I can’t lick my rear…

Nor do I wish to, but I daily admire the ability of my two cats to lick any part of their body!

So supple: yes some of the positions look weird, but I truly wish I had their capacity to turn my body into a pretzel. Imagine being able to bite that itch in the middle of one’s back, or

to inspect a spot on the back of one’s thigh. The only place they have to actually use a paw to reach is their head and ears and someday I fully expect to see them simply make their tongues longer!

stray cat

A few wee years ago…

Our eldest was born on a Saturday evening after having spent Friday night asleep (there are some lucky moms in this world – I was twice – as both my sons were born on Saturday nights after daytime labor and I proceeded to sleep after their births as well).

He had all the pertinent parts, thrived and now is, in turn, a father himself.

Feet seem to be a thing in our family so instead of the usual newborn baby picture here is the one that most impressed family and friends alike and led to my insisting that his son also have his footprints taken.

All the best my son.

Utterly or Udderly?

I came back to Switzerland a long, long time ago, but it’s really my sister who loves cows.

I love the mountains, the lakes, the folklore (including cows), the paper cutting and in general most everything – so much so that I actually took the nationality.

But cows, they are something typical and somehow sacred to Swiss folklore. So many things from cows, including the cheeses for the national dishes of fondue or raclette, never mind the very-sought-after Gruyères cheese.

Once a year there is an exhibition “Swissexpo” concerning only cows. For the past 17 years it was held in Lausanne, but due to the obsolescence of the exhibition grounds there and the lack of good access, this year the International (yes, there were some 200 cows from outside of Switzerland!) fair for cows “Swissexpo” was held in Geneva.

I saw all 1’000 cows, admired them being groomed for show and duly noted all the agricultural supplies, equipment, etc. on show.  German seemed to be the main language and interestingly enough there were as many young women taking care of them as young men. I noticed that the girls seemed to work slightly harder as well so it will be interesting to see in a few years time a farm or group of cows owned and cared for only by women.

Although I didn’t take too many pictures, there were many a scene that I wouldn’t have thought of, not being a farmer myself: the dash to put a pail under the tail anytime a cow decided to produce a leak or more; the forking over of fresh hay constantly; the attention given to hair cutting (or whatever one calls it if it is an animal – not shearing as they weren’t taking all the hair off), the waxing of the udders to make them stand out more, the precise braiding or fancy cutting of the tails, etc. Truly a fascinating industry when seen close up.

One also forgets that on top of nature’s “calls” that the milk cows need to be milked.

udderly attached

 And of course there were specimens of the next generation to admire.

All in all a few hours well spent!

utterly adorable

Catching up, or

Finally having lunch with a friend of long date, but one with whom we seem to struggle these days to schedule anything. She comes and goes and I come and go and as Rudyard Kipling said about East and West “never twain shall meet”.

I don’t remember how many dates and hours we tried until today’s lunch worked – but that’s the beauty of friendship – one keeps at it until it works!

The time passed, as usual, in a flash. Lunch was delicious the talk more so.

Caught up? Not quite, but better than if we hadn’t taken those few hours.

Oops we neglected to plan the next coffee, sushi, Indian, or whatever else our tastebuds fall for, back to the e-mails, the WhatsApp “conversations”. 

Train to somewhere…

Train to nowhere – travelling for me is often simply going with the flow. And that can be metaphorically or physically given that we certainly have enough rivers and lakes.

I bought myself 20 “day” cards on the Swiss train system for my birthday last year and am really enjoying the joys of “getting up and going” when the mood hits.

Last Saturday I finally made it to Basel (have been saying that I would for several months now, but something – or rather several someones – more interesting came up and I never managed.)

Dame Helvetia overlooking the Rhine in Basel

View of the alps from above the Bern train station Jan 11, 2020

Tuesday I accompanied my younger son on the day out, which I had given him as a Christmas present: a gloriously sunny day, we left at 8 a.m. and returned at 8 p.m. having spent only about 2 and a half hours on foot in all that time. So beautiful that we kept doing loops. Original goal – Lucerne – where I showed him some of the sites and where we ate in Tibits, the new vegetarian restaurant chain that has taken over most of the major train stations. It was so lovely that instead of back-tracking we did a loop to Interlaken so managed to see many of the famous mountain peaks all in one day. Were happily tired but still had a last bite in our local restaurant to round off the day.

Welcome to Lucerne

The old wooden bridge in Lucerne

The lakes on the loop from Lucerne to Interlaken

The same view of the alps from above the Bern train station Jan 14, 2020

Writing exercises or…

Everyone’s imagination is different: fascinating.

Last year at some point I made the trip down to my former housemate’s flat in Southern France for a bit of R&R. She is a writer, a published writer, (http://donnalanenelson.com/) and one of our friends who also lives in the village and she get together for writing exercises. When I’m there I love to join either one or both. Someone picks a person walking by (we sit in an outside café) and we then have 10 minutes to come up with a story. This time however we were simply sitting at the table in her flat with a carton of tomato spread.

This is an example: first my version, then hers

JSL

Why am I here?

I am a plastic carton with tomato spread, supplied for a hen party to go on toast. Is that the sum total of me? What is my purpose in life? Do I have a goal to fulfill? How was I made?

So many questions, so little time. I will attempt an answer to these deep philosophical questions so that all may come to learn of my importance.

Let’s start with the end: how was I made? No one knows exactly although my father supplied the main ingredient, i.e. a tomato. Is my mother the creamy substance? Are my brothers and sisters in the same sauce – as spices – as herbs? In any case I was told that the total of me is delicious. What’s that? I’m short on emotional intelligence.

Do I have a goal to fulfill? Well the obvious one would be that of enhancing a meal (a word I have heard, but for which I have no understanding as I don’t “eat”). And I also have very limited knowledge of goals, although I have heard my maker say that his goal was to please people: a totally unknown concept to me.

What is my purpose in life? Is it only to be spread on those toasts? Do I enhance them, do I simply exist on them? Maybe it is my colour, one to give warmth and cheer although I believe that it wasn’t that cold the day that I was ordered and given to the woman who picked me up.

What is the sum total of me? I am not even sure how many ingredients went into my making and as I have no emotions I am sure I can’t answer that question. I did, however,

overhear one of the women who consumed me say that I leant a certain ambiance to their party. Oh, I know, my importance lay in the fact that I attended a meal shared by women who are friends.

Donna-Lane’s version:

“Red pepper.” Janice spoke in a low voice so Peter wouldn’t hear. He claimed he hated red pepper. If he hadn’t gone out that afternoon, she would never have been able to roast the peppers and peel the blackened skin, add the tomato paste and blend it with crème fresh. Peter loved the result on toast

“Red pepper?” Darlene said not in a low voice.

“Red pepper, I hate red peppers,” Peter said. He’d been talking with Clive on the other side of the fireplace.

“Your wife says that the secret ingredient.” She pointed to the plastic container. Remnants of the spread clung to the side. Peter must have eaten half of it.

“Janice!” His tone matched the time she had washed his boxer shorts with her red blouse dying them pink.

Janice wanted to strangle Darlene. Why had she risked telling Darlene her secret ingredient when Peter was in the room. “You love the spread.”

“You lied,” his frown brought his eyebrows together in the glower she knew all to well.

“I never lied.”

“By omission.” He slammed out of the room.

Nature’s glory or….

Watching a full moon rise.

I missed the almost-full-moon yesterday as it was well in the sky by the time I returned home and noticed it. I was more aware of its being the full moon today but had no idea that on my way back from visiting my grandson that the timing would be so good.

Truly one of life’s ongoing wonders – and often my best full moon photos are of the January one – not sure why, don’t care – just enjoy.