been there and seen them close up, on my Summer holidays in places with names like Gstaad, Adelboden and  Grindelwald. If you are Swiss and spend your holidays in Switzerland, it is normal to rent a holiday chalet somewhere which we did every year with the kids. We are now golden oldies and prefer to spend the summer relaxing at home in the garden.  No. 1 son usually goes to Italy for his 2 week holiday and No 2 son travels around Europe with his wife and kids. Let’s face it, Switzerland is just for the tourists.

Living in Switzerland is not much different to anywhere else I suppose, but if you really want to enjoy life in a foreign country, then become one of them: learn the language, the way of life. Switzerland speaks four official languages, according to where you live. I live in the German speaking part, although is it German? No really, we speak our own dialects and there are many according to where you live. We speak Solothurn German, which is similar to Bernese German. Take a train and travel West for half an hour and you discover that 60% of the people are speaking German, the other 40% French. Go further West and it is all French. Go South and you need you Italian dictionary. Going East to the mountain area of Grisons, they are all speaking Romansch, with its 3-4 various dialects, but do not worry, they usually also speak German (although their own dialect  – you cannot have everything).

So that is enough, It might be a small country with its eight million inhabitants, but diversity is written with a capital “D”.

It has become my home after more than 50 years and I have absolutely no urge to return to Britain, And if I really must have something British, I can always order it online from The British Shop,

Swiss Bread

RDP Sunday: Swiss