Topic Generator: Troubled Estate

Not that i was in a troubled state of mind when I was ascending the steps to the top of the slope on the way home from one of those marathon afternoon walks. I was just glad to b able to do it at my golden oldie age. I do not know how many steps there are, when your joints creak and you are reminded of extremities that had been forgotten over the years, you are just glad that you can still do it. Mr. Swiss was ahead, as usual and I saw him armed with his mobile telephone pointing at everything, except me.

“You could take a photo of me showing how fit I am for a golden oldie.”

“Ok, then smile and look at me.”

This was easier said than one because I did not feel like smiling and if I had to stand still, there was a possibility that I would definitely lose my balance and perhaps arrive at the bottom of the steps with a few broken limbs and bruises. I gripped the wooden support and smiled for the camera hoping that it would all be done with in a few minutes.

I had been one of those “let’s walk along the river” afternoons where I was taking photos and Mr. Swiss was walking on heedless of me.

Now that would be a good shot, a field of leaves which had left the trees, but there was a problem. I really did not want a photo collection including a figure of Mr. Swiss on all of them. He was always walking ahead and so I had to wait until he had turned a corner and was out of sight. In the meanwhile I was overtaken by a cyclist and two runners, which prolonged the wait. Eventually I continued.

I turned the corner and discovered a waiting Mr. Swiss I decided that the next photo would be across the river so I did not have to tell Mr. Swiss to move out of the picture. By this time he had found a comfortable place on a bench, so I joined him.

I think the only trouble on this estate of river landscapes was myself  that noticed the golden sun had decided to sink a little further in the West and we should make our way home. Even the ducks ad swans had disappeared.

We climbed up the many steps for the homeward run/walk (my first photo). I then cast a glance in the distance and what did I see? If the air is clear you cannot escape them. They remain where they are, a Swiss photographer’s delight, yes, the Bernese Alps towards the South.

And now it was really the path towards home. It was then I heard a noise, a loud noise, something was approaching over the path. It then appeared. Yes, is was Mr. Flury, the village factotum doing his rounds to ensure that the cows and sheep were safe and that the grass stalks were all in their rightful place and there were no lonesome hikers that had lost themselves stopping to take photos on the way. Mr. Flury is a very important person in our village. He is ever present when taking a walk and everyone knows him.

I cast a look at our destination, perched on top of the hilly banks of the river. It would not be far now. I could already visualise my nice comfortable armchair, my slippers and my home dress waiting for my tired and weary body to relax. Mr. Swiss was naturally already home as I approached our front door. Yes, the troubled estate of my body, feet and other weary parts would soon be laid to rest. No, not quite. I would have to upload my numerous photographic trophies from my walk onto the computer. 

On the banks of the River Aar

Spring has arrived, there is no longer cold freezing temperatures and the sun is shining. It is time to go.

We live in the country, but thankfully only a half hour walk from the nearest market town. Behind us there are mountains, the first row of the seven rows of the Jura mountain chain. We are surrounded by forests, our neighbours are horses and as time progresses, there will be cows in the field. Only yesterday I saw a farmer showing his herd that outside there is the green, green grass of home waiting to be munched. The cows all followed his words, nodded and then he lead them back to the stalls. This was only a preliminary visit. The real thing will arrive probably during the next couple of weeks. There was quite a mooing going on afterwards, you could hear it all over the village.

“What do you think Daisy, is it dangerous outside?”

“No of course not. This must be your first summer. Just follow your nose. No more hay, the real thing.”

“What about emptying the udder?”

“You ask silly questions Daisy. It will be back to the milking shed but afterwards you can stay outside all day and night when the weather gets better. Even no problem with the re-cycling process?”

“You mean ….”

“Yes, just drop it when you feel like it, the flies will thank you for it. No place better as a home for the flies.”

I decided to move on to the River. Yes, we have everything, the River Aar meanders from somewhere in the middle of Switzerland, through the town of Bern and eventually reaches Solothurn, my area. At the end of its journey it disappears into a couple of Swiss Lakes - Biel and Neufchatel. Walking along the river is one of the pastimes of the local population, which is where I took the photo. It is amazing the tricks that light play on the surface of the water and the shadows of the neighbouring trees on the banks of the River were caught in a perfect silhouette. The River Aar is fairly clean, we have fish and yes, you can take a swim if you are a good enough swimmer. The banks are quite shallow, but in the middle it is deep enough. I am not one of the swimmers, but I know a few who are. It’s free, and I suppose healthy.

There are boats on the river, and if you are lucky you have a mooring place for your boat, although these are few and far between. There is a long waiting list for a mooring place. Otherwise you have to drag it down to the river from its parking place.

How do I get there? Just five minutes walk down a sloping path and I arrive at the river. Sometimes I even have family duck taking a walk across my garden, the mother duck proudly showing her babies how the humans live.

Ghostwriter and Bits and Pieces

If you could have any author –living or dead – write your biography, who would you choose?

I chose my ghostwriter, or she chose me, two years ago, my feline Nera. Since she has gone to the eternal corn chambers and I will be 69 years old end of this year, so ghostwriters are no longer my thing. It is a shame that Lewis Carroll is no longer with us, he would have painted a wonderful Jabberwocky picture of my life in the way with borogroves, bandersnatch, all put together with a vorpal sword, but unfortunately it is no longer possible, so I will now dwell in the world of the slithy toves and write on regardless.

Let us begin with another one of my prize suspicious photos I took on a walk along the river banks of the Aar. I believe there is a swan somewhere on the river, but she preferred to remain incognito, I believe she had a date somewhere with another swan, after all it is Spring and the promise of cygnets is in the air..

We are still walking, Mr. Swiss and I, and today our afternoon journey continued up and down over fields and threading our way through trees which had been planted in the wrong places some one hundred years ago. We avoided cemeteries today and decided to stay in the land of the living. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s report with illustrations if we survive.

This morning I again ventured on a shopping trip to the supermarket. Mr. Swiss had business to complete at the post office, so I began the shopping alone. Eventually he arrived at the shop some time later, rather annoyed. He only had a registered parcel to send, but it seemed there was a meeting of golden oldies at the post office that had problems, and they were all there before Mr. Swiss. He was not the first in the queue. There was one lady that was paying her monthly bills. Unfortunately this lady did not have a computer where she could do it from her home office online. She had written all the details in her official post office book and it seems her monthly bills amounted to five thousand swiss francs. This would not have been a problem but she was slightly annoyed.

“Why do I have to pay an extra amount on top of my bills?”

“Because you are paying manually.”

“But that is not correct. I have entered all the amounts by hand separately and I have to pay more?”

The lady in the post office was annoyed and the lady behind the counter was becoming impatient and Mr. Swiss had to wait until this disagreement had been solved. The lady paying did not get away with it  and had to pay the extra and so 5-10 minutes passed. In the meanwhile another customer had a problem with her post office account, although Mr. Swiss did not really listen to the sordid details.

“You mean that I cannot do it that way?”

“No madam, but we can organise it for you.”

“Then I will have to ask my husband, but he is not around during the day because he is working. It has to be done by Saturday. Can I come back then?”

“Of course, but that is the last chance to make the arrangements.”

And the lady left. Whatever it was that had to been done by Saturday Mr. Swiss did not know and he did not care. It was now his turn. He found the person behind the counter not very polite and friendly, but I suppose if you have to handle customers that do not like the post office way of dealing with things, then he would get a little short tempered.I was relieved when Mr. Swiss arrived. It could have been that there was a hold-up at the post office Wells Fargo style.

I will now leave you with some flowers I photographed on the river bank. I do not know what they are, but Wikipedia tells me they are white buttercups. In any case they seem to be the first flowers along the river to show their faces.

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