I am not sure if it is an 'age' thing, or just 'being here', but I know that my 'problems' are deemed as small inconveniences by the younger generation. I remember my mother being 'put out' because her holiday was going to be cut short by a day, due to some trivial matter, and her whole world fell apart. Of course, my mother still worries herself about scenarios of scenarios of scenarios that might never happen, so I suppose it is not difficult to see why she felt as if it was a catastrophe. Writing this, I see that I am more like my mother than I realise! What appear to be my small inconveniences to my children, are catastrophes to me! However, I digress!
By the time the work day ended on Monday, not only was it much later than to that we have become accustomed, but it was raining. It was raining quite hard. "Going swimming?" asked Dana. I was unsure. On the one hand...., etc., etc. By the time I had finished weighing up the pro's and con's I could have made 'light work'! I decided that due to the lateness of the hour, and the coolness of the air, it was probably best to not go!
As the temperature had cooled considerably by the morning, I chose to walk instead of swim. It was a ridiculous idea! The water looked so inviting! "Not swimming this morning?" was a question, not a challenge, but I could not differentiate between the two! By the time I got into work on Tuesday morning, I was having to give myself a 'pep' talk!
My 'dabbling' in the arena of 'cookies' had led me to an alternative recipe for dinner on Wednesday. The 'Americanisation of Tracie', (spelled with an 's' rather than a zed,) has never really happened. My husband thought it would be very easy, but instead he has become more Anglicized! (Surprisingly with a zed!) His language has become tainted with slang, and words not acceptable (in years gone by) in mixed company. He has no idea what he is saying, sometimes! It is like watching a film when a character is trying to impress another by complimenting them in their own dialect, and realising they are actually insulting instead. However, once again, I digress! I was 'dabbling' with cookies! I decided to try a pot pie, using stale croissants instead of puff pastry. Preparing the chicken was like painting a masterpiece. I was in my own made up reality show, and opening up cupboards and draws to retrieve herbs and spices, dropping pinches of this, and shakes of that, humming and dancing, as if the cameras were rolling. "Can't act. Can't sing. Can dance a little", may have been comments from Fred Astaire's first screen shot, but the comments from my imaginary director was "What is she doing, and who does she think she is?" It is rather sad that when you are on your own, in your own kitchen, making up your own show, that the imaginary director is not on your side! However, I ignored him, and continued with my flicking and flinging. My masterpiece was set aside and my dough was cooling. Did I mention that I had made another batch of cookies? I don't know why either! It was a whim.
The water was freezing. I felt vindicated! However, there is a little bit of me that refuses to give up. Did I say a little bit?
Steph called me in the afternoon. Dana heard her voice and came running out of his room. Richard was with her on their sofa. After my husband and son extolled each other's virtues, and convinced each other they were the most handsome men in the world and how hard it must be for others to compete (something they have cultivated over time!) they left us girls to chat. Constantly thankful for the communication medium that is the internet, we set the world to rights. I had been to have my nails painted earlier and told Michele that Steph had cut her finger. Michele and Steph had been chatting for most of the day. There was a sense of excitement, despite decades of software and programmes allowing 'chat' across the world by means other than regular telephone land lines, as I thought how clever it was that my daughter in law, in England, could communicate with a colleague in the same professional field, across the ocean, without having to set up a time, a meeting, or secure a connection! The telegram has come a long way! I was a little tickled that I could still get excited over what is thought now to be simplistic technology as it is taken for granted! Obviously, not by me, as I treasure the ability to chat to my family whenever and wherever!
Simplistic as technology may seem, cooking a pie has been simplistic for women for decades, generations, centuries, even millennia. Yet, I failed! My beautiful creation came out of the oven and was not cooked! Imagine my despair as I had to put each plate, individually, into the microwave to cook the chicken! I was devastated! "It tastes good. The flavour is great", said one of my guests. "It was a good idea", said another. The pescatarian, who had the same dinner, but with fish instead of chicken, had finished his dinner before I had started mine. His was cooked! I tried to laugh, but realised my fictitious director had been right. What was I doing? I should have listened to him, instead of brushing him off as an amateur, a figment of my imagination! Admittedly, the dinner was good, after it was cooked through! We enjoyed left overs on Thursday!
I did have to wear the wetsuit on Friday. "Who's that?" would be the question. "Oh, that's the Englishwoman!" comes the answer. The 'die hard', the 'never give up'. The sexagenarian who should know better! My neighbours smile. The presume me to be eccentric, which is how they see me, but obviously they understand the fine line between genius and madness! I am on the cusp for them! Long may it last!
The week came to an abrupt end. It came upon us in a flash. The Saturday shopping trip was brief, but compact.
My afternoon was pleasant. This is the time of year where I would rather be doing something else, but I know the days are shorter, and my time to sit languishing by the pool are coming to an end. After my second swim of the day, I sat down to read my book. I dozed. When I awoke, I realised I was very cold, due to sitting in the shade, and once again moved to the sun. I dozed again. In order to wake myself up, I jumped into the pool again. I have never thought of myself as being a subject for cryotherapy, but here I was, frozen! I managed to break free, and came back to my chair to thaw out. Admittedly, it was not as cold as it has been, or could have been, but it was cold! I sat and read, and read, and read. Before I knew it, the time had flown by and the sun had gone down behind the trees, leaving me in a completely shaded area, soon to be a hive of activity for mosquitoes! Yes, I ran!
Dana and I enjoyed a pleasant meal at a lovely restaurant. The 'game' was playing on the television in the bar area, and whilst no one was sitting at the counter, everyone had their eyes glued to the sets. The Longhorns were being beaten and fighting to come back in what seemed an impossible scenario. However, as we know, scenarios of scenarios of scenarios that may never happen have been instilled into me! They did come back to tie the game, and won in overtime. The place erupted! It was wonderful! Dana said it was like sitting in a sports bar, and was not overly impressed. I told him we were in Austin, Texas, and we should embrace it! We could not have been more 'one', if we had been at the stadium. The cheers continued on every replay of that final scene, and everything was 'cool'.
The sun is out, but the clouds are merging. Autumn is winning! I wondered how mundane my life had become when all I do is swim and read at the weekend, and swim every morning and evening, and then I realised that one man's rubbish is another man's treasure. I do treasure the mundane existence, because it is not mundane. "Must be nice", I hear from family and friends when I say, "Not much. Went swimming twice, sat and read by the pool". I am blessed. Even as Autumn heads for the finish line without a real challenger, I know I shall be enjoying warmer temperatures for a while. Of course, I have my wetsuit should the temperatures dip below 60!
I don't have an agenda for next week, as is the norm, but I am sure something will crop up. It usually does! Whether or not it will be an amusing anecdote will have to remain a secret for ....... another story!
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