Advent Calendars seem to be everywhere at the moment. Even our local museum in town has decorated 24 windows to disclose a different scene daily until 24th December. It is an old custom here and why not. However, a calendar exists for 365 days a year and not only at Christmas. On my last visit to the chemists, the lady asked me if I would like one of their annual calendars and I gladly accepted. Since many years one of these calendars has been hanging on our kitchen wall showing a different photo for each month. There is also space to make notes. On the left is 2019 showing the last month of December, and on the right next years new calendar.
However a new calendar has entered my life, one that reminds me what is happening and when, the calendar on my smart phone. It even talks to me, with strange noises. Admittedly it took me some time to understand the logic behind the system, but now I have it in grips. No matter what the day, what the appointment, or what the person, I note it all and instruct this online calendar to send me the day’s reminder already at 7.00 in the morning. It shows on my telephone/iPad screen with the time and more details are available if I click on the remark, even on my Macbook. At last I have everything under control. I make a point of noting Mr. Swiss appointments as well, as I am his chauffeur and have to have it under control and now and again he confuses the dates.
As said it took me a while to find all the places to insert the details, but now I have arrived. Admittedly I do not have a full agenda of appointments daily, and it seems for December it is mainly the dentist that I must visit with Mr. Swiss and for me. Of course the Christmas holidays are automatically marked and even my birthday slipped in somewhere (6th December). Now there is no problem of forgetting anything. I am the online woman and when my iPhone and iPad talk to each other, what can go possibly go wrong.
RDP Sunday: Calendar
This is what you get in the stores today if you are looking for a hobby horse. They have “improved” on the design with all sorts of additions like real hooves and bridles and a nice false leather saddle. Gone are the old wooden horses, although not completely. You can still buy them at an exorbitant price as you would only find them in the special stores with handmade items and the real wood and handmade results are definitely more expensive than the plastic artificial machine made horses.
I was never into such toys as a kid and I must admit that my taste went more in the direction of metal objects such as guns and railway sets. In my childhood in the fifties plastic was not so wide spread. I do not even remember any of the kids in my street that actually had a hobby horse. We had dolls of course, although that was also not really my sort of thing. I found it strange treating a dead object as it if was alive and taking it to bed with me never entered my head. I do remember having a golliwog, but today I must almost excuse myself for mentioning this racial object, although mum and dad were never into child psychology and bought what they could afford. However I had a blue teddy bear. All these childhood memories of toys are long ago and none seemed to survive to the present day.
The only hobby horses I remember at home were the horses my dad would place a bet on, after studying the newspaper lists. My childhood holidays always seemed to be spent in a resort where they had a race course. I was lucky really, I saw the real hobby horses racing on the track against each other as a child, and got the complete atmosphere of the betting stands of the “bookies” and even collected the colourful tickets they issued when someone placed a bet. The disappointed customers would discard them after the race had been run and we kids would take them home afterwards as our trophies. Not that my dad was a betting addict, he just liked to have a little flutter now and again on a horse he fancied and I must add that he really understood the ways of the bet and often picked a winner.
Today I am lucky to live in the neighbourhood of some stables, so who needs a hobby horse when we have the real thing living just across the road.
RDP Sunday: Hobbyhorse
We all get knackered at some time or another
It might be a sister, brother or mother
Even the dog has to rest on the paws
Sleep is one of the most common laws
Today after dinner I was feeling so tired
After three hours of sleep my need had expired
The weather is dull and its raining outside
shall I go back to bed or shall I abide
If I were a dog, or even a cat
I would sink on the ground just sleeping like that
But it is time to be awake and go into actions
So let us persevere and maintain our reactions
RDP Sunday: Knackered
Different countries have different systems for their recycling disposal. We have neat little metal containers with a hole in the middle for the various glass bottles, and it is not just glass. It might be brown, clear or green and for each sort there is a different receptacle. There are also these metal containers for your own metal. This is the one in our village. We actually have two organised places, but I can drive here comfortably and No. 1 son does the necessary and disposes of our waste to be recycled. It looks very simple, but I was once in town when these objects were being emptied.
It looks like it must be done quite often as the they are not so big. And then I saw this.
I heard the noise of a large lorry, it motor churning away and then I saw what was hidden in the ground. The actual metal receiver is quite small at the top, but below in the depths there is an enormous container where the glass goes. It needs a lorry to carry it all away. The crane clicks into the top part and pulls. It lifts the top receiving part and the complete unit is pulled out of the ground. Who would have thought that this simple disposal unit comprises such an enormous receiving area. At least it is all glass that can be recycled and not plastic.
RDP Sunday: Comprise
There are days when you rise on the wrong foot
Nothing goes right, it all goes wrong
So I poke out my tongue and sharpen my horn
Get out of my way, my anger can be strong
I trample around and howl like a goat
Clear the path, do not disturb, I could bite or charge
My mood can be quite poisonous I am danger in person
There are no holds barred, I am now at large
I ignore your feelings, I really don’t care
Only I matter, I am so prestigious
And now I feel better after writing these words
So I calm down, who me egregious?
RDP Sunday: Egregious
Flaky is a sea where I am drifting
I slept after lunch and now a new begin
But my housework took over
A pile of bed linen was waiting for the iron
How can I allow myself to relax
The flakes of work are piling up
Even the clouds are flaking in upon me
Guilt is another flake on the pile
I am sitting at the computer writing
My conscience tells me to attend to housework
But all I want is a little “me” time
Perhaps an hour or so to do what I want
Perhaps the flakes of responsibility will crumble
Like the remains of the flaky pastry
Leaving crumbs on the kitchen floor
They can be sucked up by the vacuum cleaner
But not the responsibilities
RDP Sunday: Flaky
Where are my photos?
This morning I was lost
I know I uploaded them
My computer it was crossed
Deleted them in the camera
they were no longer there
They were now in my files
And I really don’t know where
When you have many thousands
the photos tend to drift
and if you are a golden oldie
your mind is not so swift
I think I just forgot them
Was doing other things
They were released to a hard drive
but then they grew some wings
I should really be more careful
My brain is wearing down
When your years advance
It really makes you frown
RDP Sunday: Forgetful