A day can be too long!

 

‘Taxi’ service, swim, shower & shave, hospital appointment, blood test, Catalan lesson, visit to the framers, a little light shopping.  All starting at 6.00 am.

And yesterday, in spite of my knowledge of myself, I wrote that, “The afternoon can be given up to writing.”  As if!  I am not sure that my weariness was because of having done so much before the morning was out or because of the sheer differences of experience that the six hours between 6.00 am and midday afforded.

Whatever the reason, by the time I had had my lunch and sat in my armchair, I knew that my right hand would search out the remote to recline the seat and drift into that half-waking dreamland that is a function of relaxation and the sound of Radio 4 playing in the background.

The only thing that got me up and doing was the realization that my supplies of tea are getting dangerously low.  Catalonia is not the arid wasteland of tea-lessness that it once was.  I mean, tea has always been available, but not the British tea (with taste!) that I have been brought up with.  However, my tea now has the extra need to be decaffeinated because it is an integral part of the regime laid down by my doctors, by which I am supposed to live - or suffer the fatal consequences!  And decaffeinated tea is not as easily available here.

That should not be problematic in this age of the internet where anything and everything is available at the frenzied pressing of money into the ever-open electronic grasping hands of Amazon.  And, sure enough, there are numerous suppliers who make decaffeinated tea and it can also be sent to be Catalonia.  The only question is that of cost.  One supplier seemed to offer a reasonably priced product, but the price of sending it to Catalonia was almost as much as the product itself!

I have now been to a local supermarket which caters, in some of its product range, to the British residents.  In the reasonably extensive ‘tea’ section there are indeed two or three makes of British tea, but none, alas, that are decaffeinated.  The range includes those fruit and herb teas that sound good in theory but invariably fail to please.  At least fail to please me.

It was at the point that I was almost driven to buy a vegetable tea that I had never seen before, that I finally noticed the unobtrusive boxes that claimed to be decaffeinated black tea – the supermarket’s own make.  I made an executive decision and bought half a dozen boxes and thought that having bought them I would get used to whatever it tasted like – and anyway I also bought some ‘full-strength’ Earl Grey to make it palatable in the mix that I usually drink. 

  

And, having just sampled this new double brew, it is – acceptable.  But that is very much not the adjective that I would use for my blends that are lying unused in myriad containers, where the mere aroma is intoxicating enough without the use of boiling water.  I have limited myself to a cup of ‘real’ tea every few days which is probably a bad idea because it shows up the rather vapid drinks that I try and pretend are reasonable cups of tea!

And now that I am (more) refreshed, I could turn to my writing – but Toni has just appeared after an unsatisfactory day at work and he wants to go out for something to eat for our evening meal, and I am not so churlish as to refuse.  Even if his day of ‘work’ cannot have been as taxing as mine!

-oOo-

There is a positive and a negative to be taken from my activity today. 

 

In hospital my blood test result was exactly in the range where it should be and so, finally, I was given the go-ahead to change the location of future tests from Bellvitge Hospital to our local medical centre.  At least I think that is what is going to happen, I have been given a photocopied standard letter and I will have to take it in to my doctor and take it from there.  If nothing else I will be able to go to our local centre by bike and not have to use the expensive car park in Bellvitge.

The less positive element in the day is connected with the framers.  I knew that my little ‘project’ had elements that might be problematical, but when I was in the framers these were brushed aside with a ‘we can do this’ approach that I found stimulating.  It didn’t last.  This afternoon I was phoned up by the actual framer who said that they simply did not have the equipment to realize my idea.  Pity.  There are other shops in Castelldefels, but I might have similar problems there too.  I have not, however, given up.  It will exist!

Now out for an evening meal.

And who knows, after being fed (no salt, low fat) and watered (0% alcohol) I might feel inclined to, finally, get on with the writing that I thought would be a simple progression from a full morning!

Belief and action are not the same thing.