Cleaning, Cycling, and Calming Down

This morning I woke up before 8 a.m., which is at least one and a half hours earlier than I'd usually manage on a Saturday. Everyone else was asleep, I closed the windows to shut in the cold night air and closed the curtains to block out the heat later in the day, and then I started a rather half-hearted semi-Edwardian routine. Working all day in the kitchen in 30+ degree weather, cooking, seemed like something no self-respecting Edwardian would have done except in rare circumstances.

Instead I hand-washed a few dishes that don't belong in the dishwasher, took out the compost and the regular garbage, scrubbed perhaps half of the floor in the kitchen, and in the end made a pot of black tea while my mother woke up and went to the bakery for our traditional weekend buns.

I also decided not to go to the market this week. Instead I went to the organic grocery store closer nearby, bought cucumber and tomatoes and iceberg lettuce for a salad, a cantaloupe, and ice cream etc. The ice cream was anachronistic, as nobody or almost nobody would have bought ice cream in a store and have had the facilities to keep it frozen; but we'd run out and I knew the family would appreciate it.

In the meantime I also read the Tale of the Very Bad Rabbit, which was an enjoyable installment of Beatrix Potter's oeuvre (The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher is probably my favourite so far). And then kept reading Weather by Jenny Offill, more of the index notes that keep me from officially saying that I've finished Barack Obama's A Promised Land, more of The Nickel Boys, and more of the essays in Apartheid.

At 3:40 p.m. I hopped onto my mother's bicycle (vowing yet again to get my own; I'm worried about breaking hers and also want to be more of a Strong and Independent Woman) and set off to a nearby park to meet one of my teammates. We circled around a long park, sunny and shadowy and not so terribly packed with people as the strong heat likely kept most people at home.

At least three wedding parties formed a festive assembly line waiting to be married at the town hall amongst the beer garden and the huge plane trees and the sparkling fountain. For once I didn't see any bocce ball players on the gravel terrain. White tents were pitched on the flowered green lawn to shelter others from the heat. Then children's parties were being celebrated further on in the park, with balloons and a happy profusion of people. (So much better than the peak-social-distancing wasteland.)

My sunscreen, helmet, and the tree leaves shielded me from sunburn; but I ran my arm under cold water when I returned just to make sure. More importantly it was tremendously nice and relaxing to meet the colleague again, outdoors with the air and light circulating healthily, without masks.

And I cut short my Edwardian experiment after 6 p.m., because I wanted to watch the Germany vs. Portugal soccer game. Maybe I am finally getting a life again — I've been so miserable lately that I know I have to change something — but I kind of doubt it. An article about legos (an ill-omened leitmotif in our company?) being a metaphor for workplace resources inspired me to flip out at work on Friday, perhaps because I'd already worked 8 hours of overtime that week; and while I know I have reason to be concerned about things, I'm still trying to find a better outlet for my feelings and just to let things go if I've given my honest opinion and it's not my responsibility to act further.