Diamonds and Rust

What I like about women is that we can adjust to any situation. The survival instinct is born into us and we are completely adaptable if the situation arises.
In Europe the situation is here, and the only way to exist in it is to go by the old adage;

“If you can’t beat them, join them”

You see the EURO 2008 will be starting soon and Europes men are suffering from Football Fever.
In Switzerland where many of the matches will be held it has reached endemic proportions, and there is absolutely nothing we can do to beat eleven men chasing a ball that they can’t even pick it up.

That is why we will have to join them if we don’t want to spend a very unhappy couple of weeks.
The Commercial College near us has also seen the problematic.
They have now invited Manuel Navarro,a Fifa referee to give a course on the rules of Football for women. Worth checking out I think.
At least we can join in a conversation,-and an offside is not always an offside.
We wouldn’t just have join them,it seems we could even know better.

It makes the EURO 2008 almost acceptable.

You might think the Euro and Potatoes have nothing in common but you would be wrong.

“Swisspatat” the Swiss Potato Industry Organisation says it does.
It is the Worlds best loved vegetable, and Football is the best loved sport. These bind.

Therefore Swisspatat want to widen the horizons of Football Fans with Potato Recipes
from the participating Euro countries, menu ideas and theme evenings are being arranged to waken the interest of fans for other cultures.
Whether “Swedish Potato Pot”, Tschech”Potato Packets”,or “Drunken Potatoes” from Portugal.
Tubors tie.
Infos can be found under www.kartoffel.ch

59% of the people who were asked this question in Switzerland last week said yes. It won’t help of course.It wouldn’t help if most of the world said yes. The only thing that would help is that the athletes themselves refused to take part. But they are not going to do that,because it is all a matter of gain. Advantage, whether it is personal merit, or business profit. Human suffering, is just something that gets in the way. They knew it would. And they still chose China.

It must be the Italian flair in their Spirit. But if Bellinzona, a Football Team from the Italian speaking part of Switzerland can’t match the Azzurros in their football the colour of their clothes certainly does.

Last night we quickly watched some of the match between Bellinzona and Xamax Neuchatel. Bellinzona won 4:2 after penalty shooting, and they will now be playing in the Swiss Cupfinal against Basel. As a Challenge League Club they will certainly have a bit of a fight but maybe in their clothes they will dazzle the eyes of the opponents.

I, at least could hardly believe mine as I saw the splashes of colour running over the television screen.

The Bellinzona players’ shorts and jerseys were PINK, Not Baby Pink, not quite Shocking Pink but shocking enough for the green field.

In Ticino they are apparently known as the “Granata”(Pomegranates)

I think we are certainly going to have a colourful European Cup in Switzerland.

We might live next door to them, but I think I can safely say the Swiss don’t like the Austrians. I think personally that this has got a lot to do with envy if not even jealousy. For as far as I am concerned (even though I married a Swiss) the Austrians have everything the Swiss don’t have.

For most of the year though we have a peacefull co-existence ,except for a few digs here and there,but then the World Cup Ski racing starts and the rivalry between the two countries gets out of hand.

There are probably just two downhill races on the European circuit that share the crown, because they both demand courage, technique,experience,and respect for the piste. One is the Lauberhorn run in Wengen,Switzerland and the other is the Hahnenkamm run in Kitzbühel, Austria.

For the last it’s almost a national tragedy if an Austrian doesn’t have the highest place on the podest in Kitzbühel.The Swiss don’t really care who wins the Lauberhorn just as long as it isn’t one of the neighbours.

Ski Fever is epidemic here until these two races are over.

Last Weekend I invited family members over to a belated Christmas Dinner as we had been away over the Holidays.

“What time”? was the astounded question when I suggested 12pm . Had I forgotten the Lauberhorn?

Yes, of course I had, and it meant replanning the whole three course meal around the race. The last change of plan was made at 10am on that day because the race start had been postponed for an hour due to bad light. Surprisingly enough it all tasted very good but even so everyone disappeared from around the table between the second course and the Trifle.

The day was saved though because an American won, followed by a Swiss and a Canadian.Not an Austrian in sight. Gott sei Dank.

This weekend I’m planning Beans on Toast.They are racing the Hahnenkamm,and Daniel Albrecht was the fastest in training.

Yesterday a 12 year old boy was killed while skiing with his parents outside a marked ski run!

It happened in the well known Parsenn area,near Klosters in Switzerland.

How sad for the loss of a young life, how sad that people who don’t understand the mountains can’t take the advice of people who do.

If you want to Ski in Switzerland we have lots of places to do it in.We have probably the best prepared runs in Europe ( a money thing)

We have Nursery Slopes,Blue Runs,Red Runs and Black Runs. If you really want to kill yourself then believe me the black ones are best for the novice skier. They are planned by experts and mountaineers, like the ex Swiss Downhill World Champion Bernhard Russi who still plans the World Cup runs.

But every year there are fools who know better where to ski,and succumb to the call of virgin snow, even after heavy snowfalls with an Avalanche alert like on Sunday.

To me it isn’t being clever,it’s just being downright stupid.

I got my first introduction to the joys of skiing outside of Charring Cross station in London. Invariably one doesn’t live next door to a ski lift so it means transporting whatever you may need with you, and believe me you are going to need a lot.

On that cold February morning I was waiting with a case full of warm clothes for my fellow travellers.

I had seen an ad. in a London evening paper about a holiday in Leysin in Switzerland, organised by an army ski instructor.It was cheap,- and that was the first priority for students like myself,- so I toddled along to the orientation meeting.

We were to travel in a mini bus and stay two weeks at the Club Vagabond,which as I learned later said all.

I happened to be sitting next to a young woman teacher, who unlike the rest of us had her own car and was willing to drive it, as the trip with the mini bus had proved to be very much in demand. Being a nice sort of person who also tends to like comfort I offered to go with her, and it wouldn’t have been England if two Gentleman hadn’t insisted on accompanying us. To protect us from the Heathens en route of course.

So there I was waiting apprehensively for I had never been skiing before.
The car proved to be an old Ford Anglia! There were already three pairs of skis fastened the wrong way round on the roof.

This is the first problem with packing for a ski holiday,the ski and sticks have to be fastened to the car roof so that;

a) It doesn’t take off on the motorway

b) By a sudden stop the points don’t go through the rear window of the vehicle in front.

c) They are not scattered along the way causing devastation without you even realising it.

Nowadays there are of course good ski racks, but they don’t entirely eliminate the problems.

In the boot of the Anglia was of course already the luggage and ski shoes of the other three. How the hell was I supposed to get mine in.

Naturally everything had to come out and we had to figure a way of fitting it all back in again.

This is the second problem when going on a ski holiday, it involves taking a load of stuff with you. This problem increases of course if children are with you. Then you will also need to pack their sledge or (help) sledges,along with everything else from ice skates to diving gear for the indoor swimming pool. My husband drove a stationwagon for years because of winter holidays.

Much later the four of us, plus a guitar,were packed tight in the little Anglia and off to the Continent. We were of course later than scheduled and because of the heavy traffic in the Blackwall tunnel missed the car ferry at Dover and the mini bus which we should have been following to Switzerland. It was the start of quite an adventure.
It was the beginning of my skiing career.

My advice to anybody considering starting too, is, unless you can live with the unexpected, the discomforts, the wet, the cold, the pain and the expense

DON’T

I am exhausted. Physically and mentally.

I have just come back from my line dancing class. Now don’t laugh, I know line dancing went out with the Charleston

Two weeks ago I saw the announcement of a beginners class and I thought it couldn’t hurt if I toddled along to take a look at the company I might want to make a fool of myself in.

An Aunt and Uncle of mine , have been line dancing for the last ten years, they are extremely agile and alert and are now over seventy.They blame it on their weekly meeting.

My music appreciation covers many forms, good country is one of them, although I believe it’s considered bad taste in some circles in the United States, and here for that matter.

I thought I’d give it a try anyway seeing as it looked as if I definitely wasn’t the oldest in the group of sixteen women and two men.

Of course they don’t always dance to country these days. The music is very mixed which makes it all a bit more difficult.

In fact it really isn’t as simple as it looks, but that is what I wanted. It really needs a lot of concentration to keep in line,there are steps to be memorised and when and in which direction you should be turning. Chaos prevailed today because nine of the class were turning right when they should have been turning left. so it was all good fun too.

An hour of dancing was really quite strenuous so I felt at least after my second lesson this evening I was doing something for my physical fitness too.

I did make the pilgrimage to the home of country once. But I don’t have a hat, and I should have bought a pair of cowboy boots.

Three more lessons and we will be able to perform at the next Country and Line Dance Night she said.

Don’t say I get paid for it too.

That the Swiss can live peacefully with weapons has been obvious since William Tell hit the proverbial apple.

That Swiss males in military service age keep their rifles and pistols at home and the female population grows continually is almost a world wonder.

That our medical Doctors have little to no experience with dealing with gunshot wounds is explainable.

The Swiss don’t shoot each other,they shoot at targets.

Probably each village here has a shooting range. It is obligatory that every male from 18 to 40 has shooting practice.

For under and above that age there are countless rifle and pistol shooting clubs-also open to women, and contests in marksmanship are continually being held.

An elderly gentleman who doesn’t live far away from me took part in the last “Eidgenossisch” National Contest.

He is 101 years old.

He can still score better than any other in his category-veterans, he hopes to be at the next,and doesn’t see why not.

For his 100th Birthday he bought himself a second hand computer and loves using it.

When asked how he manages to keep  himself so well,he says he drinks a glass of whiskey a day.

Just one.

I don’t really know what I’ve got against bikers. (Cyclists)
It’s not that I can’t ride a bike.The first bike I had was a lovely shiny blue Triumph.

I still remember coming downstairs on a cold Christmas morning to find it propped against the wall. I was six years old, going on seven. It was the only new bike I ever had,all the rest were second hand and painted over in a not so shiny black by my father who said I was growing so quickly he couldn’t afford new ones. I suspected though it was for the same reason that he repaired the shoes I wore to school with leather soles half an inch thick. They looked like clogs and I don’t think I ever got over the shame of it. That’s why I’ve got a bit of a fetish about them today and own more than thirty pairs.

I don’t own a bike,but I am thinking of buying one,purely for enjoyment purposes of course.

It would have to be a Miss Marples type of bike, you know those stiff back type ones with a wicker basket up front for the dog. You can almost imagine the rider sitting side saddle on it if it were possible to turn the peddles in that position.

It definitely would not be a racing bike, because I’ve got something against these, or rather the people who ride them. At least the ones in Switzerland, elsewhere bikers may be different?

First of all I see no need for the fancy uniform (Headgear excluded). I have no inclination to look like a bird of paradise if I’m only riding a couple of kilometers.

But it’s the impression that these athletes or otherwise leave on me,that makes me dislike them in general.
That is, that they think they are the Kings or Queens of the road.

The highway code is not for them, nor is a red light or speed limit. That a motorist or pedestrian might have right of way doesn’t concern them, no their credo is “I’m alright Jack”.
In Switzerland billions of francs have been spent building cycling ways parallel to the main roads ,elaborate wide paths half the width of the roads .(normal roads were too dangerous for them.) They are empty and the bikers are still on the roads.!!!

On the way home today I nearly had two accidents,and saw a woman almost run over on a pedestrian crossing because of people on bikes. (I suppose there is need for the colourful get up,at least we can see them.
I ask myself where the police are? Out fining motorists ,or training on their racing bikes.