A Day at Home

As I worked on our Corpus Christi holiday I had a day off today to compensate. I did not really intend doing anything special, and had quite a full programme early in the morning. First of all I took my son to work at 7.00 in the morning, then I went to the physiotherapist for half an hours torture. Afterwards I decided to get the daily shopping finished. On the way to the supermarket in the nearby village of Langendorf the sky started turning to a slightly dismal colour - actually black. I took the photo an hour later at home when it started brightening up.

I arrived at the parking lot at the supermarket and realised that I would not be able to leave the car until it stopped raining. Well actually rain was an understatement. If I had seen an elderly gentleman with a long white beard building a large wooden boat and collecting animals 2 by 2 to put into it, I would not have been surprised. It was also quite windy so my car resembled a ship on high sea from time to time. I looked at the clock in the car, 08.40 a.m. I thought to myself, such a freak storm cannot last long and would at least wait five minutes to subside. Ten minutes later I decided this was ridiculous, the rain was somewhat lighter, so I grabbed my umbrella and shopping bags and made a run for it (not quite - I do not run any more).

I arrived at the entrance to the supermarket, finding a small crowd of people waiting to walk back to their cars. They did not seem surprised at my appearance, but I supposed the wet look on me does not really make a big impression these days. Eventually I got the shopping done and arrived home. I found that my potted plants were laying flat outside and that the larger plants in the garden were not standing up so straight anymore.

However, before tending to the destruction in the garden, my first thought was to my cats. Where were they - did they survive the storm? Were they frightened by the thunder and lightening?. Fluffy, the blind cat was asleep indoors on a chair. Nera, the long haired black cat was looking out the window waiting to be able to go out again. But where was Tabby? I looked everywhere but suddenly she appeared in the kitchen as if to say what's all the fuss about. I then packed out the shopping and made myself a well deserved nerve-soothing coffee.

I then went out to the garden and spent the next hour clearing the devistation up. It could have been worse. A few bent reeds and broken stalks. On my way home from the supermarket the road had traces of broken trees so I sort of knew what to expect.

Next job - clean up the flat. I know I had the day off but we housewives miss something if we cannot clean anything, especially when the male part of the household is not there (he was on the village senior outing - I am too young to go with them).

And then a surprise just after lunch. I saw a lorry parked on our small through road, which was unusual and saw the writing on the lorry something about racing cars. So what did I do - took a photo.

I got curious. I wondered if some sort of famous racing driver had decided to move into our village. We have quite a low tax rate (too many millionaires) and it could be attractive. We already have one neighbour with a Ferrari. So there was me armed with my camera in the garden. The lorry was parked for some time and the back was open. After looking further I saw that there was a racing car perched on the lorry platform. It was not being delivered, but had been picked up from somewhere. I took another photo, but as I did not want to walk over and get to near, in case difficult questions were asked, I managed to zoom in on it with the photo programme and here is the result.

The things I must miss when I am at work. Eventually the lorry driver left, so I do not really know more than I did before.

The remains of my day passed normally with no great excitement. I am now at home waiting for my other half to return, tired but happy, after his day with the seniors of the village.

Uhren Cup 2007

First of all I am not going to start blogging in German - my knowledge of the language is more lingual than written, but the Uhren Cup is the Uhren Cup and I could not find an English translation (Uhr = watch or clock). This takes place every year in the town of Grenchen in the Kanton of Solothurn which is about 10-15 minutes drive from where I live.

Grenchen had its high days before the time of Swatch and other electronic watches. It was the one of the centers of the watchmaking industry in Switzerland. Here is started and spread out towards the town of Biel and to the French parts of the Jura mountain chain. The watchmaking industry still exists, but mainly for special good quality watches. The mass production of electronic watches tended to destroy a lot of the tradition.

Grenchen also has quite a good football team (on Swiss standards) and for some unknown reason every year the Uhren cup is played on the pitch, which includes a few international teams. There stadium is known as Brühl. I will not go into too many details about why or how the cup is played as I found quite a good link for the Uhren Cup.

I think my blogging friend Ronnie may be interested in this as this year Celtic Glasgow have decided to join the party. I was speaking to my physiotherapist this week (whilst he was massaging my blogging shoulder) about this cup. He is the physiotherapist to one of the local football clubs so if you talk to him about football, you usually get quite a conversation. He reckons that there are some football clubs abroad that just like to come to Switzerland.

There was a report in the local newspaper of an interview between the Solothurn Zeitung (newspaper) and the director of the Uhren Cup - Sascha Ruefer, so I allowed myself to do a quick translation:

Mr. Ruefer, the negotiations with the 4th team for the Uhren cup seem to take quite a time. Why?

Ruefer: It was not easy, Celtic Glasgow play in another league as the teams that we have dealt with up to now

What was different?

Rufer:The Celtic representatives came to Switzerland three times for an inspection. They took photos of the turf from every angle possible, inspected every detail and eventually had a dossier about the stadium Brühl which formed the basis for their decision. The Celtic requirements are very detailed. The pitch must be in a perfect condition. If not, for instance, Celtic can withdraw at the last minute, according to the contract. I am a bit uneasy about this in case that Grenchen does not realise the seriousness of what can happen. I am sure that the town garden centre will do everything possible to help with the Uhren Cup.

Once again, why did it take such a time until the signing of the contract?

Rufer: The negotiations already began in November. Various representatives of the club were involved, game intermediaries as well as hotel representatives.

Celtic Glasgow, a dream?

Ruefer: We would have broken up negotiations with another club, but we remained. Such a chance does not present itself more than once in life. We must be aware of this in Grenchen.

And pay accordingly for it?

Ruefer: We have an uncle Scrooge in our team in the shape of our finance chief Roger Rossier. I often paid him a visit and tried to get some financial help from him, but he remained ice cold. The Uhren cup knows its financial limits. In comparison to other years we do not spend more money on the engagement of the club.

How is this possible?

Ruefer: We have a main sponsor that participates in the costs of the accomodation of Red Bull Salzburg. That helped us a lot.

What is the range of the amounts paid to the teams taking part in the Uhren cup?

Ruefer: We have decided to maintain silence in this aspect, this belongs to business. There is little sense in talking about amounts, as this is difficult to classify in public. I can only say we have remained within the budget in connection with our commitments.

What do Celtic bring?

Ruefer: The engagement of the Scottish masters brings more spectators. We had to insure the club by contract that per game 3000 tickets will be ready for them, which will be sold to their fans in Scotland.

How realistic is it that Celtic will sell the tickets?

Ruefer: I do not want to fool myself, but we will keep the seats free. A Celtic representative said that the stadium will be filled with Celtic fans. For these fans it is the best to be able to accompany their team. Many do not even get tickets for a home match. 2 to 3 years ago 6000 fans accompanied Celtic to a training match in Spain. But, as said, we wat to see how the ticket sales develop first of all.

That means that if someone wants a ticket for the Uhren cup they will have to hurry?

Ruefer: Who wants to have a seat has to get their ticket before it is too late.

How does the safety look?

Ruefer: We have had first contacts with the security people. A possibility is that we must create sectors and channel the spectator currents.

And what about accomodation?

Ruefer: First contacts in the area of Biel and Solothurn were positive. Grenchen are still behind in this connection. Contact with the tourist office has not been successful up to now, except for the remark that they are not a hotel reception. Here we are missing a certain support. A few hotels in Grenchen are intersted and naturally will be considered.

All other information can be found on the link above.

Berta is astonished

I was driving to work with my camera ready on the seat next to me in the car in case there was a stop at the traffic lights. Once again I was lucky and I had to wait just opposite from our local library. We are a small town but have a fairly large library. As the library is a sort of cultural middle point in a small market town, the surroundings are also fairly cultural. A small park, a well cared for building and of course a nice monument outside.

Most towns have monuments carved in stone depicting some sort of heroic historical figure, and so does our town, but not in front of the library. Someone decided to do something completely different. Here is the result

So now meet Berta. Unfortunately at the time of waiting in my car at the traffice lights, Berta was surrounded by a parked car and a van and had to look out between to see what was going on. Berta is the product of a local artist, Marianne Flück, and a very good product as far as I am concerned. I am not sure why the town decided on Berta, but at first she was sitting in one of our quaint old squares just near the county police centre a bit isolated from the goings on of our town. With time it was decided to move her and for a few years she guards the entrance of the local library. I just love her - perhaps she is astonished at the amount of traffic passing bye either on its way in the Geneva direction or going to the East to Zürich.

So lets do Berta credit and show her how she really looks in all her glory. She does not have any weight problems, a bit on the voluptuous side, but doesn't really care and even her colour is not a problem. In the cold Winters most of us go a bit blue. Who knows? perhaps she is look for Bert (now that would be interesting). Just to show her in her full beauty here is another photo. Also a photo from the car, not that I got that close, I just zoomed in a bit. As you can see the birds do not really leave her in peace, but it just does not seem to bother her very much.

The Zeppelin

The Zeppelin probably brings to most people memories of a very bad accident which happened in 1937, the cause of which has never been found. Was it an accident or was it sabotage? I was watching a very interesting film on the television made by a German company. The programme showed the history of the Zeppelin and also the film of the accident. There were interviews with a few survivors, who could be seen jumping out of the Zepplin 1937 upon the landing in Lakehurst in America. They were then children of course, but nevertheless the memories of this crash landing and the burning remains of the Zepplin surrounding them had never been forgotton.

One survivor had lost his sister and father in the crash, and his mother survived with bad burns. The father had a camera on board and had taken photos of his family. The father did not survive, but the camera did and with it the film showing the last photos of the sister and the father himself. It was the mother that had pushed her children out of the wreck taking a chance that survival was more likely from falling as from being burnt. Another survivor was a 15 year old cabin boy that just jumped and ran for his life.

There was a discussion as to whether it was an accident or not. The main problem and cause for the fire was that at this time the balloon was filled with hydrogen (inflammable) and not with helium as was the case with the American ships. Helium was not being delivered to Germany at the time. Any further information as to these interesting ships can be found in Wikipedia under

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zeppelin.

The Zeppelin lives again. Flights are being made from the port of Friedrichshafen a city on the shore of the Lake of Constance which borders Switzerland and Germany. I was once on a visit to this part of Switzerland and made a tour of the Lake on one of the sightseeing boats. It was quite an impression to see one of these Zeppelins flying across the Lake. Some time ago their manufacture was started, naturally suited to modern day science, and they are no longer the dangerous gas balloons of earlier years, although their engines can still be heard when they fly over. Even where I live, in the Northern part of Switzerland, a Zeppelin has been known to take a flight over our village. You hear a strange noise and go to see what it is and lo and behold and Zeppelin is flying over the house. Most impressive.

I do know a few people that have made a trip on one of these modern day Zeppelins. It is not a cheap flight, and you must have patience as it can be that a waiting time of months is to be taken into calculation. The photo above shows one of the new modern zeppelins and the photo below a close up of the passenger compartment. If anyone would like to take a trip then you may follow this link

Our Daily Bread

On Sunday the shops are closed - at least in Switzerland in a place that does not belong to the tourist areas. This means you have to buy everything you need by Saturday, which I did, intending to bake a bread with my machine for Sunday. Guess what - I forgot. The result was on Sunday evening we had no bread. However, no despair, one shop is open in Solothurn the nearest large town (5 minutes by car) at the Railway Station, catering for all urgent needs.

I jumped into my car and drove through the town to the local Underground car park which was nearest to the station. As we are a general building site through town at the moment, everything takes a bit longer. However, I arrived at the car park safe and sound.

After parking the car (2nd from right) I made my way to the station (a five minute walk). See photo of local railway station. Quite large and the shop is left at the entrance.

And just to show it is really a railway station here are photos of the railway lines, one going in the direction of Zürich, the next direction Geneva (our town is sort of in the middle).

There seemed to be enough bread available, although there were two customers before me also buying bread, so I did not feel so alone with my problem. I had another five minute walk back to the car park, so took a couple of photos on the way of the station surroundings. I was wondering why stations have such ugly buildings nearby.

This is the main center for the post office, the post arriving by train of course.

The next buildings on the way were the main offices and printing rooms of the local newspaper "Solothuner Zeitung", printers being Vogt-Schild

There was even a local train just going past, the service going through the Jura with end station Délémont or Moutier.

After leaving the railway lines I arrived at a large square which was built some two years ago complete with restaurant and some office blocks. As it was Sunday the restaurant was closed so there was no chance of refreshment on the way.

There are a few shops in this part of the town and here is a view of the main road, naturally very quiet as everything was closed.

Eventually I arrived at the entrace to the parking house, tired but happy, and made my way home, my handbag containing a fresh loaf of bread.

How thankful my family was to see that I had arrived safely and that our evening meal would be complete with the daily bread. There were some comments about why it took so long, but I decided if I was going on a unwished for car trip I would make the most of it and take a few photos on the way. I did get a few strange looks from the few passers-bye in town. And here a last photo of the entrace to the parking house to show how my journey was succesfully completed.

Nursery Web Spiders in my Garden

It seems that my Pampas grass has a new lodger. I suddenly noticed spider's webs, about 3 of them, and at a closer look the photo shows who was living in the webs. I knew that it must be a mother spider with her egg, but was not exactly sure what was going on so had a quick look in the insect book. It seems that I have a very motherly spider in my garden, even their name does them credit. I took a few photos of them and here are the results. I think the photos speak for themselves.

The mother apparently lays her eggs and keeps them in the big white ball, known as egg sac. She then sits and waits until the time comes when the sac breaks and her babies appear. I felt like the spiders nurse in the last couple of days and had to see what was going on from time to time. I usually water the garden in the evening if we have high temperatures as we have had for the last week, but as I had a waiting mother on the pampas, I did avoid going too strongly with the water jet. Although we had a couple of heavy thunderstorms it seems that even the web was built strong enough to hold the mother and children.

It seems (what you can learn about insects from a book) that mummy spider is quite dominant and it is known that she eats the father after their wedding night. However, father spider can be quite sly and often turns up on the night with a dead fly for his mate to avoid a nasty end.

All is well that ends well and below you can see the photo I took of a broken egg sac and about 200 small baby spiders all waiting to make their way in the world. I was thinking if all of those spiders come through life, and half would be females, then there will be a lot of webs with egg sacs next year in my garden.

Swiss Bears

It all started about 2 years ago when a bear was once again seen in Switzerland after 100 years absence. Of course there are countries that have to avoid bears every day as they wander around the towns and make their efforts to find food in garbage cans or on the streets. Picknickers are also good victims for food hunting.

In Switzerland there is a different state of affairs. Our bears are tourists, and also tourist attractions. The last time a bear paid a visit, coach trips were organised to see the bear and mothers with children got dangerously near to see the bear and take photos. The photo above shows an example of what happened. This bear eventually left Switzerland after 2 months not before it had made a meal of a few sheep.

Today I read the following in the NZZ (Neue Zürcher Zeitung):

The Bear is Back (I think he left the last time because of the publicity he was getting – it’s just not the bear sort of thing)

Large bear seen near Zernez – further sightings on the border

In Kanton Grisons a bear has appeared again. The hunting inspector confirmed this report on Monday. Many people saw the bear on Sunday near Zernez on the border of the national park (I thought parks were there for such animals). On Whit Monday a bear had already been seen on the border, meaning that in this area 2 bears must be moving around.

The Swiss office for hunting and fishing made a very detailed report which says that from Zernez in the direction of the Ofen Pass, a bear climbed up to 2800 meters. Afterward the bear changed to a side valley.

The hunter Fadri Gottschalk from Zernez saw the bear and told the gamekeeper, Guolf Denoth. When Denoth arrived in the valley the bear had already disappeared but Denoth found a footprint in the snow and made a photo of it (after all it is not every day that a bear is walking around in Switzerland). On the following Monday the gamekeeper found no further tracks (we have clever bears, they know when to make themselves scarce). Based on the footprint Georg Brosi the chief gamekeeper of Grisons established that it was a fully grown bear.

As we are not stupid in Switzerland further investigations were made. A search was made for hair and droppings to be able to identify the bear with a DNA analysis. I mean you have to know where the bear has come from. The last one that found his way into Switzerland 2 years ago apparently took a walk from Slovenia. The authorities also want to take steps to protect the sheep which often graze in this part of Switzerland.

It is assumed that the immigrant bear is a shy animal (unless he meets a few sheep on the way) and probably comes from North Italian Trentino where they are trying to resettle the bears in this area. Approximately a dozen young bears in the age from 1-2 years old are already living there. The return of this large animal of prey can be expected in this case.

At Whitsun near the Stilfserjochs, 2 kilometers from the Swiss borders a bear was seen (did he want to leave Switzerland or enter?) This was most likely the second bear.

I live North of the centre of Switzerland so the biggest animal I ever see are horses (we have a riding school nearbye) or storks, meaning I don’t have to worry about meeting a bear if I go for a walk in the nearbye forest.

The Bridge over the River Aare and other things

My family and I lived in this house on the first floor for twenty years. Our flat was on the corner and the large balcony also belonged to it, to be seen on the righthand side of the building above the green windows. There were six of us – four children and two adults. The house was built in 1930 in the old solid style. We have 4 bedrooms a large entrance hall which was used as our “dining room” and an enormous kitchen big enough to eat comfortably, but there were no “mod cons”. Water came from a boiler in the kitchen and the bathroom was a gas heater. The bath stood on four small legs (with a nice curtain that we fitted to go around it) and cooking was done by gas. All electric parts and gas tubes were over the walls, the advantage being if anything went wrong you knew where to look.

A big advantage was that the place was built fairly solid. There was a shop downstairs and our kids could make as much noise as they wanted to – no-one really heard it. We had a piano which I often played and one of my sons took up flute. We listened to a lot of music and had a few family get togethers with no problem. It was the perfect place for a larger family – we could just be ourselves.

We were situated just near the railway station of our town and were in five minutes distance from the local market and shops. Just across the street in front of our bulding was the River Aar which flowed through our town. At the time when we lived there we did not have a direct connection to the motorway Zürich-Bern-Geneva and all the traffic coming from North had to go past our building over the nearbye Röti Bridge. We had a wonderful view from our window of the river as well as this bridge. I always knew when hubby was on his way home as I saw his car waiting at the traffic lights before he arrived. A train also rain on lines over the bridge to the local railway station (I blogged once showing the train see link )

Eventually progress came to our part of the world and it was decided that our street would be re-constructed. This meant that a good half of the buildings were to be demolished and rebuilt. Our house was to remain, but it was decided that it would also be renovated. We had always had a reasonable rent, but realised that the time was coming when we were going to be modernised, like it or not, and would pay more. Under these circumstance we decided it was time to go. The children were finding their own way in life and the advatages of the flat were becoming slowly disadvantages. In the meanwhile work was being carried out on a better connection to the motorway which would positively influence the amount of traffic passing bye, but in spite of this we started looking around for something else, preferably in the country. Long story cut short, we found an ideal village just a kilometer down the road where a new area was being built. We found what we were looking for and bought our own home. The children had left or were leaving home so we were happy.

This was the view we had from our window before the building started.

And this is the view today

Now and again I take a walk into the local town of Solothurn, but not so often to the part where we lived. It is being newly developed. The new buildings in our street were built a few years ago, but more has happened. A “seminar” hotel now stands opposite our old building for business lunches and meetings and to accommodate the businessmen staying overnight in our town. Although the traffic has been reduced it was decided that the good old Röti bridge was getting too weak for its job and is now in the middle of being rebuilt.

It all started a couple of years ago as building a bridge does take time. First of all a second provisional bridge had to be built to take over from the old bridge which was demolished, this not being a very easy job as the railway lines also had to be taken into consideration. Driving from North to South in the town became a long journey as there was only one lane of traffic in each direction instead of two and the traffic lights seemed to change a lot more. Another interference was the building of the “Seminar” hotel. I mean if you are going to build something, then it is much better to do it all at once. That was probably the reason why the chief planners of the town decided it was time to build a new bridge further down the River to get the traffic even quicker onto the motorway. As this new bridge also had to have connections and the bridge that was being rebuilt also lacked in this sense, the complete road system in the town and surroundings is also being done – Since they rebuilt the Potsdam Platz in Berlin we are no longer the second biggest building site in Europe, but probably the first.

Some of you may have seen that I had some problems with my “blogging” shoulder (as a fellow blogger Sean mentioned) and I have had to go to the chiropractice to get things going again. This practice happens to find itself a stones throw from where we used to live. Hubby drove me and picked me up afterwards, so I had some time to kill with my camera which I always have with me these days and I naturally took a few pictures of what was going on.

These pictures are almost picturesque, taking from the other side of the bridge where the supports can be seen of the provisional bridge looking through the trees on the banks on the river .

And here is a slide show showing how to build a bridge

Now I am sure everyone is wondering what the new bridge in the town of Solothurn will look like - well so are we all in Solothurn as well. This photo probably gives a good idea. It will not be one of those quaint old wooden covered bridges that one find so often in Switzerland (such as in Luzern which burnt down a couple of years ago, but has now been rebuilt in the meanwhile for the tourists). The covers which resemble a sort of white giant sized sheet will probably be ceremonially removed when the bridge is finished. Solothurn does not do very much for the tourists, mainly for the business men and creating objects to keep the town planners busy and to make sure that our tax money is used up in a sensible way.

Here is a first preview of the bridge

The Export World

I have been working as an export clerk for the past 27 years. Things have changed a lot over this time. When I started everything was done by correspondence. Orders were sent by post, or made by telephone and the good old telex was used as a form of urgent communication. I am probably one of the few remaining persons that could still work with a telex today. The old machines where you made a tape punched with holes and let it run through to save time. Then the fax arrived which made the telex redundant and eventually the computer took over - need I say more. I wrote an article once for our works magazine, have now done an adaptation and this is more or less, from my point of view, what export is about today. Needless to say a big help is knowledge of foreign languages, steel nerves and a good organisation.

You arrive in the office in the morning at 7.00 o’clock. The first movement is naturally to switch on the computer. Whilst Europe is sleeping in its part of the world, other parts are working in their countries. The Australians are preparing for their evening at home, but the mails from their daily work are already on our computer. The Australians are already on their way home or to the pub for a cool Australian beer (XXX) and we are getting ready to feed the computer with their orders and prepare a consignment of goods.

Also the far east has been active during the night. Some time early in their morning somewhere in China, Japan or China the first people arrive in the office and begin their business day. They are deep in their daily work when we arrive in the office and until lunch time we know that the e-mail dialogue will take place with those countries. The questions vary – whether we can send advertising material, could we manage a special consignment for a good customer. Advertising material is usually delivered at the week-ends when the airlines make their collective flights for airfreight. And the good customer – somewhere in China a factory needs tools for a machine which has broken down. The tool is organised, a courier service called for (UPS, FEDEX, TNT or whatever) and the tool is sent to arrive within 2-3 days, although that is the actual service – it can be that the goods are kept in customs until the customer pays the duty and purchase tax to have them released.

During the afternoon one says goodbye to the far east and USA – in these countries the people are on their way home and go to bed eventually. Russia is still awake (about 2 hours difference) and it can be that they also have a few orders. With the world getting smaller, trade has developed considerably in the East European countries.

The Europeans – they are there all day. They sleep when we sleep and are awake when we are awake (although the British are a small exception, they are always one hour behind in Summer and in Winter). Since the expressions “just in time” has become fashion, we export clerks are kept wide awake and under pressure. No longer do you go to work, wait for the hours to go bye and then go home. It means that the European customers no longer have large stocks and depend on 24 hour delivery services with courier. The goods are ordered in the morning, or up to 02.00 in the afternoon, and you go home when the parcel has been picked up by a chauffeur who brings it to the next airport. All going well the customer receives the goods by lunchtime the next day. Usually by 04.30 in the afternoon the stress is over and you get down to tidying up the ends left. Documents are filed (or scanned), correspondence dealt with and customer specific problems dealt with.

Eventually the computer is switched off, the light extinguished and our evening begins, but somewhere in the world………

As Time Goes on

When I first saw this photo, taken in the office last Friday, I thought no, that cannot be me. We had the day off on Thursday for Ascension day, as did most of Europe (with the exception of the British - they have their Bank holidays) and there were only 3 of us in our department, so we made a couple of photos.

After getting over the initial shock of seeing a grey haired lady working on a computer and realising it was me, I remembered that I really do only have three years and seven months to go before I enter the eternal pension grounds. Actually originally it would have been only one year and seven months, but the Swiss voters and government decided it would be a better idea if we women all worked until we were 64 years old to save some pension money. Irrespective of our psychological and physical condition at this age we had to accept the hard facts. I said goodbye to many female colleagues as they left with a smile on their face at the age of 62 telling us "youngsters" it will go quicker than you think. Basically I have not had much time to think, although I may be in the grey ages I am still functioning as usualDespite the fact that all joints ache when you arise in the morning at six to be in time for work at seven, and things just do not seem to happen as quickly as they used to, I arrive in the office ready to go. In the last years the magnification on my glasses has increased (everyone says blame it on the computer, I blame it on my age), I managed to get tennis arm (not from playing tennis, those days are long gone, but from the computer of course) and now and again especially after lunch my thoughts go to my hubby at home - retired already for a couple of years - how he is relaxing and taking it easy for an hour or so, before he gets down to his houseman work.

Although I have become a somewhat grey eminence in the office (ask her, she has been here so long she knows how it works), I do notice that I can no longer join in conversations about where did you go on Saturday evening, I met so and so with his new girlfriend, or what about coming to the Stones concert in Zürich with me. My subjects of conversation seem more to be the price of meat, whether the local supermarket is still open when we have finished at work and did you see a certain film or sitcom on the tv yesterday evening. Luckily I do have one colleague in my office, a youngster in comparison, but in 5 years she will also be as far as I am today.

One of my reponsibilities is looking after our apprentice (probably because of the maternal advice I can offer). Actually I do get on very well with the youngsters, I just notice that their parents used to be at least 5 years old that me, today I can be glad if I am not more than five years older that they are.

Nevertheless, I can look forward to my days of retirement, doing things I always wanted to do. Going for walks, joining in with the village senior citizen gymnastic group and once a year taking part in the annual old people's excursion. I can even join a senior citizen club. In Germany they now have playgrounds for the elderly. In the newspaper Berliner Morgenpost I read an article by Bernd Philipp about playgrounds for the elderly in Germany. For those not being able to read or understand German, I did a translation

"The Playground for Senior Citizens is my oasis
Life for senior citizens can only get better and offers more and more diversications. In Preussenpark in Wilmersdorf there is the first playground for pensioners. Of course, I had to go and try it out.

Luckily no-one inspected my permit to check on my age. In any case I look a bit older and could easy seem to be a senior citizen. I have never forgot the colleagues that asked me (born 1950) “Tell me Bernd, where was you in the last days of the war? Or was you already a POW?” One way or the other one should not be resentful.

In any case at the grandmother and grandfather playground there was some very nice equipment to use for tuning up the circulation and the muscles, also for the joints. (Overheard:” my doctor said my joints are my Achilles heel”)

I quickly found contact and spoke with a few girls and boys at the playground. For example Barbara, she is 71 years old, good in form and here every day, quite early in the morning, because it is then quite empty. Then she goes with her car to the Grunewald lake to do some jogging. “Do you want to come too?” she asked me. I acted a bit bashful and told her “Actually I would like to but my mum won’t let ms go out with strange women ….”

Barbara laughed and told her two fellow gymnastic friends Regine (78 and Charlotte (81). The last of the two called to me “come again tomorrow, amusing men are always welcome.” I then said a polite goodbye and just wanted to go when a very resolute man with his camera came over to me and said “Grandad, be a nice person and go to the ladies, I am a photographer and work for various newspapers……”

Stupid as I am I did him the favour. Now I fight through the newspaper world every day and hope that I cannot be recognised on the photo. I already imagine Susi Super would react …. Something like “it is so nice for you to meet such wonderful people. Bring your new friends home ….” And if the newspaper article would appear with my photo Max would probably say “Dad you are really pitiful. Everyone is laughing at me at school - my dad at a playground.”

My son should be quiet. When I think of the tortured hours I spent with him when he was younger at the playground - a nightmare. Whilst he produced sand castles at an almost mechanical rate, only to destroy them one after the other, I was exposed to the verbal garbage of the younger mothers and fathers.

“Our Balthasar could say the alphabet backwards when he was four years old!”
“Just imagine Mechthild-Rosanna likes spinach most of all. Unbelievable. You can see she is different to the others.”
“As soon as he is 3 years old Friedrich will be in a course “English for beginners”.
“My husband was very comfortable in Irma’s crawling group. But he was the only man in the group……..”
“Our Penelope would love to have a sister. She said recently “Please no brother mum, I would throw him away” Isn’t that sweet?”

No, children’s playgrounds are not sweet. The senior playground in comparison – an oasis.

Now the insurance companies can slowly stop sending every 2 months offers for life insurance. Now I received an offer that was declared as an “Application for a life death insurance”. A life death insurance – that sounds funny, but is actually true when you think about it. The insurance company have already completed one for me. Actually I just have to pay monthly and then die. What makes me a bit nervous about this new attack from the insurance company is that on the envelope the words “express documents, to be dealt with at once” stand. What will happen next?"

A Rainy Day

Today Europe has the day off for Ascension Day - well most of it. I know Great Britain are all hard at work but most of us are at home taking it easy.

The weather forcast is always wrong, but yesterday they were right for a change. The forecast is rain, rain, rain and inbetween a little bit more rain. At least it will only rain once today. My cats have retired to quieter places, rolled up into a feline circle and have been sleeping for the past two hours. Outside the garden is wet. We don't even have a daily local newspaper to read. I don't intend going anywhere so it looks like it is just me, my computer and a few other odd jobs I have been meaning to do since Christmas. So, spending the day as a housewife, for a change, I will now make my way to the temple of creation (the kitchen) and see what "le choix de la frigidaire" has to offer today.

In the meanwhile I decided to find some suitable music for the day and who could be better than Tom Waits, one of my favourites. The living example of how you can drink, smoke, generally enjoy life and being muscial as well (if you don't mind a smoky voice). I have most of his songs on CD, but found this nice little video - for those who do not like Tom Waits (doesn't seem possible) it is only a short one

A quiet life in the country

About ten years ago when the kids were no longer kids and standing on their own feet (more or less) we decided it was time to quit town life, near to the schools and shops and move out into the green belt of our local market town. Actually it is only about a kilometer down the road, but no busy roads, waking up to the song of the birds in the morning and being integrated into village life.

All these things are true and we really enjoyed our first 1-2 years of living in the green. The estate where we bought our home was new and we knew it would be devloped over the years. When we arrived we had a view similar to the photo above, although the lawns and hedges were then actually a maize field stretching to the trees with a clear view of our local cathederal, the St. Urs in the town of Solothurn.

One fine day a group of white collar men were seen standing where the maize field was (it was Autumn and it had been cut down) with paperwork in their hands and a day later a small work troup arrived and pounded poles into the ground. As every Swiss citizen knows, these poles represent the outline of something that will be built within a few months (of course, not being any objections raised). These poles seemed very near to our home. Although we knew we would one day be expanded, we did not really expect it so soon. There were some neighbours that became shocked to the extent that meetings were called and objections raised, but with no positive results. The bulding lords had the law on their side and within a few months the construction people arrived and a large pit was made opposite our garden. There soon followed a few more pits and 2 years later we were a settlement with many neighbours.

The appartments are all bought appartments and basically the neighbours are mostly in our age group (sort of the interesting age as my son says???) and we get on very well together. There are a few families with children and most of us have cats. We are very happy living here and despite being the second largest building site in Europe (next to the Potsdamerplatz in Berlin where at the time the new government buildings were being constructed), we accepted all the alterations with patience, although groups of neighbours moved out as they thought they would remain alone (after all the building group did tell us they were going to build further).

We have now been living here almost ten years. The wide open spaces have been reduced, but instead of a maize field we now have lawns, flower beds, trees and shrubs and a farmer that even lets his cows graze once a year on a field around the corner. My cats have got used to the area. When they have had enough of our settlement they take a walk over the field and visit the gardens of a villa nearbye belonging to a rich industrial family. Probably the lawns are more cat friendly.

We think they have now reached the final stages of the architectural attack on the landscape. The last row of flats are being built. The flats are much larger, 5-6 rooms covering one floor the quality being almost in the luxury class, the only thing missing being the indoor swimming pool in the basement. As far as the prices are concerned, we are sure that there will be no families with children moving in as they probably would not be able to afford it. At the moment we are surrounded by doctors, lawyers, dentists and the new flats will probably be very similar. The advantage of the new buildings is that we are now completely cut off from the main road as they have been built on the edge of the area. The biggest problem for most people is that the new flats have been built - oh shock - one storey higher that all the other blocks. Objections were raised, disputes were inflamed, but against the Swiss building laws nothing could be done. It was all in vain and within the next 2-3 months the first inhabitants will be moving in.

Basically it is quite good for us all. The more the merrier and by being in the luxury class it means more taxes will be paid in our village keeping the level of taxes to a minimum. Our cats have got used to the new buildings already and regard them as a sort of adventure playground at the moment, although they too will have to go back to playing in the garden of the nearbye villa when they are inhabited.

At the moment the new flats look more like a modern art work from Christo, especially when it gets windy and part of the coverings tend to flap in the air. I made a few photos last week-end.

One thing is definitely sure, there will be no further building on our side as there is no space left. However, on the other side there is still room, but we can rest assured that here will also come to a stop one day. Either the farmer refuses to give his land, or the River Aar will refuse to dry up.

What's going on in the garden

My Wisteria

It is now mid May and a lot has been happening. We had some almost Summer weather until about a week ago and since more rain and what we call here "grey in grey". Before the rainy season arrived my wisteria managed to flower. It grows on metal wires running the length of the home. We bought it about 8 years ago and have found out since that it is the Japanese variety. Apparently they go round in the other direction to the Chinese sort. As we had such a mild Winter - only really one big snowfall and almost no frost - it was quite early this year and flowered wonderfully as you can see in the photos. That is the advatage.

Disadvantages of Wisteria are more. It starts when the flowers are finished. They drop off. If you are lucky and it does not rain you can sweep them up and throw them away. If the rain comes, then you have to scrap the sludgy dead flowers off the ground. Second disadvantage is the Summer months. Our Wisteria feels very happy where he is but starts going on investigations which means growing up the neighbours balcony upstairs and over the entrance. My neighbour thinks it very pretty but I told her to cut it away. Unfortunately Wisteria has a habit of strangling anything that comes in its way including the metal supports of the upstairs balcony. Next disadvantage is when you have to put the light on in the rooms opposite on a sunny summer day as the wisteria blocks the light coming through the window.

Last Summer hubby gave it a short back and sides. We cut it down quite radically. Almost too much as it seems we cut stalks we should not have cut. Have no fear, wisteria compensates and by Autumn he was back to where he was before the haircut. Last disadvantage is that it looses its leaves in Autumn. This means two months of sweeping the leaves up and hoping they do not get wet in the meanwhile.

The clematis flowered once again this year. It is the alpine sort, small flowers, but makes a nice leafy show when the flowers are gone. Over the past two years it did not really want to flower, but another sign of a mild Winter this year and it flowered again.

Judging by the visitors we have had to the blackberries this year, it looks like it will be a fruitful year. The little green blackberries are already showing. The bees seemed to really enjoy their visits to this part of the garden.

Whilst all the flowering and animal action was taking place on the sunny side of the garden, my hostas started growing in their shady places. They are handy plants, covering ground and also have a flower show during their growing phase. At the moment I am leaving the garden to itself a bit. It is rainy which means I do not have to bother too much with watering. Just sprinkle a few snail corns now and again to keep them under control.

My cats like the garden especially as they always find something interesting in the earth or between the bushes. Tabby seems to be wondering what to do next.

Down the Lane

By down the Lane, I mean Brick Lane in the East End of London, old borough of Bethnal Green today known as Tower Hamlets. Brick Lane starts in Bethnal Green Road and eventually leads to Petticoat Lane which is generally well known as the Sunday morning market of the East Enders.

Today there is not very much left of the East End cockneys in this market. Colourful stands with goods from Asia, the main immigrant population of today being from Bangla Desh. Smells of Indian curry and associated food waft along the streets. The book "Brick Lane" by Monica Ali has also made the area well-known. By the original local cockneys the book is looked upon with dissaproval. I have read the book and find a very good description of how a Bangla Desh girl has to leave her country and arrives in the East End of London to live with a husband and environment she does not know anything about. Nothing really to do with the East End, but with the problems of immigrants - so is the book intended as the result is very good.

I am now going back to the 1950's/60's when I was around 8-15 years old and still living in the area. The reason I lived here was probably based on my mother's family whose grandmother was a Huguenot descendent. The Huguenots arrived in England in the 17th century due to religious persecution in France (they were protestants, France was catholic) and one of these refugees (my ggg grandfather approximately, settled in the East End of London). Ok, this great grandmother was the child of a Huguenot and a lady from Norfolk. Thus my grandfather was born in the East end (Hoggerston to be exact) and my mum's family all grew up in Bethnal Green.

Back to Brick Lane. On Sunday morning there was the famous market. On Sunday my mum was occupied with cooking the Sunday dinner. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with baked potatoes for example followed by apple pie and custard (not every Sunday but this was the usual). To let her get on with this task in peace and quiet it was my dad's duty to take his little girl out (me). Where did we go - down the Lane. Hand in hand we walked down the Bethnal Green road and turned the corner Bethnal Green Road/Brick Lane and there we were. In the middle of crowds bustling with activity, buyers and sellers all collected around the various stalls. As a kid it made quite an impression on me. At the beginning of the lane there was a Jewish bakers (the Jewish immigrants came at the beginning of the 20th century and settled in and around the Lane). We walked past the bakers - on the way back we would buy a few bagels for Sunday evening tea.

Further down the Lane we came to stalls where records were being sold. The CD and even LP records did not exist in the 50's/60's. The records were 78 rpm. My dad loved these stalls. He could search for a few old memories on the records - I remember 4 for a bob (a shilling) or 2 bob according to the condition and who it was. Harry James, Woody Hermann, Mugsy Spanier, Rox Fox, Cab Calloway, just to name a few. Anything old jazz was my dad's taste and his eyes would sparkle when he found such a gem. I used to have my money's worth as well although the only record I remember buying after so many years was "I taught I taw a puddy cat" by Mel Blanc which I often used to listen to on Children's favourites on the Saturday morning radio brought by Uncle Mac.

After our visit to the records it was my turn and we moved on to the comic shop. This was a little shop in the Lane, the door being permanently open in the entrance four or five special tables each one full of comics. I was always allowed to pick 4 (4 for 2 bob - very reasonable). I always took a Superman, a Roy Rogers and something from Space. My fourth choice was a Classics Illustrated. I was always a great reader and I just loved books. Although the Classics Illustrated was not the original as a 10 year old I had a simplified way of knowing what the great authors wrote. When I visited my 91 year old dad in London last year he told me that it was a shame we didn't keep the comics, especially the Classics Illustrated. He read that today they were worth quite a bit of money.

Our journey down the Lane usually started around 10 o'clock in the morning and around 11 o'clock we would get a bit thirsty. Dad always looked after me first and we would stop at one of the stools selling drinks. There were sort of bottles in a contraption hanging upside down of all colours. My favourite was sarsparilla. I think it was brown and probably the fore runner of Coca cola. It was not the taste so much, but you were drinking something like beer (although no alcohol). Who knows what was in it and today it would probably be banned through some sort of health laws.

Food was also available and I was always treated to an Italian ice cream - they were just the best, bought from a cart. The ice cream had bits of ice in it and you could get vanilla, strawberry or pistachio. Nothing fancy with all sorts of designer names like today. Frankfurters were also sold. A sort of dark red sausage pulled out of hot water and put in a roll with mustard. This was forbidden. Mum was very strict about them. She found they were not good for you, you didn't know what they were made of and you would get all sorts of strange illnesses if you ate one. I always wanted one, but mum's word was law and dad did not buy me one. I can remember the smell of them even today.

I can also remember the sales men selling crockery. They would have their plates, cups and saucers and there was one show on the street when they were trying to sell their goods. The salesmen were artists. They would throw the crockery into the air and catch it again, without anything being broken. You could also buy pots and pans. We had some at home, but I didn't like them. Mum and dad thought it was a wonderful bargain, they were made of aluminium, but I always found that the food cooked in them tasted of aluminium as well. They were the good old days where you saved where you could but we all survived.

Before finishing our tour of the Lane we went through the Pet Market. I don't know whether the film A Kid for Two Farthings is known - I have a copy at home. It was made in 1955 based on life in Brick Lane and the little boy in the film bought a kid goat from a man in the Lane. The Pet Market in Club Row existed when I was a kid. People with their animals just stood there, their dog on a lead, chickens in a cage or cats in a box. Probably their stray at home had had youngsters and they wanted to earn some money by selling them. Of course me being an animal lover, wanted a puppy, a kitten and even a little chick. Even white mice or a rat would have been ok. Poor dad had to explain that we just could not take one home. We did not have the room and my mum was frightened of mice and rats so that was that. Club Row was just near the arches of Bishopsgate Goods Station which burnt down some time in the 60's. If you walked through the arch you would arrive in Commercial Road - Jack the Ripper country.

Our visit to the market was finished and we turned back into the Bethnal Green Road, not forgetting to buy our Bagels at the Jewish bakers. The next stop was the pub. We always went to the same pub. It had a long entrance with benches outside where dad could get his pint, I had my cream soda and we could sit together. The entrance to the pub had mosaic on the wall and I remember the picture in mosaic of old Bethnal Green in the days when it was fields and farms.

On the way down the Bethnal Green Road there were many stalls selling Prawns, Shrimps, Cockles and Winkles - sea food brought in from the surrounding London ports. They were not sold in weight, but in liquid weights - pints etc measured in enamel mugs. We always bought some for our Sunday evening tea (to eat with the bagels). At that time there was no health issue in eating them, but today with the state of the local water, no-one really bothers to buy them.

Eventually we arrived home (sort of tired but happy). Dinner was never served before 2 o'clock on Sunday so we did not have to rush. Looking back, childhood in the East End was something I am glad I had. They are memories and events that will never repeat themselves. It was London after the war, Most of the new buildings did not exist and half of Bethnal Green road was ruins of the places bombed in the war. It was just my London.

I found this photo on Internet showing the corner of Bethnal Green Road/Brick Lane. My Jewish bakers doesn't seem to exist any more - it just belongs to the past.

Unwanted Visitors in the Garden

This is not an essay on the life of snails and how they develop. This is based on my own experiences made in my garden. For detailed biological details I am sure there is enough on Google to satisfy the inquisitive.

Now this little man/women in the photo (they are both) I photographed at the beginning of a rainy week-end in the garden. Up to then we had fantastic pre Summer weather and not a slug in sight. Who knows where they were, but I just read that when they lay their eggs the eggs can remain a couple of years in the ground until they decide to hatch. I was not very happy at seeing this slimy creature, as where there is one, there are usually a couple of hundred more dispersed around the garden.

I decided to take action and found a half full packet of snail corns left from last year which I distributed in strategic places in the garden. I am really an animal lover and I know that each insect has a purpose in his insect life, but I am not to keen when the slugs find the purpose being to bring his knife and fork with him for a layed table during the night. They are especially keen on marigolds and lupins of which I have both in the garden. Although I think they seem to be keen on anything that has a green leaf.

The tragic end came the next morning when my garden was full of slugs which had had their last meal on a snail corn. Readers, do not despair, the next day there were another few hundred ready to eat what was left on the plants. At the moment I seem to be winning the fight. Not even do my cats help me as they do not like having sticky paws. By the way I found that slugs like most of all the dried food pellets that my cats eat. A lesson to be learnt - if you have outdoor cats do not leave a bowl of cat pellets out for them to eat as the snails will get them first.

Not all snails are enemies of the gardener. I took the following photos last week when it was still quite warm and dry.

These snails bring their own house with them and are quite harmless for the gardener. They feed on plants that we would not consider being worth having in the garden. To a certain extent they are quite useful. In this case let the snails with the shells live. I found this sort is known as the Banded White Lip Snail. It is the only kind I have found in my garden with a house up to now. They seem to be content to sit on my blackberry stalks and watched the insect world go by.

And with a photo of a snail group I will come to an end.