I am sure this tableau says it all. The daily
prompt has arrived whilst I was enjoying my daily lafter lunch sleep, enabling
the food to digest and sailing away to another dimension on a darker level.
We will begin at the beginning, the top of this masterpiece. The cobwebs are present, clouding a clear thought process, and there are some forks of lightening. This is easy to explain. The pains of a golden oldie tend to collect during the sleep phases and are quite concentrated when awakening. First of all there is an inspection tour to be made Am I still breathing? Can I move and is my brain functioning? It is often the case that a double inspection has to be made as the thoughts are still disturbed by various aches and pains caused by the fact that age is creeping up on you: slowly and stealthily. These problems reach their peak in the waking phase, but no worry. It is a regular occurrence and the body adjusts.
Somewhere in the distance a cloud approaches casting a shadow and it appears that everything is under a layer of fog. This is normal, I do not worry, I just find a better position in my nest to relieve any remainders of cramp that are still present. Of course this complete process is beneath a muddling blanket, its forks spreading over the complete picture and preventing a clear state of mind. The cloud has a silver lining so it is not irrevocable.
In the meanwhile the sounds of life are filtering into your ears. You can hear a feline meow and feel a rhythmic up and down of paws, a kneading motion, on the bedclothes. During your golden oldie sleep you are not alone. Tabby has arrived and noticed that his slave is relaxing. There are times when Tabby mistakes his human slave for his mother. I can excuse this as felines are generally short sighted. I do not have whiskers or large pointed ears, but it might be that Isnore purr in my sleep which brings memories of a mother cat
tending to her brood. Eventually Tabby falls into a feline state of sleep,
which is neither awake or slumber: somewhere in the middle, always ready in
case there is a change in the human pattern of sleep and if a danger approaches.
The postman only rings twice as we all know.
Now a precarious moment is approaching. My thoughts roam to a question, shall I or shall I not? I mean arise. This has to be considered. It might be a shock to my system. Primarily I sit on the edge of the bed and if I survive I arise, and stand in a vertical position. In the meanwhile Tabby the feline has decided to leave in case I might tread on her tail in my state of uncertainty.
As my painting shows, the trees are now clearer, which symbolises objects in the room. I grasp for my iPhone next to the bed and am confronted with a blurred screen. This is possible if I forget to wear my glasses. I grope for my spectacles and turn again to my iPhone. I switch the phone to receiving. During my golden oldie sleep it is programmed for flight mode. Figuratively speaking this is not so wrong. I often take a flight in my sleep, and it has been known that I have almost fallen out of the bed. Flight mode on the iPhone means that if someone somewhere wants to speak with you, they cannot, they are blocked and I do not hear them: a perfect setting for a telephone. In the meanwhile Mr. Swiss has switched the main line telephone into oblivion and all our friends and neighbours have been warned that Mr. and Mrs. Angloswiss are not available for two hours after lunch.
And now you can see the golden sun slowly rising at the bottom of my creation; my state of consciousness is returning, I am almost there. I stand on wobbly legs and move towards the bedroom door. Everything is in its normal place. I take my lap top and place it either on the kitchen table or outside on the patio table according to how the weather is. If the staff at WordPress have not had a rip-roaring party the night before, a daily prompt will be waiting.Of course, there are afternoons when the laptop takes second place and they let me out for a visit in town.
Such is the midday painting of Angloswiss . It might be, of course, that I wake in a bad mood, something has disturbed my golden oldie sleep and then the painting resembles more “The Picture of Dorian Grey” that changes with the moods of the subject, consult Oscar Wilde, he wrote the book.
We will begin at the beginning, the top of this masterpiece. The cobwebs are present, clouding a clear thought process, and there are some forks of lightening. This is easy to explain. The pains of a golden oldie tend to collect during the sleep phases and are quite concentrated when awakening. First of all there is an inspection tour to be made Am I still breathing? Can I move and is my brain functioning? It is often the case that a double inspection has to be made as the thoughts are still disturbed by various aches and pains caused by the fact that age is creeping up on you: slowly and stealthily. These problems reach their peak in the waking phase, but no worry. It is a regular occurrence and the body adjusts.
Somewhere in the distance a cloud approaches casting a shadow and it appears that everything is under a layer of fog. This is normal, I do not worry, I just find a better position in my nest to relieve any remainders of cramp that are still present. Of course this complete process is beneath a muddling blanket, its forks spreading over the complete picture and preventing a clear state of mind. The cloud has a silver lining so it is not irrevocable.
In the meanwhile the sounds of life are filtering into your ears. You can hear a feline meow and feel a rhythmic up and down of paws, a kneading motion, on the bedclothes. During your golden oldie sleep you are not alone. Tabby has arrived and noticed that his slave is relaxing. There are times when Tabby mistakes his human slave for his mother. I can excuse this as felines are generally short sighted. I do not have whiskers or large pointed ears, but it might be that I
Now a precarious moment is approaching. My thoughts roam to a question, shall I or shall I not? I mean arise. This has to be considered. It might be a shock to my system. Primarily I sit on the edge of the bed and if I survive I arise, and stand in a vertical position. In the meanwhile Tabby the feline has decided to leave in case I might tread on her tail in my state of uncertainty.
As my painting shows, the trees are now clearer, which symbolises objects in the room. I grasp for my iPhone next to the bed and am confronted with a blurred screen. This is possible if I forget to wear my glasses. I grope for my spectacles and turn again to my iPhone. I switch the phone to receiving. During my golden oldie sleep it is programmed for flight mode. Figuratively speaking this is not so wrong. I often take a flight in my sleep, and it has been known that I have almost fallen out of the bed. Flight mode on the iPhone means that if someone somewhere wants to speak with you, they cannot, they are blocked and I do not hear them: a perfect setting for a telephone. In the meanwhile Mr. Swiss has switched the main line telephone into oblivion and all our friends and neighbours have been warned that Mr. and Mrs. Angloswiss are not available for two hours after lunch.
And now you can see the golden sun slowly rising at the bottom of my creation; my state of consciousness is returning, I am almost there. I stand on wobbly legs and move towards the bedroom door. Everything is in its normal place. I take my lap top and place it either on the kitchen table or outside on the patio table according to how the weather is. If the staff at WordPress have not had a rip-roaring party the night before, a daily prompt will be waiting.Of course, there are afternoons when the laptop takes second place and they let me out for a visit in town.
Such is the midday painting of Angloswiss . It might be, of course, that I wake in a bad mood, something has disturbed my golden oldie sleep and then the painting resembles more “The Picture of Dorian Grey” that changes with the moods of the subject, consult Oscar Wilde, he wrote the book.
With the way things are with my job at the moment, I think mine would resemble Edvard Munch's 'The Scream' LOL.
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