Watching others work

What does the picture have for a meaning you might be thinking. I was at work, sitting in the office thinking how nice it would be to have the afternoon free to enjoy the Summer weather. It is known in the office that I go blogging now and again, although most of my colleagues do not really read what I am writing as they are Swiss and they have to translate everything into German.

One of the girls suddenly said "look out the window, take a photo I am sure you can blog about that. What are those men doing?" I took my camera (it is always in my handbag) unpacked it and got ready for a photo. The window was open so I had a look. There was a large lorry parked on the side of the road with a crane. At first we though a machine was being delivered to our factory. Just the week before I had to export an old machine weighing five tons back to Germany to make room for a new one. As it was on the road we decided it could not be a new machine and then I saw the lift on the end of the crane.

"The lamps are being cleaned" I declared and soon we were 5 women probably waiting for the worker to take his shirt off (it was quite warm today) and pull out the bottle of coke thinking he might be thirsty. However, this was a serious Swiss worker who had the responsibility of making sure that the street lighting was clear enough for driving in the evening. There was no such actions, just a daily job of work. He probably not only cleaned the glass of the lamp, but had to remove the remains of last years insect life inside the lamp. During the evenings in the Summer moths are quite attracted to these lamps.

Eventually we women decided it was enough excitement for the day and went back to work in the office, still thinking how nice it would be to have the afternoon off. Just a little bit of excitement in the office for a change.

Mr. Swiss 2007

Saturday evening on the TV there was a spaghetti Western showing which hubby and I were watching. Not a serious film, although we found it funny the way they were trying to imitate Mexican accents. Eventually we went channel jogging and surprise, the Mr. Swiss contest was running on the Swiss TV. I remember the first contest in Switzerland, must be about 20 years ago. It was the first time that a Mr. anything was voted for in Switzerland. I also remember the same year when we had the Autumn fair in our local town and the radio invited the winner for an interview on a Sunday morning at the Fair. I don’t think I have been in town on a Sunday morning since, but it was worth it. He had lovely half long black hair and nice eyes.

I did not intend to watch the Mr. Swiss contest, so I said to hubby he could switch on as far as I am concerned. Unbelievingly he asked if I was sure. I did not really mind but somehow we stayed on the channel. From the original contestants there were still 11 in the competition.

They were showing a sequence where there were all dressed in an overall with braces to hold it up and naturally without a shirt, showing their manly chests – well almost manly. I asked hubby why not hairs on the chest, but he found that it was not “in” any more. I started comparing, but came to the conclusion that if they all had no heads they would all look the same.

Next sequence - each showed a short film of his private life. One was bringing breakfast to his girlfriend in bed (you don’t have a wife if you want to be Mr. Swiss). Another was a forest worker and showed himself at work complete with helmet and saw-like instruments in his hand pushing a few trees down. Then there was the banker (who works at my bank in town). He was shopping for clothes and we also had a look at his flat where he lived, which also seemed to be full of piles of clothing, all neatly arranged in an open cupboard. Then there was the semi professional which seemed to spend his time modelling underwear for men. He even had his own website – the walking PR man. As Switzerland shares 3 languages, we had the contestant from the French part – très romantique, and the young man from the Italian part who for my liking didn’t really know what he was supposed to do, except have a nice greasy hairstyle and show everyone how he looked after his grandmother. Eventually there was a “normal” type working in the computer design business, 10 years older than the rest (around 34 years old) and I found him to be very nice. Not bad looking but a good solid character – what more he had had no girlfriend for the last 6 months.

Then the voting by phone began and eventually the contestants were narrowed down to 4 and my favourite (the 34 year old) was amongst them. I then left the proceedings to go to my computer. In the meanwhile they had all been interviewed and the results were to be known, so I decided to return to the living room and continue watching. After an “exciting” further 10 minutes, No. 4 and 3 were voted out and there were only two left and my favourite was still there. Unbelievable as my taste is usually a bit out of the ordinary.

Eventually Mr. Swiss was chosen. I could not believe it. The one I decided was the man that I thought could be the choice of my life and man of my dreams (if I had been 40 years younger) had won. He was Mr. Schweiz 2007.

What an evening that was – and now back to something completely different.

One of these wonderful Swiss citizens won the contest - now who was it. If any ladies are reading this blog, I wonder who they would choose.

A visit to the Dentist

The house where my dentist has his surgery is one of the older houses in the market town where I live in Switzerland, situated in a back street of the town and does give an air of old and historic. I know the house very well as I have been through some of the most memorable moments of my life there.

Not being the youngest any more, my teeth have got old with me and now and again a repair job has to be done. I had quite a large repair job about six years ago, will not go into the details about what it cost, but I think I could have easily gone on a Mediterranean cruise with the money and still had some change left. You can have a medical insurance for dental treatment in Switzerland, but it is so expensive, that it is not worth the while. After my "big job" I decided to go to the dentist every year as advised, which I did for 2-3 years (or was it only 2).

A couple of weeks ago I was enjoying some chocolate and as it did not contain any nuts I was suddenly wondering what the gritty pieces were I had in my mouth. I then discovered the side of a tooth had made itself independent and had been crushed to small pieces by my other teeth. Some years ago I would have been put into a panic situation trying to get an emergency appointment to see my dentist. However, it seems that as you get older, you have more patience. As this "accident" happened on a Saturday (they always seem to happen on a Saturday) I waited patiently until Monday and called the dentist for an appointment. This was a week before Easter, and to be quite honest I would not have minded waiting until after the Easter holidays. I decided that my toothly injury was not a matter of life or death and I could wait. My dentist's assistant was of another opinion and told me she could fit me in already on Tuesday. After a discussion I managed to push the appointment onto Wednesday.

Wednesday morning I drove into town from work and arrived at the surgery on time, knowing that dentists never keep their appointments on time, but keep the victim waiting to make sure he can keep his nerves alive until he sits in the chair. I remembered the waiting room so well. Various certificates and examination results are plastered on the walls showing how good my dentist is (and he really is good, that I must say). Some leaflets about how to keep your teeth for ever and pictures of teeth which could not be kept due to decay etc. I decided to read the daily newspaper whilst waiting to keep my mind off the negative aspects of visiting the dentist.

Eventually my time came and I was escorted to "the chair" by the assitant. I had to remove my glasses (I wondered why, after all it was my teeth that were being treated) and then the dentist entered and shook my hand like an old friend. "I havn't seen you for a long time Mrs. ...." were his words. Not wanting to be unpolite I said "Is it really so long?". His answer was "It was four years ago" and waved my dental history before my eyes, complete with x-rays and all the trimmings. Not wanting to waste any further time he put his foot on the pedal and in 2 seconds I was laying flat on the dentists chair with a blazing light before my eyes.

Why I do not know, but before the dentist actually starts treating the faulty tooth he has to poke around everywhere else first of all. Eventually he settled on the place where the piece of tooth had broken off and said it was just a piece of enamel which had broken. I then heard the sound of a drill rotating and before I had a chance to ask what we could do he was deeply concentrated in knocking away some more enamel from the tooth. I was surprised that I had not received a pain killing injection and was hoping it was not one of those days that everything had gone wrong for the dentist and he was trying to calm himself down on my teeth. It seemed that it was really only a repair job and in 15 minutes he had built up the lost enamel and said he was finished. I was sitting in the chair rinsing the remains of the treatment away. I then looked towards my dentist to ask him whether it might be a good idea to see if anything else had to be done, after all it had been 4 years since we had seen each other. His answer was "definitely, but I havn't got the time today" and then he called his assistant to book me in for three quarters of a hour a week later for a teeth cleaning session.

By the way have you ever seen a dentist after he has finished his work. If you are lucky he will still have the contraption fixed to his head, something like a skeleted version of a miner's helmet. Steel bands with special magnified glasses and lights fixed to them so that he can find his was into the dental zones and knows exactly where to aim the drill. I would have loved to have taken a photo for this blog, but I do not think he would have understood.

The week later was today. I just hate teeth cleaning sessions and he didn't disappoint me. When he was finished I felt like a vampire that had just fed on his victim. It seems that my dentist has really got to like me - he wants to see me again next week as he discovered a hole in one of my teeth which I did not know I had. The next appointment will be in a week's time. I think that when he is finished the hole in my tooth will be repaired and I can exchange it for a hole in my finances.

My Garden - Part I

Tabby looking through the Raspberry/Blackberry stalks

The Sunny Side

The sunny side of the garden backs onto the kitchen and living room windows which are full length and more like glass doors, so it is handy going in and out. It's the sunny side because we have full sun from morning at 09.00 a.m. until at least 06.00 in the evening - during the Summer months even longer. It is not a house, but a ground floor flat or appartment or whatever you call it in your country. This is why we have two gardens - one at the back and one at the front. The flats on the higher floors have balconies. That was the introduction and now to the main part.

These photos show more or less the beginning of my garden season with the remainders from last year that survived the Winter. This year we had a very mild Winter - night temperatures were below freezing, but the sensitive plants were covered up and with more luck than common sense sometimes the unexpected happens and in March you notice the survivors. The chives are quite good survivors and my pot does have some nice oniony smelling stalks that will (I hope) increase as the year goes on. I always have a passion flower and usually buy one every year. I had a nice suprise this year when I noticed last week that it had started sprouting in all directions.

The pictures above show the seeds that I planted in March. As we have had some wonderful warm Spring weather during the last month the new plants are already showing themselves. I hope to be able to plant them in the garden at the beginning of May (and also hope we do not have any hail storms by then).

This shows part of the garden opposite the kitchen window. At the back towards the building I have a small herb garden. Nothing spectacular and at the moment the plants are still fresh from the earth. I was pleased to see that even my rosemary survived the Winter months and at the moment has even started to flower, something very rare in the cold Winter temperatures of Switzerland. There is also a bed of orignano, which was once a small bed and has tried to take over the garden every year. I had to replace the sage this year as it did not get through the Winter. The thyme is looking a bit sparse at the moment, but it can only get better. I have lemon thyme and normal. Otherwise the remains of Spring can be seen by the tulips and daffodils which are still flowering. When they are finished I usually remove them and put them in the lawn. At the very front of this patch the reeds have started poking through. By late Summer they are about 3 meters high. The hedge at the side is just a plain old privet that I trained to grow high and make a good boundary to the garden.

These photos show the front edge of the garden. The bare long patch of earth is actually filled with seeds of cosmea and garden lupins. I need higher plants in this part as I do not see them otherwise when the pampas grass starts climbing high. In front of these bare patch you can see the daffodils that I have planted over the last 10 years that we have been living here. To the left of the daffodils I have the raspberries and blackberries - a josta berry has joined them this year - a present from a gardening colleague of mine. On the furthest edge of this patch I have planted buddleia (butterfly bushes) in dark mauve, pink, violet and light blue. I like to see the butterflies in my garden through the Summer months and they make a thankful show of colour.

This is now on the lefthand side of the garden opposite to the living room windows. The seed trays have been planted and everything going well the plants will be big enough to put into the garden. On one side this part is bordered by the berry plants and on the other by our privet which has once again been trained to grow high. Just behind the seed trays I have a large box planted with a clematis which is at the moment flowering, and have trained a wandering rose from the garden to onto the trellis work in the back ground.

I am quite proud of my apple tree in the lefthand corner (my cat Nera's favourite resting place). It was the first plant I put into the garden before it started. We have quite a show of apples in the Autumn. I now have a second apple tree growin which I planted myself from seed 3 years ago. It is now about a meter high and I hope one day we might have some apples.

I have some large white daisies growing on this part which I planted from seed and which come up every year. there are also about 5 hibiscus bushes which I planted last year from the seedlings I got from my hibiscus bush in the other garden. I don't know whether they will flower, but can always hope. I have reserved some of this part of the garden for my Zucchini and cucumbers later one. I used to have tomatoes, but it is really too much work. I dô not have a greenhouse and tomatoes are not supposed to get rain on them. I was very lucky the first year but afterwards the harvest decreased year for year. Eventually I started growing them in pots, but that got too much work and now I have given up. My neighbour always has a lovely show and gives me the surplus. I also have a hollyhock somewhere which grows nicely every year.

Just a few words to my "lawn" growing in between. I am not a lawn person. I don't try to be one and am very happy to see the daisies growing in between the grass stalks. Now and again the clover shows its face and over the last couple of years have had an invasion of shamrock. No I am not Irish. I have even now planted cat grass in one corner to keep my pets happy. In one part of this garden there is some catnip which seems to keep all the cats happy living around us (about 12).

Not wanting to get on peoples nerves with this part of the garden (there is more to come) I will now come to a close. Enjoy the photos. I have been typing this blog sitting on the porch listening to the birds singing and watching the grass grow.

Nera with the daffodils

Easter Monday

This is the last day of the Easter holiday. Actually for me the best day of them all. Meals have been cooked, shopping has been done, invitations have been fulfilled and it is just a day to relax and more or less do nothing. In Switzerland the shops are completely closed over Easter on Good Friday, Easter Sunday and Monday so no-one can or has to go shopping.

When the kids were younger we seem to have spent the complete Easter Saturday afternoon boiling eggs in a large saucepan (at least 30 eggs as then all 4 children were at home). We bought various types of wood containing natural colouring elements and the eggs took on the colour of the wood, brown, red, violet or yellow according to the type being used. In delicate work we collected various plants from the garden (mainly clover) and tied them to the eggs with cotton. After they had been boiled the eggs had the imprint of the plants. Of course, this was psychologically very benefial to the children - after all mummy and daddy were being perfect examples of parentage. I usually spent at least an hour afterwards scraping the dye off the table top and pans not to mention scrubbing 4 pairs of childrens hands after this Easter tradition had been carried out. The funny thing is we must have enjoyed it as hubby and I still colour the Easter eggs today, but in a simpler way and not so many. We buy tubes containing various colours which we put in a solution of water and vinegar. Boil the eggs and then submerge them in special plastic cups in the dye mixture for about 5 minutes. The result is to be seen above.

Another tradition was hiding the Easter nests. If you had a garden this was quite easy. You hid chocolate eggs, chocolate bunnies, real eggs (coloured of course) and other such Easter sweets all around the garden. The children searched for them on Easter Sunday morning and what they found was theirs. What they didn't find was probably Christmas and New Year combined for the worm population of the garden. At this time we didn't have a garden, so not wanting to disappoint the children, the Easter treats were hidden in the home. Such places as the oven, cupboards, under beds or cushions were used. Over the years the kids knew where to look, but they had their fun, It was just a bit risky when the chocolate egg hidden under a cushion on the settee wasn't found until someone sat on it. The basic idea was that the Easter bunny had brought the presents (something like the Christmas Santa but with two big ears and a basket on his back containing the eggs).

Today is Easter Monday, my last day before going back to work tomorrow so I am enjoying my last day of freedom. What did we have for lunch today? No problem - a ready cooked ham which just had to be warmed in the plastic bag, cooked red cabbage and potatoes - ready to serve in 30 minutes with the help of the pressure cooker and the microwave.

The Easter Lamb

Today was Easter Sunday and we had a family get together for lunch, me, husband and both sons. In this case I decided that a leg of lamb (known as “lammgigot” here in Switzerland) would be appropriate. I quite like lamb myself, although generally in Switzerland it is eaten more as a “speciality” once or twice a year. Switzerland is not a country for breeding sheep and the Spring lambs seen in Switzerland are few and far between and raised more as a speciality than as custom. The Swiss are not really a sheep-eating nation.

I grew up in London with lamb once or twice a week (mutton was looked down upon by my mum – lamb was bought and eaten). At home we now and again had lambs hearts, lambs liver and lamb chops. A leg of lamb was often served for Sunday roast. It did not really bother me as a child. Although the British Isles is known for sheep farming, quite a lot of the lamb eaten comes from New Zealand.

New Zealand has vast herds of sheep and probably the main meat produce of the country. The lambs are raised, killed, the meat frozen and shipped all over the world. Our local supermarket also has frozen New Zealand lamb and very good quality. I am not a vegetarian, and probably because of the anonymous handling of New Zealand lamb I don’t really have a bad conscience about buying and cooking it.

This year was somewhat different. I have got to appreciate animals over the years and when large quantities are bred and used for food I don’t really have a problem. When I went to the local supermarket last week to buy a frozen leg of New Zealand lamb for Easter I found they had none. I asked at the meat section whether they would be getting some and was told they had some wonderful Swiss lamb and all I have to do is to say if I want the leg with or without bone. As I had the family to dinner and they were looking forward to the traditional leg of lamb (roast with rosemary and garlic à la mum) I didn’t want to disappoint them. I took my 2 Kilogram lamb’s leg home (with bone) and told myself that it was just meat really.

I can have visions of thousands of New Zealand lambs on pastures being prepared to export to the world, and living their short lives perhaps 6-8 months ago which due to the anonymity didn’t really bother me. My Swiss leg of lamb gave me visions of a sweet little lamb living its life somewhere on the fields of a Swiss farm 2 or 3 weeks ago until it was decided that Mrs. and Mrs. Swiss would have their once or twice a year pleasure and serve freshly roasted Swiss lamb for Easter Sunday and the life of this lamb would be shortened.

Basically whether the lamb is Swiss or a New Zealander it shouldn’t make a difference – tomorrow we will have a ham for dinner.

The Nightmare before Easter - Easter Saturday

Similing Faces in front of the entrance to the Supermarket

I would just like to mention that this article is based on the truth, the whole truth. All actions really took place - nothing has been invented.

Easter Saturday – As soon as Good Friday is through, there is a break to go hunting for more food to cover Easter Sunday and Monday. It seems that on Easter Saturday everyone is worried that the famine will break out over the remaining two days of the Easter holidays. Although I had already filled the cupboards and fridge with food to get me through the holiday time, there were still the meals on Saturday and Monday to cover. I had decided to invite my son for Sunday dinner and had already organised the Spring lamb with all the trimmings.

When we drove to the supermarket this morning we met with the first shock. Where to park the car – was there a space amongst the 300 parking lots for our car? Hubby let me out the car and after I found a trolley (there were not many left) I entered the supermarket on my own (wondering what was really so super about it). I fought my way through the masses and eventually started filling up the trolley. I then remembered that I hadn’t seen hubby for at least 10 minutes so took out my mobile (what a nice invention for frustrated housewives) and called him. He answered quite promptly to say that he had found a parking spot and was now on his way to me after battling his way through getting a newspaper at the chiosk on his way.

I do of course understand that Easter is one of the family celebrations during the year. Relatives (and even good friends) visit each other as a tradition and usually stay over the Easter holidays. This, of course, means that as Easter Saturday forms part of these get-togethers, the shopping trip is also made together. So we have instead of the usual housewife with hubby and perhaps the children (of course, how could we leave them at home or with a neighbour). The grandparents (the older generation are not to be forgot at this festive time) and above all the relations and friends that may have come from far away places to celebrate together are also integrated in this Easter Saturday ritual . They all form part of Easter Saturday shopping. There is also the children’s training programme which is now organised by various supermarkets. Smaller miniature shopping trolleys are now supplied to enable our offspring to learn how to be a super professional housewife/houseman when they are older. This is especially a good idea when it is difficult to find one’s way through the over populated lanes of people in the supermarkets. It has often happened that one trips over such a mini vehicle being parked where it shouldn’t. One must have patience and understanding, after all the children are learning something for their adult years. I would also mention that there are also positive aspects of this shopping tour. Neighbours meet each other – usually somewhere between the vegetables and meat, making sure that the path is blocked whilst the women catch up on the newest developments and the men just sort of stand in the way with their hands in their pockets wondering why they are there.

This video was taken on Easter Saturday morning in our local supermarket by myself

We had made a list for this shopping trip, although I knew that this was not exactly very practical. On Easter Saturday you take what you find. First disappointment – no white asparagus, only green – asparagus crossed out of the list. Next disappointment – two deep freezers were empty as they had broken down. We needed cheese – it seemed that everyone needed cheese. As soon as I saw that a housewife with a devilish grin on her face moved out of the way I pushed my arm past her and grabbed a piece of Emmental cheese. I didn’t really need meat but my colleague who works in this section called me over to wish a happy Easter. I asked her if no-one ever went beserk with a gun, rifle or baseball bat under such circumstances. She said if they did, she would not get to hear of it as they usually send for the police.

Unfortunately we had to go down the escalator to the basement to get a bag of cat litter (only 10 Kg .- yuck). I then saw that washing powder was being sold as 2 for 1 – so naturally took 2 using my womanly intuition – just another 10 Kg more. Eventually it was time to pay, we were quite lucky, there were only about 10 people before us in the queue (not counting the children, relations, granparents etc.). The lady at the till wished me a happy Easter, and I made the remark that it could only get better – luckily she had a sense of humour and the gentleman behind me as well.

Our Hunting Trophies

Then we decided to get a chocolate Easter Egg – on Easter Saturday? – really just to make sure we had one. After loading our booty in the car we drove to the next supermarket where they had better quality chocolate. This supermarket was already emptying so finding a parking lot was quite easy and shopping was less stress, so I thought. After we had bought our Swiss chocolate Easter egg and was waiting at the till we noticed a young man laying down on the floor near the till. Apparently he had had fainted. We were relieved to see that 3 shop assistants were attending to him and as we drove away from the supermarket the ambulance with his horn screeching drove past us. At least things seemed to be under control. Eventually we arrived home and spent half an hour organising our purchases. Although we found enough room in the fridge, there was not room for more.

You would think that I had had enough, but we women are addicted to this sort of thing, once we start we cannot stop. In the afternoon I decided to take a walk to town to the bookshop and also to hunt for clothing. This was not to be compared with the morning as this was more pleasure than punishment. Needless to say I left hubby at home. It was a nice sunny afternoon, so not only did I have this idea, but a few thousand other housewives (naturally with their offspring and husbands). Eventually I arrived home tired, feet aching, and feeling like I had just been racing in a marathon.



Solothurn, Easter Saturday afternoon

This leaves the question whether it was all worth it. I am sure that next year it will be the same race for survival over the Easter holidays so may the best housewife win.

Happy Birthday Tabby and Nera - 5 years Old - 2nd April

How time flies. Almost five years ago I bought a cat carrying basket, two comfortable beds and food as we had decided to "adopt" two cats. They were born in a nearbye village and the day had come when I could fetch them as they had reached the age of 12 weeks and could be separated from their mother. I arrived at their home where they had been living with their mummy cat and two other sisters/brothers (not sure).

Nera looked exactly like her mother - black fur, but not as long as it is today and a short black tail. Tabby looked really like no-one in the family so we all assumed she must resemble her father who had never really been seen by anyone except their mother. Nera was picked up and put in the cage, but Tabby dived under the sofa and it took some time to get her out. Eventually after biting her previous owner in the hand, we managed to catch her, put them both in the carrying cage and I put them into the car. It was about a 10 minute drive to home and they naturally miaowed all the way to home.

My husband was waiting at home and when I arrived we opened the cage to see what they would do. They were quite nervous of course, being separated from their mother and familiar surroundings for the first time in their life. I remember them both going on their first journey in our home. They kept nicely to the wall and walked all around. Eventually they found themselves a nice cozy place behind the television cupboard. First problem - how do we get them out again. After shifting the cuboard forward we managed to free them (although there would have been enough room) and decided it would be best to block the sides to stop them hiding behind in case anything would happen to them.

Every time we came near them they sort of stepped sideways and avoided us. We were quite proud of them when they found their cat tray for the first time (although that is natural for every well educated cat). I remember the first night. They both hid together under the armchair and in the morning were still sleeping there together.

Their next shock seemed to be the vacuum cleaner. As soon as I plugged it in and switched it on they were off to the next best place to hide. They were again behind the television cabinet. So we moved it forward again and got them out. For the next few days we put them in a separate room when hoovering just to be sure. Gradually they seemed to get used to their new home and partners (being us - we learnt quite quickly that we were not cat owners, we were just allowed to live with them). They were almost inseparable when they were small. The photo shows how they were always together. Now and again they would have a playful fight, and chase invisible mice through the home. I remember as they were growing up I could even carry them around, one in each arm. Nera enjoyed that, but Tabby always looked in the opposite direction as if to ignore me.

Before they came we had made a few rules. We decided they would not be admitted to the bedroom or on the beds and at night they would be kept in their own room. After the first night this was all forgotton. They were given admittance to all rooms at nearly all times (except for the bedrooms at night). The first visit to the vet was made with no problem. Over the years this problem grew and today the vet is the most hated man alive according to our cats.

With time they were allowed out. At first they had a harness attached to a telescopic dog lead fixed to a pole in the garden which meant they could roam all over the garden, but not disappear. With time we gave them their freedom, but they nearly always came back - actually they do always come back, but sometimes their walks take a long while especially during the night.

I remember the first mice they caught espcially as they always brought them home to show us. We managed to teach them that this was not exactly a wonderful present for us, so now they just "play" with them in front of the window. They have had their childrens complaints. Nera has gone through blood poisoning, meningitus and once swallowed 20 cm of string - basically it is a wonder she is still alive, but thanks to our vet and him being quite near she managed to get over it all. She is actually the boss and likes to show it. Tabby has had quite a healthy life, although she did have conjunctivitus a couple of times (eye inflamations), but she is very independent and 200% cat. She likes to sleep 23 hours a day and spends the other hour looking for somewhere to sleep, although it has been known that when she goes for a walkabout she may only come back 7-8 hours later for food. She is also allergic to any strange cats that may wander into our garden (even if it lives next door) and although a small cat, has quite a bit of courage when she goes after a cat head and shoulders bigger than she is.

And now they are five years old. Looking back I can say, they moved in, took over the home and tell me and hubby what to do. If you want to sit on a chair and a cat is asleep there then you sit somewhere else. If you are eating fish or meat for dinner then you quickly have a cat nearbye waiting for something. If you eat icecream, then don't forget to give the cat some as well. At the moment I have just let Nera out for the evening and Tabby has just come home and is making her way to the top of the wardrobe where the cats have their "beds". They love to sleep in high places and keep their eyes on everything.

So just to repeat

Happy Birthday Nera and Tabby

Did you notice - I like cats

Neera Goes to Hollywood

A film extract from the Neverending Story showing Gmork the Werewolf gave me the idea for this story

It all began when Mrs. Human got a letter with an American stamp on it. She was not expecting anything from America and looking at the postmark saw it was stamped Hollywood, California, which really surprised her.
“What have you got there” asked Mr. Human “a letter from America”
“Yes, strange” she answered
“ Well you had better open it and see what’s in it”.

It was an invitation from a film studio. Mrs. Human was often on the computer and had some photos of her 3 cats on various web sites. The letter read as follows:

“Dear Mrs. Human

It has come to our attention that one of your cats, Nera, would be ideal for our next film production. We saw a film of her on a video web site and she would fit into the role perfectly.

We would cordially invite you to our studios in Hollywood with your cat Nera for filming sessions. We would cover all expenses for the flight and also for our special hotel which accommodates animals and their owners for the length of filming. In this case we would need at least 5 days. Food and care for Nera would be provided. Please mail us to let us know if you can come next week and we will confirm arrangements etc. etc.”

Mrs. Human was overjoyed – a chance to visit Hollywood with all expenses paid and her cat would become famous in the film world. Mr. and Mrs. Human had a long discussion making plans for the visit. Mr. Human would naturally remain at home to look after Nera’s sister Tabby and her adopted brother Fluffy.

The cats were naturally not stupid and heard about the arrangements to be made.

Nera: At last my natural talent has been recognised. Did you hear Tabby and Fluffy, I am going to Hollywood to make a film.
Tabby: Oh dear, Nera, I must tell Mrs. Human to make sure the door is made wider when you come back to make sure your head gets through it.
Fluffy: Nera can you bring me one of those diamond studded collars back – I saw a film once on the TV about pets in America and they are all wearing one.
Nera: Tabby I can’t help if your type is not wanted for the film being made. They need a beautiful black cat with long silky fur. Sorry, but shorthaired Tabbies are not in fashion this year. Fluffy I don’t know whether I will have time to do some shopping in Hollywood, after all I will be busy filming. I might even meet Garfield – he is such a talented cat – he might even fall for me.
Tabby: Other cats don’t fall for cats like us – remember our visit to the vet Nera.
Nera: Who cares, he might give me a paw print to bring home as a souvenir.
Fluffy: Can I have one too Nera?
Nera: Sorry Fluffy, but I don’t think Garfield will be interested in giving a curly cat a paw print. To compensate you may have one of mine when I get back.

The day of departure soon arrived. The film company had sent a wonderful comfortable carrying basket for Nera as the flight would be quite long for a cat and they wanted to make sure she would be comfortable. Nera was very excited as she had never been in a plane before. As a treat Mrs. Human gave her some fresh salmon when they boarded the plane. Nera did not realise that cat tranquilisers had been mixed with the salmon, but she slept soundly through the flight and only woke up to the noise of the engines of the plane when they were landing at the airport.

They were picked up at the airport by a chauffeur driven stretch limousine with a separate compartment for Nera with enough room for her to have a sniff around and stretch her legs, after all she had been couped up in a cage through the nine hour flight. She had a stretch and stood on her back legs and looked out of the car widow, but quickly sat down again. Being a country cat, she had never seen so many people and other cars at once. She was glad to arrive at the hotel where she had a special area in the hotel room for herself. It was very spacious and she could walk around and had all sorts of cat toys and climbing apparatus to keep her fit. Mrs. Human was in the same room so Nera did not feel alone or neglected. Nera even had a special attachment which lead to the window and could go out onto the balcony of the hotel to get some fresh air. She like being in high places where she could keep her eye on everything, but she was on the 20^th floor of the hotel and that was just a little bit too high.

After her first night in the hotel the next morning she was picked up with Mrs. Human by a limousine and they were taken to the film studios. Now the real work started. Nera was groomed and treated with all sorts of creams and oils for her fur. This routine was carried out for 3-4 days until the film had been made. Nera noticed that before any filming was done she was always shown a film of wild birds on a tree. This made Nera especially curious and everytime they filmed she was quite excited after seeing these birds which really made her look a bit aggressive. As a reward for the filming she was always given a fish or chicken dinner afterwards.

Mrs. Human was always nearby when filming sessions took place. Mrs. Human was also taken on a sightseeing trip of the film studios and naturally asked if it would be possible for Nera to come as well as she would like to see Garfield so much. Of course, this was arranged. It was just a little bit disappointing for Nera when she saw that Garfield was just a drawing and not a real life cat. However, to compensate Mrs. Human was given a video of the latest Garfield film and Nera and Mrs. Human could watch the film in the hotel room in the evening.

The five days were soon over. The filming was a success and Nera and Mrs. Human were taken to the airport where they boarded the plane for home.

Meanwhile Tabby and Fluffy were at home waiting for Nera to come back. Mr. Human looked after the cats well while Nera was away. Fluffy sort of missed Nera. Nera was such an intelligent cat and impressed Fluffy with her great knowledge. If Fluffy wanted to know something (the most tasty bird, how to catch a mouse etc. etc.) Nera always knew the answer. As Nera was Tabby’s litter sister, Tabby was looking forward to Nera’s return. It was as if something was missing in her life. The two cats were of course, both looking forward to Nera’s return to see the film she had made and to hear all the news about Hollywood.

Eventually Mrs. Human and Nera arrived home, both tired from the long journey. Nera jumped out of her carrying cage, went for a sniff in her home, found that everything was in its right place, curled up in her bed on top of the wardrobe and dropped off to sleep. Tabby and Fluffy were pleased to see her but realised there was no point in bothering Nera with questions until she had got over the jet lag so they waited until the next day.

The next morning Nera went for her morning walk as usual and Tabby and Fluffy were waiting for her when she got back.

Tabby: Nera, tell me all about it – did you see Garfield, how was Hollywood
Nera: Well you know Garfield is very important and was so surrounded by his manager and other people I just didn’t want to disturb him. But I must say those Hollywood stars are not really the way you see them in the films. The films are all makeup and the dangerous scenes are done by stunt cats (Nera thought it would be better not to tell Tabby and Fluffy that Garfield was just a drawing – she was still trying to overcome her own disappointment.)Fluffy: Does that mean you didn’t get his paw print?
Nera: Cats like Garfield really don’t have time for giving paw prints. However, his manager gave our human a copy of his latest film on video which we watched in the evening in the hotel room.
Tabby: But what about your film. When can we watch that? – tell us all about it. Are you famous, does everyone know you?
Nera: Tabby films are not made in a day. The film will only be complete in a couple of months and then it can be seen. Of course, I would be famous, but I didn’t really want a fan club to be made for me, I saw how the famous cats never have any peace and quiet. They are always being bombarded by their fans for paw prints and photos. You know how I like to avoid so much publicity.

Two months later Tabby and Fluffy still hadn’t seen Nera’s film.

Tabby: Nera, what about your famous film, you don’t say much about it. Isn’t it about time we saw how it turned out.
Fluffy: I want to see the film as well. Nera has it now been released?
Nera: Not yet, just be patient.

Two days later the cats heard how Mrs. Human told Mr. Human that Nera’s film was now in the cinema and she had received a copy for home. In the evening Mr. Human switched on the tv and to watch the film.

Tabby: Nera your film is about to start, if we get up on the table we can watch it as well.
Fluffy: make room for me, I want to see it too.
Nera: I am sure our humans will watch the film quite often, I would rather have a cat nap at the moment.
Tabby: Nera, now is the result of your first Hollywood film and you want to have a cat nap.
Fluffy: Come and look at the film with us Nera.
Nera: I want to have a sleep hiss, hiss
Tabby: Nera something somewhere is funny – now come and look at this film with us.
Nera: Do I really have to, after all I know what it is about.
Fluffy: How can you expect to become famous if you don’t even look at your own film?
Tabby: Yes, for a change Fluffy is right.

Now why was Nera so reluctant to watch her film. Here is a still from the film.
(Due to copyright reasons an actual film extract cannot be shown - actually it shows
Gmork from The Neverending Story which mostly was filmed in Germany and naturally not Hollywood)

Tabby: Well Nera, we always knew that you had talent
Fluffy: Nera - is that what they call a horror film
Nera: Hiss Hiss - No Fluffy it is not a horror film, it is a historical film and has a very deep meaning. The rôle I played needed a lot of concentration and only a gifted cat can play the part
Tabby: Yes, Nera of course (sniggering behind her paw). It really needs talent to show such examples of gifted acting. How many mice did they hide from you to get such a good result?
Nera: Now don't get sarcastic. It is just unbelievable what jealousy can do to cats when they realise that other cats are so talented like me.
Tabby: Fluffy, I think a cat nap would do us good now.
Fluffy: A good idea Tabby, I hope I don't have any catmares after that film.
Nera: Just wait until I make my next film
Tabby: But next time do a commercial for cat food - How can I tell the cat next door that my sister had the star role in a Hollywood film as a werewolf.

The Cat Mafia starring Vermeer, Pablo and Atticus

Vermeer and Pablo are Oriental cats and Atticus - well just a lovely little tabby cat. They live together on the South coast of England and have just as much feline fun as my own 3 cats. This story is based on the truth more or less as their "human" told me.

Vermeer: Atticus will you stop staring at that fish tank and come over here. I want to have a few words with you.
Atticus (thinking to himself): What do those Thailand mafia bosses want now? Looking at fish tanks is one of my favourite pastimes – you never know if one might jump out.
Pablo: Atticus did you hear what Vermeer said. If you want to be allowed to cuddle up in our nice new warm bed with us tonight you had better come over.
Atticus: Ok you two Oriental brothers I’m coming. Just because you know who your relations were, you don’t have to put it on. I am just as much at home here as you are.
Vermeer: Now let’s not get racial. Such names as Oriental brothers are not exactly polite. It just happens that our great grandfather was the chief of the Bangkok mafia cat gang and if he had been called such a name, your fur wouldn’t have been worth using for a rug after he had been done with you.
Atticus: Ok, put your ears back in their right place – I don’t really know who my dad was and my mum didn’t either. They sort of met on a cliff top near the sea and it was love at first and last sight, but I am sure he wouldn’t have let himself been bossed around by some sort of almond eyed cat with pointed ears.
Pablo: So that’s enough of the discussion, Atticus even if you are a bit cheeky now and again, you do have your good side and Vermeer has come up with a very good plan for enriching our feline diet. I mean we cats do have to stick together when it comes down to humans, even if not every cat can speak such fluent Siamese as me and Vermeer.
Vermeer: thank you Pablo, so now let’s get down to the actual plan that I have. Are you listening Atticus – stop looking at that fish tank.
Atticus: Ok, ok, I got the message – what do I have to do this time? It seems the brilliant plans of a gangster family cat always need the help of a tabby cat who doesn’t really know who his mum and dad were.
Vermeer: My first question is Do you like chicken breasts freshly cooked and cooled down?
Atticus: What a stupid question.
Pablo: I assume that in that case the answer from Atticus would be yes, Vermeer and I would support him.
Vermeer: exactly – that is just what I thought. Based on the experience of great grandfather Meow in Bangkok and the knowledge I gained from mother, if you do something properly there will be great rewards.
First of all we must be patient and wait for the day when our human prepares the chicken breasts. After they have been prepared they will be put into a plate to cool down. Now you come into the plan Atticus.
Atticus: what do I have to do?
Vermeer: nothing much – what you do most of the time – just sleep, but not properly. Go to your favourite place on top of the tumble drier. Then the human in question will be sure that you are up to no mischief.
Pablo. That is a good point. Atticus please pay attention.
Atticus: No problem, human always seems to breathe a sigh of relief when I am having a cat nap.
Vermeer: Good then that is the first part of the plan. Now Pablo, you now come into the plan. You will make yourself nice and comfortable on the lap of the human. The one that is always stroking you behind the ears.
Pablo: I am with you Vermeer – but what if I enjoy the stroking so much that I drift off to sleep. You know there are times when I really find that humans are quite useful.
Vermeer: you will not drift off to sleep. I have never seen you drift off to sleep when the scent of freshly prepared chicken breasts is around you.
Pablo: Now you have a point Vermeer.
Vermeer: When human is still and relaxed – we cats always notice such things – we go into action. Atticus
Atticus: Yes Vermeer
Vermeer: You will now descend from your place on the tumble drier, but without noise – do you understand – no knocking things over, very quietly.
Atticus: Of course, when do I make a noise – huh
Pablo: Well I do remember the time when you was smaller and decided you would get the tuna fish bowl from the table.
Atticus: And – what was the problem.
Pablo: You didn’t only take the bowl of fish, but the tablecloth as well and broke three plates – I had never seen the humans move so fast.
Vermeer: So boys, pay attention will you. Now when everything is quiet, Atticus and I will creep into the kitchen and grab a chicken breast.
Atticus: Why “a chicken breast” there will be more than one.
Vermeer: Because the delicate mouth of a pure Oriental cat is not able to stuff such a big breast in its mouth. You, Atticus will grab the breast of chicken.
Atticus: I knew it – the big oriental showoffs with the Mafia boss in the family, but I have to do the dirty work for them.
Pablo: Atticus – do you want a chicken breast or not?
Vermeer: exactly – ok Atticus
Atticus: ok boss (hiss, hiss)
Vermeer: To continue. At the moment when the chicken breast is removed there will be noise as we cats will not be able to remove the food in question without removing the lid to the plate and that will probably crash onto the floor. Pablo now you come into action. When the human hears the noise in the kitchen she will immediately think that Atticus is again up to something suspicious. She will jump up. Pablo you will extend your claws just enough to make a small scratch on the human – not too much but enough to hurt. Human will then be so preoccupied with her own pain that Atticus with the chicken breast in his mouth will run up the stairs on his short legs as fast as possible
Atticus: Just a minute who’s got short legs. Just because you Orientals walk on stilts – why don’t you do the running yourself?
Pablo: Atticus who has the chicken in his mouth????
Atticus: Ok – I will run up the stairs on my short legs. Happy?
Vermeer: Thank you Atticus. I will follow closely behind Atticus and Pablo will also be able to get away as human will still be painfully walking to the kitchen. Human’s last view of the chicken breast will be Atticus with it in his mouth heading for the spare bedroom.
Pablo: in that case we will all meet in the spare bedroom
Vermeer: Yes under the bed best of all and there we will share the chicken breast between us.
Atticus: I have to share it?
Vermeer: Do you want to curl up with me and Pablo this evening in our new comfortable warm bed. One paw washes the other as we cats say.

2 days later under the bed in the spare room.

Atticus: Now that was really a good plan Vermeer – it went off perfectly
Pablo: Of course, Atticus, we Oriental cats are very intelligent and our branch of the family combine intelligence with talents inherited from great grandfather Meow.
Vermeer: Well, after such a good meal, I think we should retire for a good nights sleep.
Atticus; you think it would be ok to go to bed now, is the coast clear?
Vermeer: Of course, humans are too preoccupied with disinfecting a cat scratch and clearing up the mess in the kitchen.
Pablo: and Atticus you have really earned your place with us in our new bed.
Atticus: Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Swiss Pop Music - Crocus

After having said a few words about old Swiss Rocker Polo Hofer, here is something that came a bit later, one of the first bands in Switzerland to export their music as far as America, to win Gold and Platin records and above all, the original members all more or less come from around the corner to where I lived, the town of Solothurn.

Krokus are the mother of all Swiss metal bands. Their most successful phase was in the 80’s when they won their gold and platin discs in America and Canada as well as in Switzerland. Their origins go back to the 70’s. In the small market town of Solothurn 5 young men launched in 1974 Krokus. (in English of course the flower: Crocus). The original formation consisted of Fernando von Arb (solo guitar), Chris von Rohr (singer, later bass guitar), Freddy Steady (drummer), Jürg Nägerli (bass guitar – later tone technician) and the lateTommy Kiefer (solo guitar). At this time Rock clubs were very sparse in Switzerland. Performance opportunities were also quite rare and the band decided to do something quite unusual. Krokus packed their bags and moved to Spain and the Mediterranean coast. They brought their aggressive sound (which it is was in the times gone by) to the bars, dives and tourst bunkers of the Costa Brava where they were welcome guests. The many gigs strengthened the band and added a professional note to their playing.

Back in the federal home territory of Switzerland they managed to land a record deal and released in 1978 “Painkiller”. The 1977 published “To You All”, was recorded with the band Montezuma with whom the Messrs. von Arb, Naegeli and Steady were playing at the time, before they dedicated themselves completely to Krokus. “Painkiller” sold itself quite well, but it was clear that a more experienced singer would do the band more than good – at this time Chris von Rohr was at the microphone, but later would change to bass guitarist. According to the motto “lets try the Maltese”, the Swiss found in Marc Storace the suitable voice with which he could reach unexpected heights and who also had a fair amount of blues in blood. This made the whole thing sound more smoky. With “Metal Rendevouz” they sold 150,000 units and brought triple platin into Switzerland.

As the degree of popularity of the band is now quite large, they quickly made use of the old material in the form of “Early Days” before they made the extremely good album “Hardware” with Jürg Nägerli as tone technician. “Winning Man”, “Celebration” and the hymn “Easy Rocker” are tracks which live are still popular. At some Gigs after the release in England, the band could test how Swiss metal sounded to English listeners. Apparently very well as “one of the best 20 Metal Acts” (Sounds) they were prepared for the jump over the channel and the Atlantic ocean. First US concerts as warm-up band for Blue Oyster Cult, Sammy Hagar and Molly Hatchet followed. 100,000 sold records are the result of the energy loaded shows in the States. After “Hardware” Tommy Kiefer was replaced by the young Mandy Meier, who had his baptism of fire on one of the England tours and the Krokus German concerts as support for April Wine, but for the next studio album recording had to make room for Mark Kohler (must mention that my husband played jazz with Mark Kohler’s older brother).

In the 1982 output “One Vice at a Time” ideas began to differ. The parallels at this time to the success of the Superstars AC/DC are more than evident. Although songs such as “Long Stick goes Boom” are well in front, the question about own creativity is often put. Nevertheless this album is the most successful in the history of the band. Songs such as the cover “American Woman” pave the way to the opening of the American market. The result: gold in the USA and Canada.

With “Headhunter” they accelerate even more and produce together with Judas Priest tone technician Tom Allom the most aggressive album up to now. Their status in USA and Canada stabilized itself with platin and gold. In Switzerland they had to make do with gold. In 1984 after a short guest appearance of Steve Pace as drummer, Jeff Kaven took over. With him Krokus also played “The Blitz”. After this release Chris von Rohr left the band because of disagreements with the band management. In the meanwhile they had arrive well into the 80’s and they celebrated internationally their best success with the fans in “Change of Address” and “Alive and Screaming” although the band were absolutely not satisfied with “Change of Address”.

In 1988 Chris von Rohr returned for “Heart Attack”, in the meanwhile Dani Crivelli being on the drums. The album did not sell so well and the descent was showing. A change had occurred with the original lineup. Fernando von Arb collected new musicians around himself and delivered with “Stampede” good work, but it is no longer a genuine Krokus. Swiss Flower Metal without warmed up material (“The Dirty Dozen” and “You ain’t seen Nothing Yet”) appeared in 1995 with “To Rock or Not To Be”. Chris von Rohr left the band forever and worked as producer and manager (for Gotthard) as well as a writing musician, his first book “Hunde wollt ihr ewig rocken?” (Dogs do you want to rock forever?) being a success in Switzerland. We have the book and it’s really good and very funny.

The next genuine output “Rock the Block” (only appearing in Switzerland) took 7 years to appear, during which time various members concentrated on their own projects. Marc Storace was performing with his own band, during which von Arb played guitar for the legendary Butthunter.

A film of the tour “Rock the Block” was made and the result appeard as live CD and DVD under the name “Fire and Gasoline”. After the release Fernando von Arb left the band. Mandy Meier replaced him. At the beginning of 2005 Krokus came together again and played in the United States after 17 years afterwards ontour in Russia. At the beginning of 2006 Kokus returned to the studio to work on a new record. In the meanwhile they were on a Germany tour with Axxis as support.

And that is Krokus more or less up to the present day. The musicians are often to be seen in our local town and my son often acts as “Roadie” for the various bands they play with, the last time being a week ago at a concert in Solothurn with Fernando von Arb on the guitar. Chris von Rohr is the most well-known today as he often appears on television. Generally speaking they are all very nice people, not spoilt and always have time for a talk if you happen to meet them in town. The various members have gone through a lot of ups and downs, but they still produce good music today.

Their official web site Krokus

This clip was one of the more recent

Swiss Pop Music - Polo Hofer

I thought I would write a few lines about Swiss pop music – yes, it actually does exist. The person I am writing about is really a Swiss institution, although today 60 years old he is still popular – although probably more amongst the over 40 year olds than the younger generation.

I have been living in Switzerland for the last 40 years and have brought up 4 teenagers in this time, so you get to know what is happening in the pop music world, even in Switzerland. Polo Hofer was there at the beginning. Today he is almost 60 years old and his music career is almost as long. He was born in Interlaken where he went to school, did his apprenticeship as a typesetter and eventually formed his own band. Amongst his favourites in the music world were Ray Charles as well as Sonny Terry and John Lee Hooker to name a few.

His first band was Rumpelstiltz with whom he sung the hit “Kiosk”. Afterwards he formed the band Schmetterding which was afterwards renamed Polo Hofer and the Schmatter band where his most well-known and most loved hit “Alperose” was made. Nearly all of his songs were written by himself and needless to say all the songs are sung in the Swiss German dialect and his fame has not really gone very far over the German speaking country borders.

He has often toured around Switzerland visiting the various towns and giving a concert with his band. He has been a couple of times in our local market town of Solothurn and I went twice with my son. The idea was that I would keep an eye on my son that he was safe amongst the rockers, but to tell the truth mum wanted to go as well. I enjoyed every song he sang. We have all the records at home so I was able to sing along.

Last year he was seriously ill and it was generally thought that he would not be amongst us very much longer, however he recovered and the video was made after his illness. Needless to say his life amongst the rockers was not always led in a serious way, but it was all probably just a sign of the times. I found a couple of clips on YouTube but they do not do him credit as they were made at concerts, and the sound is not so good. Nearly all of his songs were No. 1 hits and he sung about the everyday things in a Swiss life. Embedding the films has been disabled so I can only give the link.

Polo Hofer Live

I managed to find a clip of Alperose, not being sung by himself, but one of the newer singers in Switzerland who really has a long way to go to meet Polo but it sort of shows what Swiss pop music is. The film was made in the Swiss version of Music Star where amateurs try their chance to become famous. That is why there is an interview with the singer afterwards. This singer came third in the competition – 2 women beat him. If anyone is interested in foreign tongues, the language he is speaking is Swiss German, the German dialect of Switzerland – this particular one being from around the area of Bern.

And here is the song text

Blüemlisalp i re Summernacht
Nachdäm i ha a Bärgtuur gmacht
Da ha se troffe vor der Hütte us
Si het Wasser gholt für ne Bluemestruss

Uf em Bänkli vor em lääre Stall
Seit si zu mir: "Es isch kei Zuefall
gloube mir sy nume einisch hie"
Als wär's e Film vergissen i's nie

Alperose chöme mir i Sinn
Alperose sy das gsy denn
Alperose müesse das gsy sy
Wo näben üs im Höi gläge sy

Sy zäme zoge am glyche Ort
Wo der Herbscht isch cho, da isch si wider furt
Furt isch furt, u gly het's gschneit
Liebi chunnt u Liebi geit

Me and my Computer

The photo shows my Toshiba Satellite Laptop - or Notebook as they are now called. I bought it in 2003, my first computer for I, me and myself. Up to then I was sharing with my hubby. Not such a good idea - something like learning how to drive a car with the partner - it does not work.

My computer has been my best friend over the last 4 years and almost never let me down. If anything happened it was of course, not the computer's fault, but the administrator. Computers do not make mistakes. However, like myself, the computer has started showing signs of old age. During the weekly Virus programme up date it decided to close down once or twice over the last couple of months - just like that. No signal, no picture just nothing. I did a restart and after a scan my computer was again ready to go. Otherwise my computer and I live more or less in Unison. Ok - he (it?) lost a couple of key covers over the year and its appearance isn't so shiny and bright as on the first day - but it's alive.

When I think of the past years what we have been through together. We got some new softwear, him and me. Apart from the usual Bill Gates collection of Microsoft, we decided to do web sites together so we got Dreamweaver, Fireworks and Flash softwear to make life easier. We really got creative. Making blinkies, altering photos and doing all good things that a computer does when he is told to.

Our e-mail life is also quite interesting. Thanks to our mail washer system we don't let any spam or unwanted annoying mails in. If we do get them then computer tells our system to block them (with the help of a few of computer's friends that he has built into the system). As far as Internet is concerned, computer had a lot of fun. Meeting new people, learning about the world and sometimes even reading an online book now and again. Computer also found doing a blog now and again is quite good as it keeps his insides in tune.

However, like the owner, computer starts feeling old. He is not as quick as his newly born brothers and sisters and he sometimes reaches his limits, especially in speed. However this did not bother his owner as she too found that you don't have to be the speediest to make the most of things. Computer and I didn't go in for music or video very much, we used the other computers at home for that.

However, sometime last week computer was having problem with the screen. His vision was getting a bit weak and he started flashing instead of having a constant bright picture. I felt a bit concerned but as computer cannot speak independently (you have to tell him what to say) I couldn't ask him what was wrong.

Eventually on 17th March, 2007 he closed his eyes for ever. His organs were still functioning but his sight had gone. His screen remained almost blank. Not quite there was a very faint outline to be seen.

In the afternoon I put him in his carrying bag and went for a car drive with him to the computer shop. There was a young man (son of Bill gates?) who took computer into his arms and examined the problem. He told me that with most probability (it is difficult to say definitely) the illumination in the lid serving the screen had given up. It would be easy to replace the light, but taking the screen apart and fitting it together again could be quite expensive. As I didn't have a sickness insurance for computer I had to think things over. Then a suggestion was made. Whether I had a screen at home which I didn't use (I didn't). He then connected computer to a screen in the workshop and behold - it was alive again. In this case it seemed that the internal organs of computer were still functioning.

I then made a quick call to home and hubby confirmed that we had no monitor at home, but said it would be worthwhile to purchase one. I had to think things over. I know that one day Toshiba Satellite will have to go to the happy computer hunting grounds, but I was not yet ready for this. XP has not yet died and Vista is not really alive. By the end of the year the scenery will probably be different. I also had to think over how I move two web sites from one computer to another. I wanted to think this over and would have more time. Something very easy for computer people, but I am a shear amateur in this connection. I quickly made the decision to purchase a monitor.

There were two choices. One monitor which looked like it was ready for the big wide screen and another with a normal sized frame. I decided on the wide screen - it was cheaper and I only need it for an interim time. I eventually arrived home. We quickly discovered that big wide screen was not exactly the ideal for my little Toshiba. After trying to fit a small screen into a wide screen we eventually turned the picture into four times the size of the normal wide screen and spend the next two hours trying to recover it again. Eventually hubby decided to do a reset. A good idea but every icon we managed to start (by this time we had recovered the start menu somewhere distant to the left of the screen) you had to find with the mouse. We had more luck than judgement and eventually the icon was found and a reset made, although I was not really convinced. In the meanwhile we had fitted big wide screen to one of the other computers and taken a normal screen size for Toshiba.

Eventually the reset was made to 08.30 in the morning (it was now 17.00 hours) and Toshiba was showing his sight again and all his configurations through a new screen.

At the moment Toshiba and I are very happy with our new monitor. I had to tell Toshiba that we cannot go outside on the porch any more in the Summer together as the monitor would be a bit inconvenient to shift around. I do not think this bothered Toshiba although his administrator was not so happy about this. There is nothing more relaxing than to sit outside, listen to the birds singing, watch the garden grow and work on the computer.

I hope the next instalment of this story follows when I can tell all about my new computer.

The Adventures of Rocky the Fish

Some years ago, in 1969 to be exact, I wrote this story. 4 months after the story had been written my first son was born. I was tidying up some old papers in the cellar and this story came to my hands so I though I would write it down again. At the time of writing the story we still spoke Engllish at home, so although not perfect, my English did not have the German touch that it has today. I would also add that I am not a fish expert, but just used my imagination. Many fishy eating habits may not be biologically correct, as well as the whole fish world that I have described. I just had fun writing it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter I – The Big Escape

Once upon a time there was a goldfish called Rocky who lived in a big tank filled with other fish, but his best friend was Twit, the water snail. Twit never had any problems. All he had to do was to keep the tank clean with the other water snails who also lived there. Rocky was glad he had a friend like Twit, because Rocky was a very untidy fish. He was always disarranging the waterweed and making messy holes in the sand at the bottom of the tank. The other fish did not like Rocky because of his untidiness and often used to argue with him about it. Geoffrey, the angel fish, was particularly annoyed.

“Here am I” he used to say, “the prettiest fish in the tank, but Rocky spends all his time making the tank so untidy that it just spoils my beautiful appearance.”

And then he would swim off full of his own self-importance.

“And that’s not the worse”, said Fred the catfish “he messes up the water weed so much that I can’t see out of the glass. Goodness knows it’s bad enough swimming round and round in the same tank all the time, but it doesn’t improve matters when I can’t even see what the humans are doing outside.”

Rocky used to get very unhappy about this situation, but there was nothing he could do. He asked Twit for some advice on this unpleasant state of affairs, but Twit could not help very much.

“You see Rocky” he said in his squeaky high-pitched voice, “my body is built for keeping things clean. Even if I wanted to be messy, I couldn’t. But you are a goldfish and in your case it’s completely psychological. You have to want to be tidy before you can be.”

"But I do try” said Rocky, “it’s just that I never seem to have time as I am always too tired. You know I always have to be on my toes in this place. Most of my concentration is taken up with making sure that I get to the top of the aquarium in time when we are fed or that greedy catfish always eats the lot. And I have to get a good nights sleep of at least ten hours to stop myself becoming giddy going round and round all the time in this awful tank.”

“I think I know the answer to your problem Rocky” said Twit, “but I don’t know whether you will be able to manage it or not. I think what you need is a change of scenery and water and the quicker the better. The best thing for you to do would be to leave the tank for a few water changes and then return once again. I am sure that would do you the world of good.”

“That’s all very well to say” said Rocky, “but you know how difficult it is and don’t forget there were other fish living here that have had big ideas about escape. Remember Blob, the rainbow fish. He decided that we weren’t good enough for him. He was always talking about his noble ancestors and he decided to leave us. He went about twenty water changes ago and never came back. I heard from Geoffrey that he got stuck in the water pipe and just dried up.”

“What a terrible death” said Twit. “But really in your case I think it’s the only answer. Your know” he continued, “the other fish won’t have much more patience with you and there will be trouble quite soon. Fred is slowly loosing his temper and you know what those catfish can be like in a nasty mood.”

“I suppose you are right Twit”, Rocky answered. “I shall make my escape attempt at the next water change” and he then began to mentally prepare himself for the Big Escape.

The day of the next water change came. All the fish became excited because their sense of perception told them that today was the day. Rocky was especially nervous and had not spoken to a single fish all day. Even Twit had difficulty getting him to talk. Twit would have liked to have been able to escape with Rocky, but for a water snail it was impossible. You see, there was only one way to make an escape. All the fish were put into a big sink whilst the tank was being cleaned and fresh water being put in. The hole at the bottom of the sink was naturally blocked, but there still remained the overflow exit at the top of the sink. Of course, there was never that much water in the sink for the fish to be able to swim out, but some of the fish were clever enough to be able to jump up and reach the overflow opening. By this method they believed they could reach the outside world where the big waters of their dreams were.

Rocky had never had dreams about the big waters. He was born in a fish tank and had always lived there. His father often used to tell him of the open seas where the big fish lived and where there was always enough food. There was then no need to wait for a pinch of ants eggs every three days, which was all that could be expected from the humans. As a young fish Rocky used to listen intently to his father and used to imagine what it was like, but as he had never experienced it himself, he was not all that worried. But now he knew that all this time he must have been subconsciously suffering from claustrophobia and Twit had made him realise this.

Rocky naturally felt a bit sad about leaving Twit behind, but he knew that the water snail would never be happy in a big wide open sea. After all, water snails were only needed in a tank (so he thought). In the sea their purpose would be lost. Twit had often told Rocky of the water snails he had met in the tank which had come from the outside world. Most of them were in such a nervous state when they arrived that it was at least four water changes before they could start thinking about keeping the water in the tank clean. This always annoyed Twit, because it meant that he had to work twice as fast to do his job properly.

Eventually the time came. The big tank was emptied into the sink and the fish were glad to be swimming free instead of confined in four glass walls. The sink was spacious and airy and its sides were smooth and cool. Twit clung onto a piece of waterweed as he was swept out of the tank and remained clinging to it whilst in the sink. He did not like the sides of the sink as it was too cold for his sucker and always gave him shocking rheumatism after returning to the tank. Once he got it so bad it put him out of action for a whole water change. Rocky was in the corner of the sink preparing himself for the big leap. He was lucky this time as the water in the sink was higher and the distance to jump was not so far.

“Go on Rocky” Twit said, “now’s your chance. 1, 2, 3 and you’re there.”
“O.K.” said Rocky, “here goes. Thanks for everything Twit, I’ll never forget all you have done for me.”
“Don’t mention it” Twit replied, “I will miss you, but I think this is really what you need. If you ever come back, then I am sure you will be a much tidier and cleaner fish.”
“I hope so” said Rocky and they were the last words he said to Twit because then he jumped.

Although Rocky had prepared himself for his flight through the air, he was not quite ready for the feeling of suffocation he got once out of the water. His gills felt as it they would drop off, but he managed to leap through the overflow exit and then had a feeling of falling, falling, falling …… Rocky became unconcious.

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter II – The Road to Freedom

Eric the eel was swimming quite calmly and peacefully in the sewage reservoir, wondering where to go next. He had been swept in from the river up the main sewer and decided that he had had enough of the sewage centre. There was not much to eat and he did not like the company. He hated being amongst water slugs as they always made him feel dirty and he could not take his daily bath in this sewer. He also thought the water smelt and in any case it was about time he returned to his wife Daphne, as it was close approaching the Summer holiday season and they should begin preparing for their annual trip to the Sargasso Sea, which is where they went every year to meet their friends. All of a sudden Eric saw something orange and still laying at the bottom of the water next to a stone.

“That’s a colourful looking object” he thought to himself and decided to have a closer look. “Why, it’s a fish” he said and gave it a prod with his blunt nose. “Hey you, wake up, it isn’t time for sleeping yet.”

Rocky felt a slight bump over his gills and opened his mouth and eyes. It was quite dark in the sewage depot and it took him some time to get used to it there. He finally made out the outlines of the eel and felt a bit worried as he had never seen anything quite like an eel before in his tank.

“W-W-Wh-Who are you?” said Rocky, shivering half in fright and half with cold.

“I’m Eric, an eel, but you don’t have to worry about me. I used to eat fish like you, but I’m getting a bit old in the tooth now and can’t manage the bones anymore. Anyhow you don’t look all that inviting at the moment. Not much flesh on you. Where have you been and what have they been feeding you on. You look half starved.”

Rocky told the eel where he had come from and when he told Eric of his diet of ants eggs, Eric became noticeably pale under his shiny black coat.

“You poor fish” said Eric in his deep eel-like voice, “those humans are just about the end. Ants eggs are for shrimps, not for growing goldfish. I don’t blame you for escaping. What are your future plans?.”

“I havn’t yet decided” replied Rocky, “that is, I don’t know” he emphasised. “I don’t even know where I am and I don’t like this place very much, it’s too dark and creepy” and he started to cry, as well as a fish could.

“There, there” said Eric, “don’t cry little one, I’ll look after you. I’m planning to leave this place anyhow” said Eric. “I don’t like it here, it’s much too unsociable and I am beginning to miss the wife, she gets worried when I’m so long away from home. Tell you what, Rocky, I say, don’t mind me calling you that do you?” – he carried on without waiting for an answer – “you can come part of the way with me, but when we get to the open river, you will have to leave me. It looks a bit bad for a grown up eel to be seen with a goldfish. Spoils the image and all that.”

Rocky was still a bit frightened of this new companion, but would do almost anything to get out of this smelly sewage place and gratefully accepted Eric’s offer. He dried his eyes on a bit of orange peel that floated by and shook his tail a bit. This freshened him up and they set off together, side by side. At least Rocky was at the side of Eric’s tail end as Eric was so long compared to the little goldfish. The sewage farm led into a conduit which, although narrow by human standards, was big enough by fish and eel standards and the both of them swam contentedly onwards. Rocky was still a bit pessimistic about the future.

“If this is an example of the wonderful outside word” he thought, “I was better off in the tank, at least I could see something through the windows.”

“Are you O.K. there little one” Eric asked.

“Yes, thank you Mr. Eel” Rocky politely replied.

“Oh, you can call me Eric, all my friends do.”

“Thank you Eric” Rocky replied.

“I wish Twit could be with me” Rocky thought, “he’ll never believe it whan I tell him what my first friend looked like.”

As they were going along it seemed to be getting a bit lighter and there was more space. Rocky caught up with Eric’s head.

“Where are we now Eric” he asked.

“Oh, it’s not far now” was the answer. “I’m afraid we shall soon have to part company, but I can give you some advice before we go our separate ways. Always keep your tail straight and you can’t go wrong. And never make friends with a thin eel. He would make a nice midday meal from the gills. Now here we are at the entrance to the river. I have to make my fairwell now. I wish you the best of luck Rocky and don’t forget, the river isn’t always that friendly.”

Rocky was just about to ask what a “river” was and Eric disappeared.

Rocky found himself quite alone blinking in the sudden strong light which had appeared. The water also felt slightly warmer and fresher. Here it was nice. Perhaps this was the “river” that Eric kept talking about. Rocky decided that he liked the “river” and began swimming about a bit to get the feel of it. The bottom of the river was not sandy as the tank had been, but stony. Rocky liked this, as the stones contained tiny crevices into which he could push his nose seeking out a juicy water flea here and there. Rocky had not eaten since early that morning and was starving. He had never eaten a water flea before but decided he quite liked them, much better than ants eggs. Another nice thing about the “river” was that he did not have to swim in circles all the time. He found that the headache he had had for the past few water changes in the tank had disappeared completely and he felt fresher and a much cleaner fish than he had for a long time.

“I knew Twit was right” he thought. “It’s a shame I’ll never be able to thank him properly for all his help and advice.”

Already Rocky had forgotten about returning to the tank, here he had found at last true happiness and peace.

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter III – A New World

Rocky was swimming peacefully along the river bed enjoying his new surroundings. Although he was still quite new to the river, he had already decided in his own mind that here he was much happier than in the aquarium with the other argumentative fish. Here in the river everyone kept themselves to themselves and did not bother with other fish’s business. That is, as far as Rocky knew. He had not actually met that many other fish so far and had definitely not spoken to a fish since his meeting with Eric the eel. Rocky was not basically a shy fish as he still had his youthful curiousity, so he was beginning to feel like having a conversation with somebody.

Rocky suddenly saw something flash through a patch of waterweed and decided to go over and investigate. What he found was rather unexpected. There was a creature there which rather resembled his friend Eric but it seemed to have the beginnings of arms and had a complete pair of legs on the sides of its long blunt body. It was not as big as Eric, even smaller than Rocky and it was swimming around on the surface of the water.

“Well” thought rocky, “I have to begin being sociable with my new neighbours at some time or another, so I may as well choose this strange looking creature for my first conversation. He looks a bit like a small version of Eric and Eric was quite friendly so I expect this fish is a well. But perhaps it’s one of the thin eels that Eric told me to be careful of. Oh, well I suppose I had better ask.”

Rocky approached the creature which was now lying on its back wiggloing the funny little stubs it had on both sides of its body.

“Excuse me” Rocky said to it, “but are you an eel?”

The creature turned and looked in Rocky’s direction. At least the eyes moved towards Rocky, but they were a bit difficult to see as they were quite small and set towards the back of the head.

“I beg your pardon” was the indignant reply from the fish-like object. “Am I an eel? Do I look like one of those repulsive creatures? How dare you insult me.”

“I am terribly sorry sir” said Rocky apologetically, “but I am quite new here and havn’t met any fish so far, only an eel and I thought you may be an eel as well.”

“Well, as you seem to have only just arrived, then I shall forgive you this time, but you may as well know that I am definitely not an eel and absolutely not a fish. My name is Terrance and I am a tadpole.”"

How do you do Mr. Tadpole” said Rocky politely.

“How do you do” said the tadpole rather stiffly and they both wiggled their tails, which is the fishy way of shaking hands.

“Actually,” continued the tadpole “I’m still quite young you know. When I am older I shall be leaving this wet place for land.”

“What’s land?” asked Rocky.

“Land! Why you are young aren’t you” said the tadpole.

“I’m at least forty water changes old” said Rocky indignantly.

“Well I don’t know what a water change is” replied the tadpole, “but you must be quite an inexperienced fish if you don’t yet know what land is. Land is where I will go when my arms and legs develop like my father and mother’s have. Then I will be a lovely shade of green and nice and slimy.”

“Oh, I see” said Rocky, still a bit confused. “Is everyone on “land” green and slimy?” he asked.

“Oh, no” replied the tadpole, “only us frogs”.

“But you’re a tadpole, not a frog” said Rocky.

“But I will be a frog eventually like my mum and dad” emphasised the tadpole “and now please go away little fish and don’t ask me any more silly questions or I shall quite lose my temper. I havn’t got time to talk to a stupid fish all day long, there are other important things to do. I’m a growing tadpole and need plenty of food to keep me fit. Now please go away and don’t bother me any more.”

“Yes sir” said Rocky and turned away from the tadpole to go further on his way.

Rocky was feeling quite sad now. It seemed that no-one could be bothered with a goldfish in the river and he was beginning to miss Twit and even the other fish in the aquarium. Even if they were always shouting at him, at least they would talk to him. Here in the river he had no-one to talk to and was quite lonely.

“Hello then, what have we here” boomed a deep voice behind Rocky’s tail.

Rocky was quite startled by this intrusion into his train of thought and turned quickly round to see who was talking to him. He was amazed to find an enormous fish, bigger than anything he had ever seen in the tank, indeed this fish would probably have difficulty fitting into the aquarium.

“You are a pretty fish” said the big fish “and what a lovely appetising colour your coat is” he carried on.

Rocky took a closer look at the fish as it was speaking and was quite astonised at the size of the fish’s mouth. Rocky decided it was about time he said something as he knew it was rude to stare.

“I’m a goldfish” said Rocky.

“I thought you were” said the big fish, “I’ve met your type before, but unfortunately I have never been able to get to know them very well.”

“Why is that?” asked Rocky.

“Because I eat them” said the big fish and he made a quick dart at Rocky, but luckily Rocky was still young and quick with his fins and managed to swim out of reach and hide behind a stone.

The big fish, because of his size, was quite clumsy and was not able to reach Rocky, but unfortunately Rocky was trapped. He could not move from behind the stone as the big fish would then seize the opportunity to eat Rocky for his dinner.

“Where are you, you devil” called the big fish. “You wait till I catch you, then I shall make a meal of you.”

“Oh dear” thought Rocky, “now I am in trouble. Oh, why couldn’t I be a clean and tidy fish like the others in the tank, then I wouldn’t have had to leave and come to this place. All that happened to me today is trouble. First a rude conversation with Terrance the tadpole and now this big fish that wants me for this next meal.”

From where Rocky was hiding he could see the big fish quite clearly through a crack in the stone. He also saw something move quickly behind the fish’s tail and suddenly the big fish screamed and turned round. Rocky then saw that there was another fish in the water, about the same size as Rocky, but silver instead of gold, and this fish had neatly bitten into the tail of the big fish.

The big fish had now recovered from his shock to a certain extent and was more angry than ever. He could not decide whether he ought to chase the silver fish or whether to wait for Rocky to come out from behind the stone. He decided that the pain in his tail was worse than the hunger pains in his stomach and began following the silver fish.

Rocky was too astonished at the turn of events to move, but the silver fish shouted out to him to take the opportunity to come out from behind the stone and to escape.

“But what about you?” called Rocky.

“That’s O.K. answered the silver fish, “I can look after myself.”

So Rocky made his way out from the hiding place, but being a brave goldfish he could not let his unknown helper be eaten alive by the big fish so he also gave chase and when he caught up he bit the big fish’s tail, as he had seen the silver fish do it.

“Why, you two squirts” said the big fish “you wait till I get you both, I’ll make you into minced fish”.

“Oh no, you won’t Mr. Trout” called out the silver fish “because you have to catch us first”.

He then called to Rocky to follow him which Rocky did and the silver fish led him through a crevice in between two large stones which the big fish, a trout, as Rocky had now learnt from his rescuer, could not get through because of his size. The tunnel between the stones led to an opening at the bed of the river and both of them paused to get their breath back after the chase they had just had.

“I’m quite out of breath” said the silver fish “it’s ages since I have had so much exercise. Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to speak to a trout in the river” he continued.

“I don’t come from the river” said Rocky “I come from an aquarium and managed to escape, but I think I would prefer to go back if all the fish are as unsociable as the last one I just met.”

“Oh, we are not all like that” said the silver fish. “The trout is getting a bit old in the tooth now, but I can remember the time when no fish escaped from him if he was hungry. Anyhow you don’t have to worry about him any more.”

“Yes, I know” said Rocky “thanks very much, you saved my life.”

“Oh, it was nothing” said the silver fish “but don’t forget to be a bit more careful the next time.”

“Yes, I will” said Rocky.

“My name is Rodney, by the way” said the silver fish. “Who are you?”

“I’m Rocky, very pleased to meet you” and they wiggled their tails.

“What sort of a fish are you?” asked Rocky.

“I’m just a tiddler now” said Rodney, “but one day I’ll grow up to be big and strong like the trout, then I’ll be a roach which is a member of the famous carp family. Great grandfather carp was quite famous in this river, he was quite a chap for the ladies, but not me. I’m the footloose and fancy free type. I havn’t got time for settling down. What about you?”

“I can’t say, I have never thought much about it” answered Rocky, “I havn’t had much time lately.”

“Tell you what” said Rodney, “you seem to be a lad after my own heart and you have a lot to learn in the river. What about keeping me company for a while? I can teach you a lot and it gets quite lonely on my own sometimes.”

“Thank you for the offer” said Rocky, “I am very pleased to have met you and I am sure we will have a fine time together.”

“Well for a start” said Rodney, “let’s swim a bit down stream and I’ll show you around” and they both swam off down the river and disappeared into the waterweed.

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter IV – Twit

Meanwhile back in the aquarium Twit was feeling lonely. The other fish never bothered to epak to him as they considered a water snail to be too low a creature for them to speak to. After all, everyone knew that water snails had no intelligence of their own and one could not get a sensible conversation out of them. But naturally this was not true, water snails are very intelligent animals and very clever. Twit missed Rocky very much and wanted to see him again, but he realised that Rocky would never be able to return to the tank. Twit began pining for his friend to such an extent that he could not keep the tank properly clean any more and could just not concentrate on his work.

Eventually the humans began noticing how the water in the tank was getting dirtier and dirtier quicker than it usually did and it meant that the water had to be changed more often. Basically humans are lazy creatures and did not enjoy working any more than they had to, so they decided to find out the cause of the dirtiness in the tank and remove it. It did not take them long to decide that Twit was not doing his work properly and so they put some other water snails in the tank.

It thus happened that one day Twit was clinging to the side of the tank with his sucker when he was suddenly pulled out and dropped into the sink.

“But this isn’t a water change day” thought twit quickly to himself. “What’s happening, there’s not even any water in the sink” and all of a sudden the big tap in the sink was turned on and Twit was washed down the plug hole through the long water pipe.

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter V – A Surprise for Everyone

Rocky and his new friend Rodney were enjoying themselves playing hide and seek amongst the waterweed in the river. It was a nice day and the sun shone through the waterweed reflecting a lovely green glow throughout the water.

“It’s your turn now to go and hide Rodney” said Rocky.

“I’m getting fed up with this game” said Rodney, “let’s go hunting. I’m hungry and in any case it’s getting near dinner time.”

“O.K.” answered Rocky. “I’m agreeable, my fins have started twitching so it must be time for eating.”

“Have you ever eaten water worms?” asked Rodney. “They are very tasty.”

“No, I havn’t” answered Rocky “up to now I have only managed to find water fleas to eat and I find them quite tasty.”

“But you havn’t lived until you have eaten a water worm” said Rodney. “They are lovely and juicy, one of them provides enough to eat for a day.”

“Where do you find them Rodney?” Rocky asked.

“Unfortunately you have to work a bit harder for them. They usually live under big stones and you have to push the stone away with your nose before being able to find them. Once found, however, they are not difficult to catch. Let’s try under that big stone over there.”

Rocky swam over to the direction where Rodney was pointing and Rodney quickly followed. They combined their efforts to push away the stone with their noses. After some time it began moving slowly and suddenly the stone turned over. Both fish had to move quickly out of the way otherwise it would have crushed them. The water became dirty where the mud had been disturbed by the moving stone. However, when they returned to survey the aftermath of the operation there were about three water worms wriggling on the bed of the river.

“Follow me” said Rodney and Rodney and Rocky killed them quickly and began eating.

“Why, they’re delicious” said Rocky, “I didn’t know such nice food existed.”

“It’s my favourite meal” said Rodney, “but don’t eat them too quickly or they will give you indigestion.”

After their feast the two fish decided to have a short nap to enable their food to get properly digested.

So life went on for Rocky. He continued learning new things every day from Rodney until the river held no more secrets from him and he felt quite at home. Now and again his mind would go back to the old times in the aquarium, but that was so long ago now, that he had almost forgotten, almost.

One day he was swimming along on his own, as Rodney was away doing his training for becoming a grown up roach with the carp regiment, when he heard the sound of someone crying. It was such a sad sound that he felt he had to investigate to see what was wrong. He moved quietly through the water in the direction of the sound in case there was danger lurking around anywhere and eventually came to a clearing in the waterweed. There in the middle was another fish, something like Rocky, but a bit smaller. This other goldfish was crying its eyes out and looked very miserable and sad.

Rocky was amazed. It was the first time he had seen another goldfish in the river and he had certainly never seen such a beautiful goldfish in all his life. He had grown up quite a lot since leaving the tank and had got a lot older and wiser, but he was still not prepared for this sort of surprise, as it was the first female goldfish he had seen.

“I suppose I had better see what’s wrong” thought Rocky, so he swam over to the female fish.

“Can I help you?” asked Rocky.

The other fish turned round started, but when she saw it was another goldfish her big round eyes lost their frightened look.

“You startled me” she said, “I thought it was “them” still after me”.

“Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” asked Rocky.

“I’m so miserable” she answered “and I have had such a terrible shock it nearly made my gold turn yellow.”

“Oh no” said Rocky “your coat is a beautiful colour if I may say so.”

“Thank you” said the female goldfish and she blushed quite obviously underneath her gold coat, giving it a lovely reddish glow. “If you are really that interested” she continued, “I will tell you what has happened.”

“Please do” said Rocky “I may be able to help.”

“It all started some time ago. You see I don’t come from the river, but I come originally from an aquarium, but one day the aquarium broke and lall the water flowed away so one of the humans picked me up and put me in the sink, but I got washed down it and eventually ended up in the river.”

“Well” said Rocky, “something like that happened to me too, but I was glad to escape from the tank and now I’m quite happy here.”

“I was too” she said “but something terrible has just happened and I just feel so miserable. This morning after waking up I felt hungry and all of a sudden I saw a nice juicy worm at the top of the water. I hadn’t been able to find a decent meal all week so you can imagine how hungry I felt and I grabbed it. Suddenly I felt something underneath me and I was being lifted out of the water. Just imagine, being taken out of the water. It was just like when the tank broke, but worse.”

“You poor thing” said rocky sympathetically. “Do go on.”

“I discovered that I was being lifted out in a sort of net, but luckily the holes were big enough to escape through, so I managed to swim out just before being lifted completely out of the water, but then this net started following me all along the river. I tell you I had to swim for my life before being able to find a stone big enough to hide under. I stayed there for at least a whole half sun rise until I thought it was safe enough to come out. Eventually I found this clearing here amongst the waterweed and when you appeared I thought they were coming after me again. I am sure it’s the humans you know, I heard their deep voices above the water as I was being taken out.”

“How awful” said Rocky “you can’t trust anyone these days.”

“And now” continued the female fish “I have just about had enough of this river. I havn’t spoken to anybody since coming here, but you and I feel so lonely and miserable” and she started crying once again.

“There, there” said Rocky and put his fin around her. “Don’t cry anymore it spoils your wonderful fishy looks.”

“You are the nicest person I have met since coming to the river” she said “What’s your name.”

“I’m Rocky” he said “May I ask yours?”

“Of course”, she replied, “I’m Esmerelda.”

“Well, Esmerelda, I tell you what, dry your eyes and we’ll go for a swim together”.

“Oh yes” answered Esmerelda, “I would enjoy that very much” and they both swam off together fin in fin.

That was the first of many swims that Rocky and Esmerelda had together and they were very happy in each other’s company.

When Rodney returned from his military training, he was not surprised to find that Rocky had a girlfriend. After all Rodney realised that Rocky, although a good friend, was not like himself and was the sort who should settle down with someone. In any case Rodney had been promoted this time whilst in the army and was now becoming roach of the first grade, which meant he would anyhow have to part company with Rocky, but the two fish still remained good friends and always wiggled tails when they met by chance in the river.

Eventually Rocky asked Esmerelda to marry him and Esmerelda accepted, so they began looking for somewhere to live. They eventually found a nice spot in the river, but it needed cleaning quite a bit before being habitable. This mean a lot of work for them both, but then something happened.

One day Rocky was hunting for worms for him and Esmerelda when he turned over a big stone (he was now a big strong goldfish and could turn over stones on his own). Underneath was not the river worm he expected to find, but who do you think? Why there was Twit, his old friend, the water snail.

“Twit, what are you doing here” asked Rocky.

“Rocky, why you’re still alive” said Twit, “I am glad to see you.”

Then Twit explained about being not wanted in the aquarium and told Rocky about being swept down the sink through the sewer to the river, where he had been ever since, looking for something useful to do and getting more and more miserable all the time.

Rocky then told Twit of his plans on getting married.

“Do come and meet Esmerelda” said Rocky “I am sure you will like her.”"

O.K.” said Twit, “but I don’t know what she’ll think of a poor old unwanted out-of-work water snail like me, who is no good at his job any more.”

“Now come on Twit” said Rocky, “you know that’s just not true, why in a couple of sunrises you will be your old self.”

Esmerelda, being a very nice goldfish, naturally took to Twit straight away and had a wonderful idea, which she discussed with Rocky. Then they both approached Twit.

“I say Twit” said Rocky “Esmerelda and I have been talking it over and we have found somewhere to live, but it’s going to be a lot of work to keep it clean. What I mean to say is that we may need someone, that is, Oh Twit will you come and be our sort of cleaning help. I mean you are so good at it and it would be nice if you would accept.”

Twit could not believe his ears, at last something worth doing, what he was meant to do, a purpose in his little lost life. He accepted.

* * * * * * * * * *

Now if you ever happen to be walking by the river on a lovely Sunday afternoon and see a family of goldfish swimming along accompanied by a family of water snails (Twit was not so old after all) then you will know who they are.

14^th May, 1969