A Room with a View

I still can't get over the spectacular views we have from our home. We set up our office in the best part of the house, on the second floor, overlooking Lake Leman. Ok, it will always be Lake Geneva to me, but when in Rome, or I guess when in Morges ...

"Hey Pop! Did you remember to pick up le frommage for fondog ce soir?"

Looking out of the kitchen or office window is one of the favorite things for the dogs to do. We never leave the windows open when they are home alone. When we come home, they will "paw up" to look out the closed window at us. So far, they will "paw up" to look at Mr. Wild Dingo coming home when the windows are open and I'm in the kitchen or office with them. I have a "paws up" command for them which means front paws up. So I used the opportunity to take some shots of them both looking out the window.  I told Mr. Wild Dingo "do not use their name and do not call them" because dogs have no depth perception and "come" will simply mean, jump up and go out the 2-story window to whomever is calling, regardless of no footing below them. As I was giving them their "paws up" command, Mr. Wild Dingo whistled and Juno got so excited, she jumped ALL FOUR paws onto the window sill and was ready to leap. It gave us the heart attack of the century. Thank Dog I was right there to drag her back down.  So this is the only shot you're getting of a doggie in a Swiss window Internet!

On to the view. We set up our office with our desks facing each other so we could both take advantage of the view while we, um, well, while one of us works.

These Ikea desks have electronic legs and they totally rock. With a push of a button, the desk rises or lowers depending upon if you feel like standing or sitting. Mr. Wild Dingo and I use that function several times per day.

One evening, something outside caught Loki's attention.

"Wowzer Mom, check it out. I guess this place isn't so bad after all!"

This was the sunset he was admiring. Awe. He's such a softie for a cracked-out cujo.

Other nights it can look like the Alps are just shadows in the sky. Because I'm a night owl, I see a lot of sunsets.

One morning, Mr. Wild Dingo got me out of bed at the wee hour of 7:30 AM to meet the fence contractors. What kind of barbarian is conscious at that ungodly hour? While I was sipping my black tea to jolt me awake, I noticed this sun rise:

Ok, so maybe that will make up a little bit for forcing me out of a deep and lovely slumber. The rays shining down onto the mountain and then the lake were over in an instant. I took several photos and it was fascinating to watch how fast that photo opportunity disappeared as the rays moved behind the mountains and clouds within seconds.

Pay no attention to the husky in the photo below. This photo is about the kick-ass kitchenette to the right in our office. When we first saw it, we laughed, wondering who in the world would use a kitchen in an upstairs bedroom (to the left behind the husky) and the office? Well, we would, that's who! Mr. Wild Dingo has his coffee there every morning and I use it for green and de-caffeinated teas all day and in the evening. When our green love seat arrives, it will make it even cozier!

"Hey Formosan boy, how about a little morning bitey face action to wake up?"

The view from Mr. Wild Dingo's desk isn't so bad either. It overlooks the left side of Morges and across the lake to Evian.

The staff at Wild Dingo take their European 2-hour lunch break. Don't ever bother a European taking his or her lunch!

Unless of course, you need your daily dose of rebuking from the resident Husky:

"Pop, this is highly unacceptable. This unnecessary touching of the floof and jodhpurs is punishable by Siberian law. Expect masticatory penalties."

The other night we were watching a suspense movie and the volume was a bit high because I'm practically deaf in my old age. Loki started alerting to something.

"Oh my dawg! There's big booms outside Mom! Quick go look!"

Apparently, the Swiss love their fireworks and have many fireworks displays throughout the summer. Lucky for us. No really. After a few barks, he was perfectly fine with the noise and in fact a bit bored.

We have pretty good views from 3 rooms and our back yard.

La Nuit des Epouvantails

There's another pyrotechnic event this weekend in Morges, called La Nuit des Epouvantails.

So now things are starting to make sense. I had been watching the set up for this downtown for two weeks now and in fact, you can see this graphic in some of my past posts on the poles in downtown. It translates "Night of the Scarecrow." On top of this, we've seen some gorgeous metal-based, 12-20 foot art forms of scarecrows throughout the vineyards in Denens and other towns in Vaud (Vaud is the canton we live in).

The legend of the scarecrows begins in the year 1387, when scarecrows were driven into the countryside Morges, by a mysterious, menacing force. They made noise and tormented the winemakers and prevented them from leaving their homes if they wanted to harvest grapes. These vicissitudes were the result of a commitment not kept by the tenants of bringing grapes to the country in exchange for good advice on how to protect the vines against birds.  They went at the time, ending the spell of the scarecrows and burning the king of the bewitched figures. They sang around the fire to honor their word and feasted all night to celebrate the harvest.

In 1996, they found traces of this legend in a courageous winemaker, Agenor, who braved the din of the scarecrows to come repent and plead his case to the Count of Savoy, before the start of the harvest. There was a parade of vintners from Denens to Morges. They made a scarecrow giant and burned it on the church square and feasted all night.  They made a solemn procession to go burn the king of the scarecrow in the church square.

Holy crap. It's Burning Man! In Morges!

Ya, I'm so not going to watch this one from my window. You'll know where I'll be Saturday night.

Stay tuned next week for photos and a story. But do check out La Nuit des Empouvatails and read the legend and view the spectacular photos. The Swiss may be a quiet folk, but they sure know how to party!