Traditions are for the making!

 New Normal, Day 3, Wednesday

There is something deeply satisfying in being in on the creation of a new customary procedure.  Especially as I had little or nothing to do with its physical creation, I merely curated it into existence.

     Sitting outside the Liceu on my shooting stick, propped up against the railings leading down into the Metro, just before by time slot for entry to the first Covid restricted performance of an Opera for ages, I received a phone call from a friend in Cardiff.  It has to be said that actually making and receiving phone calls on my mobile phone is one of the least important functions as far as I am concerned.  And that lack of interest in the ostensible raison d’être of the machine shows itself in my customary total confusion if the thing actually rings.  As I always have the phone set to mute, it is a chance in a thousand that I ever get to realize that a call is occurring, and then answering it with the correct finger movements on the screen makes the likelihood of it being successful even less likely.  However, this call sort-of worked and I found myself talking to SQB.

     Not only did we manage (eventually) to converse, but also she managed to send me photos of cards that she had been making for charity, I instantly ordered some to be sent to me in Castelldefels, together with a selection of tree decorations that she had also made.

     Even before the cards arrived I began to formulate plans for them which did not include merely putting them in envelopes and sending them off to other people.  The end result was that I selected four of the cards that SQB sent and took them off to be framed.  I now, therefore, have a square grouping of four of the cards in a bright red Christmas surround in a gold metallic frame.  And it is now up on the living room wall as part of our Christmas festivities.  And will be a recurring part of Christmas from now to the end of time.  A tradition is born!  Thanks, SQB!

     This means that SQB now has a third entry in my Catalogue Raisonné, which, by the way is going from strength to strength with almost 40 works of art listed, not including some books, pottery and a fluffy bunny.  My catalogue will be nothing if not eclectic.

     I have still not decided what I am actually going to ‘do’ with the catalogue.  The one clear practical result of my starting it, has been that I have re-examined what I have, and have at least started the process of moving some of the paintings around and bringing others out of storage and onto the walls.

     In one case, that of my paternal grandfather’s First World War medals, I have discovered that I have had them framed in the ‘wrong’ order.  My grandfather was in that bloody conflict (wounded but not killed, in spite of the best efforts of that bastard Haig’s battle ‘plans’ {sic} [!]) from the start and was therefore awarded the 1914-1915 Star, as well as The British War Medal and The Allied Victory Medal.  That order is the order in which they were usually worn and I suppose it should have been the order in which they were framed, left to right.  He was also given the Abergwynfi and Blaengwynfi Commemorative War medal, a rather different looking medallion, and I have no idea where that should have gone in the sequence – probably at the far right.  I have always regretted that I did not have a contemporary photograph of my grandfather framed with them.  One does exist showing him wearing his metal helmet in a jaunty and, for the army, in a totally inappropriate way.  Perhaps my finding out the order was ‘wrong’ gives me an opportunity to have them reframed with his photograph giving the lifeless pieces of metal some sort of personal humanity.

     I think that my underlying intention of compiling the catalogue was to use it as a basis for further writing: the stories or thoughts that go with each piece.  Some of the works of art have obvious ‘stories’ – at least to me – while others are perhaps more subtle in the way that they can lead on to other more tangential considerations.  Who knows?  See where it goes.

 

When cycling along the paseo, for no particular reason snippets of songs come into my mind.  They are rarely of my generation of popular songs (whatever generation I think I might be a member of) they are more usually odd lines from the songs that my parents sang.

     One of the songs, that I often think I would choose to be part of the “What my parents gave to me” part of the radio 4 programme on a Saturday morning, the sort of legacy music that you pick up because your parents chose to sing it.

     I do not remember the whole of the song, but the lines I do remember and they were the ones that stuck in my mind for most of my cycle, in the way that earworms do, were:

“From New York to the state of Maine

They went in search of more cocaine

Oh, honey have a [sniff] have a [sniff] on me

Honey, have a [sniff] on me!”

One of reasons that the song stays with me, is that the [sniff] part was an actual sniff and not the word.  I thought that was very good.  At that age (less than 8 years old) I had no idea what cocaine might have been, and the fact that the two main (ill-fated) characters in the ballad were called Cocaine Bill and Morphine Sue, and it really doesn’t end well!

     A few questions present themselves: which version of the song did my parents know?  How did they know it?  Why were they singing it in the hearing of a seven-year old?  I do remember that I used to join in with the chorus with the sniffing!  Ah, the innocence of ignorance.

     Doing a very small amount of research, it is amazing how many people have covered versions of the song, or composite fragments of a few songs, including names revered in Blues and Folk.  But it is still a remarkable snatch of song to graft into your child’s mind!  And before anyone gets the wrong idea, my parents were respectable non-drug taking folk!  A pipe and Australian sherry were their vices! 

     And singing inappropriate songs, as I have just remembered another favourite that I loved hearing because of the ending, was Frankie and Johnny, where after shooting her double-timing man, Frankie is strapped to the electric chair and “sparks flew out of her hair” he was her man, but he done her wrong, as the song puts it so forcefully, so justice had to be done! 

     O! the unfairness of life!  Such valuable lessons to teach a child.

 

 

 

New Normal 3? 4? 5? – Who knows? Day 1, Monday.

 

 

 

The first swim for weeks!

     It was only after I had jumped in that I realized how much I had missed this particular form of daily exercise.  There is something about the enveloping support of lukewarm water that is immensely satisfying.  Even my rudimentary warm-up exercises seemed to bring neglected muscles back into play, and the swim itself was ‘easy’ – not without effort you understand, but comfortable and known.  I swam 1600 metres and could have swum more, but the temptation of a café made cup of tea and bocadillo were irresistible and so I had my just reward for early morning effort and sufficient ‘fuel’ for the bike ride to Port Ginesta and back.

     There are changes to what used to be the changed routine of pre-this-lockdown.  Although the numbers for swimming are the same (maximum of ten pre-booked people per hour spread over five lanes) we are now no longer allowed to put our clothes in the lockers provided, we have to take them with us to the pool side.  We are no longer allowed to shower after the swim.  We can use the poolside showers immediately before and after the swim, but an extended shower with soap in the changing room is no longer acceptable.

     In the café attached to the pool, the door is constantly open to facilitate a greater flow of air; part of the seating area has been taped off to keep within the 30% capacity and the tables that are in use have been more widely spaced out.  The terrace space can be fully utilized, but although bright and sunny, this is no weather for sitting outside.

     Masks must be worn in all areas of the centre except when eating and drinking.  This does not apply to smokers for reasons that I cannot fathom.  Why should leeway we allowed to those with a filthy and dangerous habit?  In a centre dedicated to health and exercise!

     I have to admit that I felt mildly exhilarated after my bike ride – exercise – swim – exercise - tea and bocadillo - bike ride!  I think it was more to do with getting back into an almost forgotten regime than the beneficial effect of more effort than usual over the past few weeks.

     I even managed to scribble down a few comments and ideas in my notebook, though I think that their more than usual mundanity means that they have little chance of being worked up into something more substantial.  But at least notes were made!

     Carles (the man who swims in the lane next to me and is a keen learner of English) was keen to find out different ways of expressing ‘death’, so I compiled a list of expressions off the top of my head ranging from “snuffed it” to “shuffled off this mortal coil”, though Carles was more interested in “passed away” and “taken by god” as being more relatable to Catalan/Spanish and using English words with which he was familiar.  I also gave him “kicked the bucket” to think about, which took a great deal of explaining and made me wonder just where the expression came from and why.

     And of course, I could not resist and I have just looked up the possible derivations and now possess more information than is usefully necessary in connection with the expression.  For the sake of brevity, I will go with the suggestion that the bucket was something kicked away from under the feet of a person about to be hanged.  But there is much more if you care to look!

 

 

 Not only is today the first time for weeks that I have been able to have a swim in the local pool, it will also be the first time that we will be able to go to a restaurant and have a menu del dia.  Replete with masks and tubes of hygienic, alcohol-heavy hand wash, we will venture into the centre of town and re-patronize one of our favourite restaurants Olave.

     While the food is generally good to excellent, the usp for me is the fact that they provide Catalan bread, i.e. toasted bread with ripe tomatoes and garlic to squeeze and scrape.  Sometimes this bread is the best part of the meal!

     To be frank, we are so eager to get back into the habit of eating out, that virtually anything will be a treat!  Though, I have to say that it is relatively easy to find a more-than-acceptable meal at a reasonable cost in Castelldefels.  While that is true, I also have to admit that my standards have risen appreciably since I have lived here.  When I first arrived, the delight I felt at virtually anything that was put in front of me meant that my critical gastronomic abilities were somewhat deadened.  Now, I am more demanding – much to Toni’s satisfaction, as he feels that I am getting more and more attuned to what is best in Catalan cooking.  Though sincerely liking the lumpen, solid fat of fuet is still a major stumbling block to my wholesale acceptance of Catalan cooking and food as the ideal!

Tracking exercise makes it real!

 New Lockdown, Third Week, Sunday

 

 

 

 

Even colder this morning, though still stubbornly bright and sunny.  For the first time this year I could have done with something more substantial than sandals on my feet – but I will persevere.  Last year I wore sandals throughout the year and I will attempt to do the same this year too!

     On the exercise front, tomorrow is the first day for weeks that I will be able to go to the local (indoor) pool to do my customary metric mile.  That means that I will be getting up at 6.15 to be ready for the first swim at 7 am.  In spite of the weeks of enforced lie-ins that I have been able to enjoy, I haven’t.  Enjoyed them that is.  My internal clock is set for an early rise and my staying in bed seems forced and unnatural.  That is not to say that I get up that early with a merry whistle and a song in my heart – but I do feel better for it.  Eventually.

     Getting up that early does mean that I set off on my bike in the dark to get to the pool.  I always think that gives an extra bonus point on the “if it’s more difficult it must be doing you good” principle, and you do feel a certain smugness at wobbling your way along a generally deserted road with only a single beam to light to guide you through the darkness.

     It will be a relief to get back (literally) into the swim of things.  And, I think if my reading of the new regulations is correct, the café of the pool will be open for me to take my cup of tea at the end of my swim and just before my bike ride.  That little part of ‘normality’ is enough to make me somewhat satisfied.

     Talking of normal and new normal, the central government has been setting out their plans for the mass inoculation of the population.  Just talking about plans like this is encouraging, it gives the impression that we are now on some sort of roller coaster of administrative functionality where everything will just slip into place and everything will be hunky-dory by the Spring of next year – or that might be just one of the ‘saving lies’ that I tell myself to keep myself sane.  Hard to tell if it’s working!

 

 

 

 

One of the problems that face the modern technologically aware person is what watch face to have on your smartwatch.  Do you stick with conventionality and get something which looks like a digital rendering of an expensive watch face, sometimes with the logo of an expensive watch worked into the design?  Or do you go with the technology and have some all-colour over-informative face where the mere time is almost an extraneous detail in a wealth of numbers, colours, bar charts and moving bits?

     In early iterations of my present watch, a Fitbit, or possible Amazfit GR2, or something – the choice of faces was severely limited.  Yes, there was an option to customize the different elements that made up the face, but that was for the more advanced users who were not put off at the first signs of defeat.  I settled for a choice of the few designs that were built-in to the watch itself.  All you had to do was select, not create.

     You soon learned that what looked good in the app looked very different when it was portrayed by the limited number of pixels of your watch face.  Vibrant colours faded to insignificant pastels, and everything is so small!  With restrictions you soon found that even though there might be a dozen watch faces to choose, most were inadequate in some way or plain ugly.

     I tried to list what I wanted on a watch face apart from the time (and I had a series of ‘wants’ for the way that the time was displayed) and the essentials I decided that I did not want to do without were indications for: day, date, steps and battery power.  Anything else was extra and probably confusing.

     There is also the problem of the ‘always on’ aspect of the watch face.  Ever since the days of the good old Pebble watch, I have been used to an ‘always on’ face and very good battery life.  The Apple watch for example, always coming out the top or near the top of any list of ‘best’ smartwatches, has a battery life of a day, or more if you take all the power saving measures that make you wonder why you bought a smartwatch in the first place, if your discarded old self-winding watch gives you more!

     My present watch has an option for ‘always on’ but it does use up battery more quickly.  I have also found that not all watch face options are equal in their battery use, so I have set an ‘off’ period for the ‘always-on’ during the hours that I am asleep.  There is also a limited function for the ‘always on’ watch face when you are not using the watch as a smart watch.  At present all it shows is the digital time and an indication of PM.  If I twist my wrist then the screen bursts into full colour and all sorts of information is conveyed – including all of the elements that I consider essential.

     The problem with this watch is that, after the last update, there is now a superabundance of watch faces to choose.  I have meandered my way through them and chosen one or two to see what they look like in reality, but I have had to be stringent in my application of what I need and expect to allow me to reject the colourful blandishments of vulgarly attractive faces.

     My real problem is that, as far as watches are concerned, I am never satisfied.  Or you could say that is my real delight.  There is always the prospect of a new watch fulfilling all my present and future requirements and I will find watch buying peace.

     I hope not!

Christmas comes early!

 New Lockdown, third week, Saturday

 

 

 

 

This morning I unearthed my gloves before I set off on my bike ride.  And I needed them!  Although it was bright, it was cold and I was glad when my constitutional ride was over and I could have my cup of tea and a bowl of muesli as my reward. 

     The ride was made a little more exciting because the battery level was fairly low and when this electric bike does not have any power assistance it drives like a lump of clay – heavy clay.  Only once have I had the misfortune to run out of battery and even on level ground on the lowest gear setting it was hard bloody work!  So, instead of taking in the empty swathes of beach and the glittering expanses of sea, my attention was pretty much focused on the mobile phone sized screen that gives me information about my ride, and more particularly, how much battery life is left.

     To add to the gaiety of one’s concern the battery percentage is depicted in different colours with the last gasp of the machine being numbered in red.  For the whole of the return leg of my journey, the figures were in the red and I had to concentrate hard on other things rather than allowing my stress levels to be raised by wondering if I could make it back without wheeling the bike home.

     I did manage it, and even allowed myself the luxury of a higher power setting for the final few hundred metres, tempting my luck.  The bike is now drinking deeply on the outside power point and should be fully charged for my ride tomorrow.

 

 

Christmas (as I think is allowed in the wreckage of the year that calls itself 2020) has come a little early this year.

     Every year I debate whether to delve into the space under the eaves and exhume the artificial Christmas tree that is stored there.  It is a great deal of effort for something that takes up too much space in the living/dining room.  Where the tree used to go, the space is now occupied by Moppy, the Narwal machine that hoovers and mops automatically, well, robotically.  As the machine lives in a home station which is the size of a squat pedal bin, where it is, is where it stays.  So, we were presented with a problem.

     The solution came in the form of a small shelf that was erected by Toni to hold a fan, used to deflect the cigarette smoke from the next door neighbour who indulges her filthy habit sitting on the tiny balcony of her living room, then the prevailing breeze takes the mephitic miasma into our living room via the open windows.  As we don’t have aircon, open windows during virtually the whole of the summer and a chunk of the autumn are essential.

     The neighbours (on the mephitic side) are only there during the summer, so the shelf and the fan are not presently in use and the small shelf was calling out for a miniature Christmas tree – that Amazon has provided.  It came today and with the handmade decorations made (for Charity) by SQB it has now been decked out.  The lights are a string of those LED tiny lights powered by 3 AA batteries, and as I have rechargeable ones I think that we can be fairly profligate with the lights.  So, we have started now.  For the first time in my life, I have put up my Christmas tree, tiny and artificial as it might be, over a month before Christmas!

     The next festive thing to plan for in the putting up of the Belen, or nativity scene.  Over the years the characters that I have added to the basic Holy Family and a Cow have grown exponentially to include not only the Wise Men and Farmers, but also various other trades people and surrounding bits and pieces.

     But the bits and pieces of a Belen do not make up for what promises to be a strange Christmas.  Toni will want to see his family, but that doesn’t really look as though it is going to be possible safely.  All is still speculation and we have made no plans whatsoever.  We haven’t really discussed it apart from my asking in a fairly jocular way, “What do you want for Christmas Dinner?”  And we didn’t come to any real conclusions.  What is likely to change and get better in the next month?  Who knows?

 

I have started cleaning the glass of long ignored paintings and putting some of them up again.  The idea of a full re-hang is attractive, but the sheer effort in moving everything around is daunting and some paintings are too big to be moved easily.  I need more wall space!  Or, in my lottery dreams, a gallery with library and study on two levels with one of those ladders on rails to get at the higher books!

 

Monday will be the end of this particular lockdown and we will be able to go out for a meal and I will be able to go for a swim.  I don’t think that anyone is kidding himself that this is going to be anything like normality.  If we put all the ‘ifs’ together that we have been listening to, then some sort of vaccine should be rolled out in the New Year and the bulk of the population should have been inoculated by April.  That is, of course, the most optimistic view of the next five or six months.

     The logistics of getting viable vaccine to an entire population is daunting.  Given the way that most politicians have reacted to the pandemic, we have absolutely no optimism that things are going to be better than the chaos of the initial approaches.  But, there again, I am always optimistic and you never know, perhaps at last, this bloody Conservative government (UK) and the so-called ‘Socialist’ government of Spain can get their shit together.  For once.  I know that I am better off in Barcelona than I would be were I to be in Madrid!  For that, thanks!