LOCKDOWN CASTELLDEFELS - DAY 5

How comforting instantly created routine can be!

     I have decided, after my exploratory ‘walk’ around the pool yesterday that my day will start with a ten-minute walk before breakfast.  Before I venture out I will set the robot hoover going and when I come back I will have my cup of tea, my bowl of muesli and sit down and complete the Guardian quick crossword on my mobile phone and, after that is complete, I will change the hoover to mop and send the robot on its way for the second part of the cleaning process.

     As a special domestic treat for myself today, I loaded the dishwasher with dishes that Toni had not put away and also loaded the dryer with clothes left from yesterday in the washing machine and then loaded up the washing machine for its next wash.

     It is now almost time for my next little ‘walklet’ around the pool as I am determined to get in half an hour of mild exercise a day.  And then there is the writing.

     My main blog is up and running again, and I am beginning to feed my poetry blog (smrnewpoems) with description and individual works.  There is also my young adult novel with the working title of The Standings, that has not progressed very far beyond a few notes and scraps of writing, but this incarceration is the ideal time to ‘get a move on’ and put something more substantial down on paper.

     And then there is the Catalan.  I have convinced myself that it is unlikely that my class in Catalan will start up again before September and therefore I have done nothing to compensate for time lost or in the process of being lost.  This is not a logical attitude and Toni’s casual question, “How much Catalan have you done?” yesterday was a needful prod.  I have done something, but not enough to register: you can hardly count passing glances at work completed as actual study!  This would be the perfect time to do the graft that I find so hard with languages except my own!

     And the lino printing.  Apart from the fact that none of Toni’s family knows what I am talking about when I witter on about lino printing, I did, fifty (sic.) years ago find reasonable satisfaction in cutting and printing and I do now have the material to get going again.  And I will.  And furthermore I will post a reproduction of what I produce to show that I have done more than merely write about actions!  I can see that what I am doing here is what I do in my notebook, that is, write little notes to myself to get action rather than words.  We shall see whether it works.

I have now been for my second ‘walklet’ and feel smug and superior – which is good going for a total so far of twenty odd minutes of slow walking, but, following the Rees motto, “Anything is better than nothing.”

To our horror, our noisy reconstructing neighbours returned to the worksite (or the house adjoined to us) and did a few exploratory thumps on wall, ceiling or floor just to let us know that enforced isolation can be made even worse by inconsiderate hammer wielders! 

Unshaven and un-swum

 

It takes time to realize that some things that you usually do, do not necessarily have to be done.

I won’t list the little things that we do that only have the power of frequency or habit to recommend them, but if you think about your day there will be all sorts of actions and ‘rituals’ that you do that could be scrapped at a moment’s notice and your life would be better.  Or at least different.

These thoughts (if they can be dignified with that appellation) have been prompted by the fact that we came back from Terrassa after a family celebration quite late.  As we get up at 6 am (sic) any lateness to bed is penalized by the rapidly approaching morning!  So we were both tired today and the ride to work was more than usually taciturn.  But, we got there in time, indeed with enough time to spare for Toni to have an early morning coffee to give him the necessary caffeine fix to get through to the breakfast break.

As I stuttered by way past the series of red lights in Cornella on my way home, a thought struck me.  I didn’t have to go to work.  And (traitorous thought) I didn’t have to have my swim.  Now, not swimming (in spite of the fact that I enjoy the activity) is something that I constantly had to deal with on my way back from school at the end of the day when I was working.  I had an (expensive) membership of the David Lloyd Centre and that august institution had not only a fair sized indoor pool, but also a far more bracing outdoor one. 

But, at the end of the day I was tired and disinclined to swim.  I would spend the distance from school to home debating with myself about whether I really wanted to go for a swim, because, after all, I had had a swim in the morning, or would I rather have a proper cup of tea at home.  This debate would go on until I found myself (somehow) in the car park of the David Lloyd Centre.  And I would go and have a swim.

Now that I am retired, I find that I am made of sterner stuff.  The dictum, “You are tired, go to bed” seemed to me to have the authority of sacred law.  So, in spite of the fact that the swimming pool is directly on my return route, I veered away from the entrance and came home and went back to bed.  And I feel better for it!

I will not laze around too much, after all I have the liquid accusation of a communal swimming pool just outside the back garden gate to urge me to take my accustomed exercise, even if it is a little later than usual.

And then there is the indulgence of being unshaven.  In the (early) morning I just have a cursory wash and brush my teeth (not so cursorily) because I have a shower and a shave after my swim.  Which in my case I have not had.  So it is now a question of which comes first?  The cup of tea, the swim, or ablutions.

What obviously came first was this piece of writing which is something that characterises my approach to life: if in doubt, write.  So having written, I think I will have a swim, then a shower and shave and then a lingering cup of tea on the terrace on the third floor - and an introduction to the rest of the day!