Those shadows.

Sparkling windows.

Sparkling windows.

Here a Song;

When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt forget.

I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.

(Christina Rossetti 1830-1894)

A wise man knows nothing, a fool everything! It is to be hoped by many that gaining some insight and wisdom might be the final reward for getting old; apart from the inevitable final curtain call of dying 😉 There isn’t a great deal that can be done about that one, except be prepared and choose your own coffin in time. ( the laminated Mount Calvary with chrome handles might be a good choice) 😉 🙂

I usually welcome the coming of personal shadows and my advice to others; welcome them! I know there are Men’s sheds and Beyond Blue orgs to help out for those in serious downers. I take a different tack. I invite the blues and let it wash over me like a thick but reassuring fog and accept the challenge. It will dissipate as sure as the sun goes down behind the horizon. Who wants to be happy; happy all the time? It is badly overrated. The nurturing of Western forms of happiness is nothing more than terminal capitalistic Overlords wanting you to empty your wallets, doing shopping in huge shopping malls filled with truly depressed and oh so sad people seeking ‘happiness. Is that what I want? No, go and get fucked; give me a solid dose of clear sighted shadows at any time.

Lately I have been deeply immersed in cleaning windows. With the double glazing and carpenters fingerprints all showing, with the yellow afternoon sun at a certain angle, I decided to seek survival through a bout of window washing. I love dish washing and avoid dish-washers and not because of economics, no, more of enjoying swirling my hands around warm water. It satisfies. Don’t ask, why? There is a lot there, I know.

With windows I could not understand that using the clear blue tinted window washing liquid from that Mecca of cleaning detergents, Woolworth, and a good cloth, that the glass seemed keen on showing a film of milky white as soon as the afternoon sun hit it. I re-washed them again, this time with sparkling clean water and brand new cotton cloth, cut from my old pair of pyjamas. The same milky white again. I then remember my mother using a special cloth. Is it called a chamois? It was a kind of leathery cloth and made a squeaking sound when drying the windows. I bought one…and…victory. The windows are sparkling. I am so happy.

I know, I know, but it is probably a Dutch thing.

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24 Responses to “Those shadows.”

  1. Adrian Oosterman Says:

    Mix a small amount of methylated spirits in a bucket of water or use a small empty spray bottle….fill with contents and use newspaper to clean. Who know it may even be better then the chamois .

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Lottie Nevin Says:

    I’m not fond of dishwashers either, I much prefer washing-up and find it quite satisfying all the hot water and soap suds – maybe I feel that I’m washing away my sins? Who knows. As I write this, I’ve just noticed how spectacularly grubby our windows are, you don’t fancy a trip over to Spain do you? When Colin shakes his head, his ears make exactly the same sound as a window cleaner shaking out his chamois leather….btw I’ve also heard that newspaper is good too and vinegar apparently – all that’s missing then is the fish and chips inside! 😉

    Liked by 2 people

    • gerard oosterman Says:

      I normally don’t care about the state of windows. I don’t know what came over me. I would rather look at nice courtyards and geraniums. Spanish Chorizo tonight with hearty pea soup cooked by H.


  3. M-R Says:

    Nothing like a chammy, Gerard.
    Nothing like your down times, either.


  4. rod Says:

    I have hears that a little vinaigre in the water helps with windows. As for me, Iike rain.


  5. Andrew Says:

    We also used a chamois leather. And Windowlene. Worked a treat. Such tasks can be very therapeutic. I went through a phase when ironing was the cure. The pride in a crisply ironed white shirt is hard to beat. Crease-free collars and cuffs (matching). What more could a man covet? Except perhaps a second shed.


  6. kaytisweetlandrasmussen83 Says:

    Thanks for the reminder of the chamois cloth Gerard. I had forgotten that one. We also used one to wash the car. Good advice. I’ll tell the Doctor.


  7. Red Hen Says:

    Oh, there’s a gleam on that sink of yours that sings if a spotlessly clean house, Gerard, not to mind that high shine window!
    But it love your thoughts on happiness and the marketeers and maybe letting the blues wash through rather than running away from them, might just be a way to go.
    And yep, dishwashers are over rated.


    • gerard oosterman Says:

      Thank you Red Hen. If it wasn’t for the window’s sparkle and sink’s a’shining I would be doing the rounds in your neck of the woods. Oh those lovely castles, many a battle’s been fought so many years ago. And now, your photos makes us stand in wondrous rapture.


  8. auntyuta Says:

    Sparkling windows make me happy too, Gerard. Peter has set his mind on cleaning all our windows before my 80th birthday! He usually does not want to do any sort of work for more than one hour at a time. One hour a day cleaning windows or doing some work in the garden is good enough for me. But then he does also do the vacuuming once a week as well as the dishes when I do the cooking. Sometimes he also does some cooking. And he drives me to the shops or does the shopping himself. The work is never ending. Much better to spend time on the computer, isn’t it?
    However Peter insists he can do the window cleaning himself. He does not want anybody to come in and do the work for him.
    You mention double glazed windows, Gerard. Before the war all apartments in Berlin where I grew up, had double glazed windows. Some time after the war they introduced double glazing in one piece, meaning there were only two outsides to clean, and it was still double glazing for energy saving purposes.
    As far as a coffin is concerned, I would like to be able to choose a simple paper coffin for cremation. Why spend money on an expensive coffin that only gets burned then anyway? Doesn’t make sense to me.


  9. auntyuta Says:

    PS. Maybe you are due back home this weekend? I hope you and H had a lovely time.


  10. Charlotte Hoather Says:

    One of the worst things is cleaning! Well maybe ironing is the worst!! My Mum got me a magic blue cloth from a shop called Lakeland for mirrors and the patio doors in the lounge, you just spray water then wipe off, no smears, no chemicals, very quick. I do them at the end of term when I’m due to be picked up lol.


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