Mothers Day

The sun is shining.Birds are singing.Our garden is already full of flowers. It is a good day.Especially as I am about to be spoilt. Why?
Because it is Mothers Day in Switzerland,and I am one.
I have grown out of the role of course,my daughters have long turned into my friends,which is I suppose as big a compliment as any mother could wish. But I am getting more today. An organised Brunch in the garden and a big bouquet of wild flowers like the ones they used to pick when they were small.

If you are celebrating in your country today.
Happy Mothers Day.

Carla Bruni- Sarkozy and Her President in England.

A State Visit to England always entails a lot of work when it comes to getting the brass polished, but what was shown yesterday for the visit of President Sarkozy of France and his new wife,- more well known for nude portraits, seemed to me as a Brit, and despite everything a Royalist, a little over the top.

Not that I have anything against La Grande Nation.Not more than the average Brit. We just seem to have been at loggerheads with them for the last thousand years.

Luckily after William the Conqueror we always came out on top, and I can’t help thinking that was what the message was about yesterday.
Up until now Nicolas Sarkozy hasn’t had too many admirers. Angela doesn’t care for him, and I don’t think even George was flattered by his dripping charm.

HRH The Prince of Wales showed that even an Englishman could outdo him,when it came to hand kissing.

HRH The Prince Phillip,seemed to really win over Madame Bruni- Sarkozy, but then he always had a way with women,and doesn’t seem to have lost it even at his age.

HM The Queen got out the Golden Coach,and put on so many jewels of immense worth that her head and neck must really ache today.

Even the great hall at Windsor Castle was used as dinner venue-everyone has Palaces.

“I have the ambition to work hand in hand with the English” President Sarkozy told us.

Does he indeed.

I don’t think Gordan Brown will be bowled over.

The Royal Family probably have not amused themselves so much in a long time.

And the crowds only came to look at Carla.

The President certainly has one thing the others haven’t

The perfect diet for fat and sugar lovers

I don’t really need to diet,but have noticed that if I eat more than1500 kcals a day I gain weight.Recently I have retired so stress and exercise which I had when working has been mostly eliminated. Because I enjoy all the things which according to the diet gurus I shouldn’t eat,—cream filled cakes,pastry,chocolate and meat and vegis only with some kind of sauce I am beginning to put on extra Kilo’s, which have to be reduced with a lot of disciplin, willpower and very small helpings of ‘healthy food’. Ugh

You can imagine what pleasure I had whenI read today over the role of food in depressive illness.

It seems that people who punish their bodies in search of a dream figure,restricting their consum of fat,-(read Cholesterol) fatty acids and sugar are doing a lot more harm than good.Reduction brings depressive moods,lowered sexual libido and sleeping problems.In fact blood analysis in suicidal Psychiatric patients showed very low Cholesterol levels.

Cholesterol produces a substance necessary in the making of the sexual hormones.Vitamin D and the substance for carrying messages to the brain.Indeed 10% to 20% of the human brain is made up of Cholesterol.It is also stimulates the reception of Serotin(the happiness hormone) without it the message from the nerve cells wouldn’t be heard.

By a strongly reduced sugar intakeTryptophan which is the forunner of Serotonin can’t get to the cells and therefore Serotin isn’t produced and the body relies Ketone bodies which are far less efficient.

This to me puts a new light on my theories on how not to gain or how to loose weight.

Prescription;

2 to 3 times a week eat only 200gr. of Chocalate

or 5 donuts

or any other sweet and fatty product under a 1000kcal. level.For example ice cream.

On other days normal portions of breakfast lunch and dinner.

Let’s see how we get on.

Christoph Blocher in person

Politics do interest me.I don’t have a great understanding of it. Think if politics were left up to women the world might concievably be a better place. Logical thinking,organisationtalent,sound moral values and a big portion of common sense seem to me necessary but often missing.

What colour would I wear, probably lila.

Lately I went to hear someone talk. I wouldn’t normally have gone far out of my way to listen to him,but as he had been invited to the village by a mutual colleague I felt I should go and hear what he had to say,and beside that I was curious.

One,if not the most contraversial figures in Swiss politics. The head of the Federal Department of Justice and Police, freqently compared to Jean-Marie Le Pen or Jörg Haider or worse, by his left wing political opponents. The Swiss Justice Minister himself -Christoph Blocher.

The theme of his talk was ‘Juvenile crime’ and I was one of at least five hundred people,young and old, equally curious, or fans who had come to listen to how he would solve the problem.

We have a rising number of foreign immigrants in Switzerland,at the moment over twenty procent of the poulation.The problem for us all is not about having a multi-cultural society but how to integrate the young people so they too may have a chance in life, and understand what we are proud of in this country.

I sat and listened to Herr Blocher; who has of course a Doctorate in Law, beside being the owner and Director of the Ems Chemical Concern ,before handing the managment side of it to his daughter when he became Minister of Justice. He made a successfull concern. He talked for over one and a half hours, as though he was sitting at our dining room table,and I didn’t need to look at my watch. He captivated his audience,and what he said wasn’t predudiced,it wasn’t racialist,it wasn’t nationalist-but it did make sense,and it was quite logical.

The following day the rapports were in the local newspapers. I could form an opinion of their commentaries, and Iwould say the press don’t like Christoph,and had I not been there to hear exactly what he said and how he said it I would probably have read it differently.

Why isn’t he popular,I think there are lots of answers,one of them is envy.

Flowers

I have seen the glass flowers at Harvard,- never changing in their artificial beauty.

But the flowers which surprised me today were real.

They look and smell like a breath of Spring as I see them before me on the table now.

A huge bouquet of unruly orange poppies,yellow roses,their petals tipped in amber.Green snowballs,white narcissis and some small orange lillies which I think come from South Africa and of which I don’t know the name. All bedded in a sea of green.

Beautiful,  but not for ever. Beautifull but real.

Thankyou.

‘ Consider the lillies of the field,how they grow;they toil not,neither do they spin:

And yet I say unto you.That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed  like one of these.`

Bible. St.Matthew.
                                        

Amour fou

“Love is like the measles–all the worse when it comes late in life.”

Douglas Jerold 1803-57. Wit and Opinions 1850

I think everybody should experience once in their lives what the French call an ‘Amour fou’

The problem is of course you can’t programme the ending, you just know it will be very painful.

Maybe it will end in the Emergency Room of your local hospital. Usually on a Sunday night.( I know because I worked in them)

Or it will end by you bending down picking up the bits , and trying to fit together what is left with your life.

The second option is probably harder.

But as time passes and the lighter days follow the dark nights you can start to reflect without too much emotion- be it longing, or anger, or just that sick to your to your stomach feeling which you first had when your pet Hamster died .

And you will undoubtably come to the conclusion that it was all worthwhile.

Because between all those broken bits will be the little pleasures that you experienced. Maybe things that give you a new outlook on life,or interests that were unearthed before.

It will still hurt,and it should do. But whatever, or whoever sent it you will wish it could happen again.

Backpacking in Asia

Would you all say I was a little mad that after my ‘coming of age’ on the 19th 0f March-(and its not my 21 st Birhday,but the day on which I never have to work again) I might consider packing a rucksack and getting myself on a flight to somewhere in Asia.

Yes, I do mean backpacking.To those far away places with far away names.

For those who might now be saying,’just do it’ I must admit I have during my married life been a 5*person and roughing it would be a little unusual.

My budget would of course under the circumstances be restricted,so only if absolutely necessary could I pull out a credit card that even in an unwashed and unkempt condition would give me entrance into one of the aforesaid abodes.

The second handicap-and for me probably the greatest, is that I have a hysterical attitude towards anything that creeps or crawls, especially in showers or bedrooms,and to get around this problem have always had a man within shouting distance.

But still the urge to tramp through Asia is very big.

I was a hanger on 68er and while my colleagues were sitting it out,or running away to Goa I was following the rules. Now I feel it’s time to break some of them and do mad things. Do these things have an age limit?
I’ll keep you all posted.And if there is some old 68er out there who would like to come along.I’d have nothing against it provided he could remove unwanted guests.

”Clay lies still,but bloods a rover;

Breath’s a ware that will not keep.

Up, lad: when the journey’s over

There’ll be time enough to sleep.”

A.E Housman 1859-1936

A Shropshire Lad 1896

My Mum’s Scone Recipe

So for all of you who know what scones are, and for those who don’t- here is a fool proof recipe.

8 ounces of Flour

4 teaspoons of baking powder

a pinch of salt

2 ounces of butter (50gr)

1 ounce of sugar (25gr)

1 ounce of sultanas

1 egg

1/8 of a pint of milk

Rub butter, flour,baking powder and salt together in a mixing bowl with fingers or mixer till resembling fine breacrumbs.

Add sugar to the above mixture..

Make well in centre and add the lightly beaten egg and milk.Mix together with rounded end of a knife to form dough.

Roll out 3/4 to an inch thick on a well floured surface.
Cut out scones with a bicuit cutter or upturned small wine glass. Dust tops with flour.
Bake on floured baking tin at 425°F or circa 21o°C for 10 minutes.

They should be well risen and light in colour .

Scones are best eaten fresh, halved. and spread thickly with clotted cream and the best rasberry or strawberry jam.

This Recipe came originally from a neighbour who was one of the best cooks in Yorkshire.

Teatime in London with Scones and Clotted Cream

I was in London again. The city that seems more and more like the ‘Neverland’. A soap bubble that one day will burst and be gone.

But before it goes , and as long as the ravens are on Tower Hill it won’t, I must share my love of Teatime.

What is teatime to less fortunate mortals who didn’t grow up with the smell of Toasted Teacakes in their nostrils?

Afternoon teatime is a ritual that takes place between threethirty and five and where every thing evolves around a pot with a spout a handle and lid. Tastes vary but to me the pot has to be made of porcelain and some may say it has to be Spode,Royal Doultan or at least Wedgewood and the cups matching. What I do know is that out of pottery, or God forgive, plastic, tea does not taste the same.
Satellites to the Teapot are plates or indeed one tiered plate of delicately made sandwiches of brown or white bread, a slice not measuring more than a half a centimeter in thickness, crusts removed. A filling of smoked salmon, egg, or cucumber is well accepted as well as some green decoration in the form of cress.
Small cakes packed with calories , maybe the toasted flat buns known as teacakes. But what musn’t be missing are the scones-plain, or with dried sultanas in them, served with home made jam and and thick or clotted cream,from Devonshire or Cornwall.

Some people talk of death by chocolate,but for me rather by scones.And it could be quite literal because they do tend to sick very much to the inside of the mouth and throat.Probably why their form has become smaller over the years.

Teatime is a British way of life and as enduring as the ravens.

Anyway London wouldn’t be London for me without tea time, and I do have my favourite venue. Expensive it is but the price is more at the Ritz and there you can’t hope for a seat if you are a normal mortal without booking well in advance.

So when you are in London next try tea in the Hotel Lainsborough at Hyde Park Corner. Heavenly- in the truest sense of the word. You see before the building became a very noble hotel it was a very noble hospital, in fact the first British surgeon operated there and the building even has it’s own ghost.

I know because I lived there once. But I didn’t see her serving tea.

How to save money

“Take care of the pence and the pounds will look after themselves”

William Lowndes 1652-1724

On the corner of Rennweg and Bahnhofstrasse in Zürich stands the noble Flagship store of Swiss shoes -Bally.

They are beautifull shoes,beautifully handcrafted at a beautifull price.

I am not a regular customer, but I have bought shoes there, always making the excuse that it is so difficult to find fashionable and comfortable pairs in size 41 ,and definately cheaper than Manilo’s.

A few seasons ago I managed to persuade my Husband to cross the noble threshhold.Which he wouldn’t have done had he not needed a pair of sandals in the middle of February.

A very friendly probably multilingual assistant bade us take a seat and within minutes brought us various boxes of sandals

to try. She was so quick that he didn’t have time to untie his laces before she was crouching down in front of him to help.

And then. Oh the shame of it all! Two blacked socked feet ,and two large holes in the the toes.

But today I read with some amusement,that the head of the world bank, Paul Wolfowitz on a visit to Turkey was taken to a Moschee where before entering men must remove their shoes.

And what did the removal of the shoes of one of the most powerfull men in the world reveal- two black socks with holes in the toes.

Somehow makes you feel our money is beeing well looked after.