Geneva is again Mighty Mom free but for three glorious days this lovely and talented woman was once again walking our Genevan streets.
The problem with international friends is that they move on to other countries.
It isn't just Mighty Mom who left, but the couple Czech, and a certain Syrian doctor among others. We stay in touch. We Skype. We email. We read blogs. We see each other from too long time to too long time.
There are people who won't make friends with internationals because they know they will lose the possibility of daily contact. Then there are those that wouldn't want to pass up the opportunity to share time and activities. It is a variation of not replacing a loved dog because of the pain of losing the next one rather than relishing the time with the new dog.
What make face-to-face contact even more wonderful when it does happen is that not only does it bring back good memories it creates a new one.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Music nostalgia leads to a surprise
In a nostalgic moment last night I went to youtube to listen to the folk musicians that I loved when driving to work in the 1980:
Ferron
Bob Franke
Christine Levin
Lucie Blue Tremblay
Chris Williamson
John Gorka
Cheryl Wheeler
Nanci Griffith
I checked out bios on Wikipedia and their website many of which had photos.
Something happened since I would sit in various coffee houses.
They had gotten old looking, fatter and sometimes even balder.
Somehow, it surprised me in the same way it does when babies I knew are having babies and in some cases (gulp) their babies are having babies.
Now how did that all happen?
Ferron
Bob Franke
Christine Levin
Lucie Blue Tremblay
Chris Williamson
John Gorka
Cheryl Wheeler
Nanci Griffith
I checked out bios on Wikipedia and their website many of which had photos.
Something happened since I would sit in various coffee houses.
They had gotten old looking, fatter and sometimes even balder.
Somehow, it surprised me in the same way it does when babies I knew are having babies and in some cases (gulp) their babies are having babies.
Now how did that all happen?
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Electrical box safari
Rather than happen across painted electrical boxes, and since it was a beautiful day
I started hopping trolleys. Everytime I spied a box, I would get off at the next stop take its photo and hop on the next trolley that came along.
I found nine. Here are two. I'll go back out on another safari on another beautiful day.
be
Saturday, May 14, 2011
I ordered the DVD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbS4ruKw2OQ
It won't be out until July, but Phil Ochs is even more relevant today.
It won't be out until July, but Phil Ochs is even more relevant today.
Saturday, May 07, 2011
Deal
I won't say anything to my housemate about her reporting an out of order phone to Swisscom, if she doesn't say anything to me about trying to unlock a door not properly closed.
Monday, May 02, 2011
Bin Laden
Americans celebrated the death of Bin Laden in the same way they criticized the Muslims that celebrated 9/11. And although 9/11 was a horrible, horrible, horrible event it unleashed an even worse catastrophe on Iraq.
3,000 people from 82 countries died in 9/11.
More American and Brit soldiers died than were killed in the resulting wars.
An untold number of Afghans and Iraqis died, far greater than the troops and those in NY on 9/11.
A symbol for death and destruction for both sides is dead. Nothing more, nothing else.
The insanity of it all will continue.
3,000 people from 82 countries died in 9/11.
More American and Brit soldiers died than were killed in the resulting wars.
An untold number of Afghans and Iraqis died, far greater than the troops and those in NY on 9/11.
A symbol for death and destruction for both sides is dead. Nothing more, nothing else.
The insanity of it all will continue.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The suspended firetruck
My housemate had to turn around to get the photos of the suspended firetruck. I'm glad she's generous about sharing. I couldn't find my camera.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Rewards
A reward I give myself after a good day of writing is the walk to the lake. Waves are rare. Yesterday it was more like being at the sea, except the smell of water still had a freshness that salt water does not.
Grafetti with attitude
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
Two photos
Today we had to go downtown for an errand and of course, we had to eat an Italian buffet which will probably do for dinner and breakfast tomorrow. Two photos caught my eye.
Rafters in a building going back to 1710
Just to prove the Swiss are capable of being really, really tacky, take a gander at bunny buns...a Lindt rabbit to match the match the chocolate normal-sized Easter bunnies for sale. The only sad part that it is not solid chocolate...it's not unsolid chocolate but but merely some kind of balloony material.
Wish it were chocolate, nice black chocolate.
Rafters in a building going back to 1710
Just to prove the Swiss are capable of being really, really tacky, take a gander at bunny buns...a Lindt rabbit to match the match the chocolate normal-sized Easter bunnies for sale. The only sad part that it is not solid chocolate...it's not unsolid chocolate but but merely some kind of balloony material.
Wish it were chocolate, nice black chocolate.
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
Refugees
Oh how we danced on the night we were wed
We vowed our true love though word wasn't said
Why is it Eastern block refugees play this, Besa me mucho(sp?) and sometimes Llara theme on the buses. Don't they know any other songs?
Saying that, there are some really good musicians, especially the violinists.
Waiting for the bus in Corsier Port I often end up talking to refugees from the centre where they stay in our village. Last week it was a woman from Senegal with two daughters who are back home with her mom. She was working in Barcelona but the economic crisis ended that.
Then this week a 25-year old from Mali, a carpenter, told me how hard his life had been.
As anywhere there is some resentment of the refugees. People are quick to accuse them of crime (sometimes true) and also because they get better medical insurance free than citizens (also true).
It is hard to distinguish between the political and economical refugees.
I am just aware of how tremendously lucky I was not to be born in anything but a first world situations and given every opportunity possible. My accident of birth was better than their accident of birth.
What is the point?
I'm not sure except I can't help but feel sympathy for those that have not had the good fortune I've had, and I can't begrudge them a few things going their way.
We vowed our true love though word wasn't said
Why is it Eastern block refugees play this, Besa me mucho(sp?) and sometimes Llara theme on the buses. Don't they know any other songs?
Saying that, there are some really good musicians, especially the violinists.
Waiting for the bus in Corsier Port I often end up talking to refugees from the centre where they stay in our village. Last week it was a woman from Senegal with two daughters who are back home with her mom. She was working in Barcelona but the economic crisis ended that.
Then this week a 25-year old from Mali, a carpenter, told me how hard his life had been.
As anywhere there is some resentment of the refugees. People are quick to accuse them of crime (sometimes true) and also because they get better medical insurance free than citizens (also true).
It is hard to distinguish between the political and economical refugees.
I am just aware of how tremendously lucky I was not to be born in anything but a first world situations and given every opportunity possible. My accident of birth was better than their accident of birth.
What is the point?
I'm not sure except I can't help but feel sympathy for those that have not had the good fortune I've had, and I can't begrudge them a few things going their way.
Monday, April 04, 2011
New blog
http://breastisyettocome.blogspot.com/
Although I am not happy for the reason, I do have a new blog site. If I have to go through the experience at least I can get some good words about it. Once a writer, always a writer.
Although I am not happy for the reason, I do have a new blog site. If I have to go through the experience at least I can get some good words about it. Once a writer, always a writer.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
He he
Watching BBC news talk about the election results from Baden-Würtemburg made me smile, because so many times I had stood in exactly the spot the announcer did. They were broadcasting from Stuttgart.
I felt almost as smug as the day I was channel surfing and stopped and new exactly where they were photographing in Damascus.
I felt almost as smug as the day I was channel surfing and stopped and new exactly where they were photographing in Damascus.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Misc
On the way to a Chinese buffet in France today for lunch, we saw a field of camels.
Got the bill for two eye surgeries and four appointments from the surgeon. 456CHF or about US$515. I expected at least another 0 on the cost. All but 10 percent is covered by insurance and mostly I can see again. It is even a pleasure to look at the spot on the ceiling that was invisible for six years prior to the surgery.
Walking down the hill from the village looking at the lake, I passed violets and forsythia. The birds were obviously auditioning for some choral production.
Got the bill for two eye surgeries and four appointments from the surgeon. 456CHF or about US$515. I expected at least another 0 on the cost. All but 10 percent is covered by insurance and mostly I can see again. It is even a pleasure to look at the spot on the ceiling that was invisible for six years prior to the surgery.
Walking down the hill from the village looking at the lake, I passed violets and forsythia. The birds were obviously auditioning for some choral production.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Destination Dijon
My housemate reached into the bowl with five pieces of folded paper. She pulled one out. “Dijon.”
Thus we determined the location of our next mini adventure.
“Let’s not use the major roads, let’s just wander. Thus we crossed the border at Vallorbe and wandered through countryside that could have Norway, the Black Forest or Maine. We stopped to ooh and ahh at lakes and church steeples.
At Arbois, we stopped for what was supposed to be a light lunch with a good dinner planned for Dijon. Instead as we peered out this window, we had the house paté rapée carrots and purple cabbage, trout, chicken, courgettes, chocolate mousse and crème brulée.
The waiter, from the region explained that this was the wine capital of the region and talked of yellow wine (like sherry) and straw wine (grapes dry on straw for three months before the fermentation process is begun).
We found the most interesting statues including hitchhiking bees along the main road and statues in the river running through the time.
We poked around and around, finding Louis Pasteur’s home and all kinds of statues in strange places. Outside the town we found a hotel where we enjoyed the local wine.
A group of businessmen from Holland, Belgium, the UK and US were talking about their project and waiting for Steve to join them, who was on his way for Dijon. They decided not to wait, because Steve always found a reason not to join them for dinner.
The next morning we headed for Salin-les-Bains to look at the pottery studios before heading home.
The weather was rainy and foggy and beautiful. Dijon will be there another time.
Thus we determined the location of our next mini adventure.
“Let’s not use the major roads, let’s just wander. Thus we crossed the border at Vallorbe and wandered through countryside that could have Norway, the Black Forest or Maine. We stopped to ooh and ahh at lakes and church steeples.
At Arbois, we stopped for what was supposed to be a light lunch with a good dinner planned for Dijon. Instead as we peered out this window, we had the house paté rapée carrots and purple cabbage, trout, chicken, courgettes, chocolate mousse and crème brulée.
The waiter, from the region explained that this was the wine capital of the region and talked of yellow wine (like sherry) and straw wine (grapes dry on straw for three months before the fermentation process is begun).
We found the most interesting statues including hitchhiking bees along the main road and statues in the river running through the time.
We poked around and around, finding Louis Pasteur’s home and all kinds of statues in strange places. Outside the town we found a hotel where we enjoyed the local wine.
A group of businessmen from Holland, Belgium, the UK and US were talking about their project and waiting for Steve to join them, who was on his way for Dijon. They decided not to wait, because Steve always found a reason not to join them for dinner.
The next morning we headed for Salin-les-Bains to look at the pottery studios before heading home.
The weather was rainy and foggy and beautiful. Dijon will be there another time.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
No glasses
For those who won't recognize me, I'll either
1. Wear a name tag
2. Identify myself
yesterday at Manana, a TexMex restaurant I go to often, the manager didn't know me.
I can't look that differently. Makes me think that hiding out might not be so hard to do after all, especially if I change my hair colour and don't speak. My accents would give me away in either English or French.
On our white board
We've begun listing things that make us happy or that we are grateful for on the white board also known as communication centre. My next listing will be "this morning." Not that anything spectacular happened, but the day began awash in pleasantness.
I needed to go to the bank to trace down a missing money wire. My housemate needed therapy, which seemed like a perfect excuse to stop at the tea room in the next village. The plates we selected for our treats were like an English garden alive with blue and yellow flowers. The tea room is full of rustic tables, art work, novelties. The tables were full of people talking. My housemate's cappuccino was a work of art with cocoa sprinkled on whipped creme as thick as ice cream.
My housemate left ahead of me for appointment and sneakily paid for my almond croissant and green tea.
Outside the tea room the first spring flowers were being brave enough to show their faces.
At the bank, the teller found the missing money. Not only is she extremely helpful, she always has her nails done with different designs. Today different tiny flowers decorated each nail. They would have been a good match for the plate at the tea room. I confided my desire to some day have my hands done with the lacy henna of the Middle East. She replied with the French version of "Go for it."
I walked back home, about twenty minutes in the sunshine, but the shadows of the trees on the church caught my eye. Still no leaves but birds were singing their little hearts out.
The air is still tingly but pleasantly so. The ground on one patch of farm land has been turned. The snow on top of the Jura is melting, the mountains looked as if they were part of a Monet.
As I said, nothing spectacular, just pleasant. I don't need more.
I needed to go to the bank to trace down a missing money wire. My housemate needed therapy, which seemed like a perfect excuse to stop at the tea room in the next village. The plates we selected for our treats were like an English garden alive with blue and yellow flowers. The tea room is full of rustic tables, art work, novelties. The tables were full of people talking. My housemate's cappuccino was a work of art with cocoa sprinkled on whipped creme as thick as ice cream.
My housemate left ahead of me for appointment and sneakily paid for my almond croissant and green tea.
Outside the tea room the first spring flowers were being brave enough to show their faces.
At the bank, the teller found the missing money. Not only is she extremely helpful, she always has her nails done with different designs. Today different tiny flowers decorated each nail. They would have been a good match for the plate at the tea room. I confided my desire to some day have my hands done with the lacy henna of the Middle East. She replied with the French version of "Go for it."
I walked back home, about twenty minutes in the sunshine, but the shadows of the trees on the church caught my eye. Still no leaves but birds were singing their little hearts out.
The air is still tingly but pleasantly so. The ground on one patch of farm land has been turned. The snow on top of the Jura is melting, the mountains looked as if they were part of a Monet.
As I said, nothing spectacular, just pleasant. I don't need more.
Potato Sticks and Gin Rummy
The package in the mail with potato sticks brought it all back, a good memory from a horrible time in my life. The gift was from a high school friend, who in the early stages of my separation and divorce, would take the train from Boston to visit me and my infant daughter. M claimed Llara's nose was so tiny that it was a miracle she could breath through it. Neither of us were in good places, but days never seemed sad when we we could talk it out together.
When the baby napped, M and I would play gin rummy and munch on potato sticks. It didn't matter who won, she was a breath of sanity.
Her parents were surrogate parents as well as they had been for me throughout high school. Her mother would visit on Tuesday nights often bringing something for the baby. Her father would do chores, and unlike the husbands of some of my friends, they were needed household chores -- a leaky faucet, a lamp that didn't work -- which had nothing to do with sex. One night he appeared with a big, big grin and a round green moon wagon that Llara loved to ride in.
M and I have shared being foul weather friends for years and later in life were able to transition into being fair-weather friends, delighting in the fact we each have found ways to be happy that we would never have thought possible when one of us would say "Deal," or do "Do you want another glass of Coke?"
So the can contained more that just the potato sticks. It contained a life full of memories.
Sunday, March 06, 2011
My heart is with Wisconsin
"We must close union offices, confiscate their money and put their leaders in prison. We must reduce workers' salaries and take away their right to strike." Adolf Hitler, May 2, 1933" and we all know how well that worked out.
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