WordPress Daily Prompt: Object Lesson

Sherlock Holmes had his pipe. Dorothy had her red shoes. Batman had his Batmobile. If we asked your friends what object they most immediately associate with you, what would they answer?

This was a stress prompt. I was rushing around collecting everything associated with me. Unfortunately I could not find my blog of the year Pulitzer prize. It would be one of the objects to associate with me, but it must have got lost in the post. My WordPress t-shirt would have completed the arrangement, but there seems to be a problem with size XXL. I am sure this prompt will be repeated sometime in the near distant future. I had to use my smaller camera  to take the photo as my Nikon camera was on the photo.

I always have a camera with me. You never know – my big break might arrive and I would shoot the picture of the year in the local supermarket. “Disappointed customer strangles butcher as her favourite sausage was not on sale” or “Last packet of special super Totally Clean washing powder sold – customers ransack the store emptying coca cola bottles on the shelves”. They would be the photos to remember. I wanted to put Mr. Swiss on the photo, as he is really an object to be associated with me but he is busy watching the Tour de France bicycle race on the TV. It only takes place once a year, usually in summer. I do not know what the attraction is? I like to watch it and see those lovely muscular cyclist legs peddling away through the nice French landscapes, but I think his interest is more in the sporty line of things like speed, technique and all sorts of man things.

Let us move to the lovely blue handbag. “Look Mrs. Angloswiss is coming, the lady with the bright blue handbag” you hear from all my friends. My bright blue handbag is a trade mark, although I am not really the handbag type and prefer to stash my valuable belongings in my pockets. Unfortunately the summer dress, trousers or whatever has not yet been made with enough pockets to accommodate everything I take with me. My Nikon camera would be too big for a handbag. I thus have a smaller version. Many are the times when Mr. Swiss has lost me on a shopping expedition or visit in town because I make a photo stop. He knows the routine, retraces his steps and finds me perhaps squatting in a corner fixing the angle of my super shot. These things cannot be achieved in two seconds, I need more time. I have tried to explain this to Mr. Swiss, but he finds I should concentrate on the importance of the excursion and not risk an accident by precariously positioning myself for the shot of the day and continuously being lost. He just has no understanding for my artistic, creative vein.

Back to the handbag, I love this handbag. I accompanied my daughter-step when she was choosing goods for her boutique. “Mummy you must have that bag”, “Oh no, but do you think so?” “Of course” and she put it together with the pile of boutique clothes selection that she had chosen. She gave it to me as a present and I have used it since during the summer months when I have no large accommodating pockets in the jeans or winter jacket. I have grown to love that bag and I never seem to forget it. “Where’s my bag” and then my eye spots it shining in its bluest blue. You never lose a bright blue handbag. Since having this bag, I choose my clothes to match the bag, although actually everything suits the bag. I am a blue person at heart.

What else is on this wonderful patio table, which is large enough to seat five people. I can even extend it for a dinner party to accommodate seven guests but usually it is just I, me and myself when I am blogging outside. For meals I am joined by Mr. Swiss and son No. 1, although he is on holiday at the moment. My cats sit on the floor forcing me to share some tit bits with them. I am digressing. My computer is on the table. I do not go to bed with it as it would take up too much space, but it is otherwise always near. I check my e-mails, my Facebook page, my WordPress page, my forum page, my Google page, my LEO dictionary German-english page, but I am not addicted, by no means. If the computer is too large to rest at my side, I have my iPad to consult. Perhaps I should have included this in the photo with the WordPress t-shirt that is four sizes too small.

The whole concept of my object lesson is completed by my orchids. I love my orchids, talk to them every day and threaten them if they do not flower regularly. They are part of me. I should have included my two felines, there were three, but Nera departed for the eternal corn chambers just over the rainbow bridge and is now serving Bastet. She sent a message to say the food and accommodation is much better where she is now: no tuna fish, but plenty of meals on feet known as mice.

I am never lonely with my trade marks, the photo seems to be too small to accommodate everything. Oh I fogot the …….. 

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WordPress Daily Prompt: Finders, Keepers?

While walking on the beach you stumble on a valuable object buried in the sand — say, a piece of jewelry or an envelope full of cash. What do you do with it? Under what circumstances would you keep it?

We do not have beaches in Switzerland, at least not with an ocean to accompany it. We have lakes that have beaches and the only things that might get washed up are empty cans, bottles and food wrappers. The jewellery and money are all nicely kept in the banks.

However, we do not despair, a Swiss active pastime on holidays is hiking: walking on paths through forests, up and down mountain slopes and it might be that something is laying on the wayside waiting to be found.

Some years ago when the kids were still kids and Mr. Swiss and I were active members of the human race, we went on such holidays in the Swiss mountains. One of our favourite places was the village of Gstaad. Your might have heard of it. It is where the rich and famous spend their holidays in their luxury chalets or five star hotels and they are waited on hand and foot by the normal people. The village has quite a few shops, mainly in the exclusive line of things. If you want caviar for tea or smoked salmon for breakfast, they have it. Of course there is also a supermarket for the common people.They have shops selling exclusive watches which only the rich can buy. Curd Jürgens, Gunter Sachs, Julie Andrews, Roman Polanski are just a few of the chalet owners of Gstaad, their chalets resembling wooden palaces. I have been there and seen it all and it is a pleasant Sunday afternoon walk in the exclusive areas where the gardeners are busy attending to the gardens which resemble parks.

Of course there are normal working people, as me and the family, that spend their holiday in a rented chalet somewhere on the edge of the village that can perhaps afford the cost for two weeks. That is the situation, so what does family working class do during the day? We go for walks in the countryside, all the paths nicely marked with a yellow sign. Yellow means for the beginners. If you stumble upon a red and white marked path, then ensure that you are wearing hiking boots for a good grip, as that would be a mountain path. Basically we all wore hiking boots with nice thick comfortable socks to keep a grip, whether a footpath or mountain path.

It happened one day that family Angloswiss with two sons departed around tenish in the morning (we liked to take it easy, no six o’clock morning tours for us) and took a planned march to one of the smaller mountains. They are not all snow-capped, that is reserved for the mountaineers. On the way Mr. Swiss made an exclamation. I checked to see that he had not fallen into a crevasse in the rocks and broken his leg. This was not the case he was standing quite firmly on the ground with a watch in his hand.

“Look what I found on the path” he said “it is quite a nice watch, but not such an expensive watch” and he put it on.

“You are not planning to keep that watch, it must belong to someone” was my answer, thinking of the owner now furtively searching in the nooks and crannies of the Bernese Overland for his timepiece.

“I cannot see anyone looking for it” said Mr. Swiss. I could not believe my ears, thinking of a tired wanderer without a watch. Before I could reprimand Mr. Swiss, we heard footsteps coming closer and a family approached us with their noses turned towards the ground, obviously searching.

“Are you looking for this?” asked Mr. Swiss.

“Yes” they answered with thanks in their voices: not exactly tears in their eyes, but it was only an average watch and not exactly a Patek Philippe, Rolex or Cartier. They thanked us for finding the watch, not knowing that it almost became a holiday souvenir: after all, you can always use a new watch. You do not just throw them away and let people find them, leading them into temptation.

There was another occasion; this time also in Gstaad (yes the paths are strewn with keepsakes in this mountain village) and family Angloswiss were marching to the Launersee, and well-known lake in the area. On the way we decided to take a rest on a bench. They often plant benches on these paths for tourists dying of thirst or exhaustion. It was my turn, I found a camera on the bench. Before someone could say anything, I put it in the rucksack (another part of the tourist uniform) and told Mr. Swiss when we reach the restaurant I will ask the waitress if a customer had missed a camera. We arrived safe and sound at the restaurant: I remember there was even a Puma helicopter parked there from our army, the crew probably wanted a beer before flying further: or was it just for the tourists.

We ordered our refreshments and I told the waitress of the camera. Did she thank me, did she praise my honesty? She told me I should have left it where it was as the owner would return to find it. It was none of my business to take it with me and I was being very stupid. Oh yes, we Swiss are so logical when it comes to honesty. I was speechless (a rarity for me), but said nothing. Mr. Swiss was ready to say something, but we kept our remarks for afterwards. After returning to the village of Gstaad I called in at the police station, manned by one solitary policeman, and gave him the camera. He thanked me and took my particulars. I think he was the only policeman in Gstaad as an hour later I saw him directing the traffic on the main road.

I thought no more of this event. After a few days we returned to life in the lowlands, with some happy memories of two weeks spent in the Bernese Overland, the playground of the rich. I received a telephone call from the camera owner, praising my honesty and happy to have his views of the mountain scenery and family again. He even wanted to reward me. It is actually custom; almost law, in Switzerland to refund 10% of the value of lost property. This is something I have never claimed as I find it insulting. The man who had lost the camera showed his gratitude with some sort of gift, I think either chocolate or a bottle of wine by post.

So there you have it, the Swiss are an honest nation basically, if you find the owner of the lost property otherwise, we are just human.

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WordPress Daily Prompt: Going Obsolete

Of all the technologies that have gone extinct in your lifetime, which one do you miss the most?




A normal Swiss rubbish disposal container, the end station for all things obsolete. As I am still here writing my daily blog, I have not yet been disposed of, I am still necessary to impose my ideas and thoughts on the world, and Mr. Swiss still needs me to cook the dinner. It would not be fair to list other daily duties I take care of, as the “I” becomes a “we”. We live in a democracy, a partnership: after having established this fact that neither I nor Mr. Swiss has a wish to dispose of the partner. I now turn to the task at hand, which technology do I miss most?

I came to the conclusion that I do not miss any. I remember the old 78 rpm records, the only ones available when I was a kid. I might even have one somewhere in the cellar, but compared to a CD (which are slowly becoming obsolete) or an iPod they were not something to be mourned in passing. They did have another use. When heated you could bend them into the shape of a pot, useful for flowering plants.

I do miss the lemon tartlets my grandmother made. She passed on many years ago and took the secret to the grave with her, but they made an impression on my childhood mind. They would now be obsolete as no-one knows how she made them. She grew up in the country and did not know modern technologies, it was around the time when the railway arrived in her village, blowing steam into the countryside and polluting the atmosphere, so I do not miss the steam trains.

I do not miss the Brownie camera I have in the cellar, inherited from my mother. I grew up with this camera, shielding the little window from the light as you slid the lever and hoping that a white stripe of light would not spoil the photo. It was a box camera and patience was required until the finished photos could be picked up at the chemist’s shop. Today we have digital, everything is digital. The photos are pixilated, instantly ready for observing and load them onto the computer. Play with them in a photo programme and you have your Pulitzer prize winning photo. Poor old Ansel Adams had to apply his secret mixture of developing liquid to achieve his perfect black and white results, and in the bargain collecting some burns on his hands. So long live the digital camera.

My felines are also happy with their vitamin enriched pellet food mixture that they are served. Their dishes are always full.

“Who said that Mrs. Human?”. I was interrupted – again – by my big fat black long furred cat Nera with the sharpest claws.

“I did Nera, any objections?”

“Of course, imagine a human life where cooking became obsolete and you were served with the same dish of food every day, the only difference being the flavour. Mine arrive usually with chicken flavour. That reminds me, you never asked us felines which flavour we would prefer. According to my pawpad they are also available in beef and rabbit.”

“Oh, Nera, basically they all look the same.”

“Yes Mrs. Human and also taste the same, So imagine sitting at the human dining table and daily crunching away on hamburger pellets, or roast chicken pellets.”

“Nera, you cannot compare human food to feline food. We have different needs.”

“Exactly, so what about our feline needs for a fresh tuna fish dinner garnished with caviar, or chicken breasts with a pinch of tarragon. No, we felines have to do with vitamin filled dried pellets. They are not as pleasant in a hairball moment to recycle as genuine meat and fish. I think I will report you to the RSPCC (Royal society for prevention to cruelty to cats).”

“Forget it Nera, clinically prepared pellets are now the thing, and all other food items are gradually becoming obsolete in our house.”

“Correction Mrs. Human: “in our territory” so what arrives on our special feline dishes is determined by us felines, we were here first – think of the Egyptian corn chambers running alive with real mice. You should be ashamed of yourself Mrs. Human”.

She walked off swishing her long black furry tail and I was still trying to work out what that was all about: made a note on my shopping list “two tins of tuna fish”, just to be on the safe side. 

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The Camera

My dad always has a surprise somewhere. He lives in London and I live in Switzerland so we mostly communicate by phone - Skype actually because it's cheaper for me. A year ago he asked me if I was interested in some old books his father had bought, so I arranged a transport of forty kilo of books from England to Switzerland. See blog.

This time he asked me if I was interested in an old camera he found at home. I asked what camera and he told me mum got it sometime before the war. I was naturally wide awake with visions of a rare object in the family. He said he would send it over, but never did get around to it and I forgot our conversation. About 2 weeks ago I was on my annual visit to the old country and my dad said he still has the camera if I am still interested. I was of course and the photo shows the camera that is now in my possession. Before going any further - no, I am not a millionaire and do not have a camera that is the only one in the world. However, I am now the proud owner of a Brownie box camera which goes under the name of Hawkeye star and probably came out in the 1930's.

I do actually remember my mum taking photos with this camera as well as myself when I was a kid. It doesn't have a glass window to look through but a small square lined with glass to catch the reflection of what you take, or something like that. My knowledge of cameras is now completely digital so I don't know how the old ones worked. There is a lever on the lefthand side top at the front which covers the lense with glass when pushed down, and a lever on the righthand side of the camera which is either in an upward or downward position. This seems to move something in the lense. I am sure anyone reading this might be trying to tell me what it is all for. At the side there seems to be a wheel for turning the film.

I have quite a large collection of old black and white photos from my mum and dad before and after the war which were definitely taken with this camera. I was surprised at the perfect condition the camera is in, although the case now looks like it has seen better days.

I just wonder what he will find the next time I am on a visit.