It is cold; the day feels like night due to the darkness, and it seems to be trying to rain. Although it is not raining yet, it is attempting to.
I was going to walk along the cut- the canal until I reached a place where I used to work for a man when I was 10 or 11 years old. Quasimodo was his nickname; he was a short, slightly obnoxious, humpbacked man with a boatyard beside the canal on the way to the Stewponey.
His house was part of the boatyard, situated on the same land. In addition to the boatyard, where barges and longboats were constructed, there was a ramp for launching the boats into the canal. A pier along the canal allowed the boats to be berthed in front of the boatyard and his property.
There, I learned how to oxyacetylene cut and weld steel and essentially build steel barges and long boats, etc. Quasimodo was a real-life character; working with him was quite an experience. Until the end of my stay in England, I intend to visit and see his place; I do not expect that he is still alive as he was already old then, and even if he were, I wonder if he would remember me.
As it was too dark and overcast to walk all that way, I decided to stay local and walk along the canal. I completed my usual round trip to feed the ducks and swans before catching a bus to Kingswinford and probably walking back.
When I arrived in Kingswinford, I walked around the main square. Since it was Sunday, most places were closed. I couldn’t help but think that if I were in Rio, everything would likely be open because it was the week before Christmas.
I decided to go to Wetherspoons—The Cross Pub, the largest pub in the region, on one of the corners of the main crossroads in the village. Wetherspoons is one of the largest pub chains in England. I had been there a week ago for fish and chips with my mother, and it was quite nice.
It is essentially a British fun pub designed to generate substantial profits through drinks and food. Prices are lower than those of the competition, albeit with little personality or personal service. This is in stark contrast to Brazil, where, although the organisation can be poor and lacking at times, personal service is abundant.
The pub offers a great variety of beers, particularly craft beers. I plan to order half a pint of a few different types while enjoying some simple food. I’ll also take this time to relax, send messages to everyone in Brazil, and keep everything updated.
I ordered half a pint of lager; it was good.
Then, I had a glass of Merlot red wine. It seems that everyone is selling this wine here in England. After that, I had two more half pints of IPA, Indian pale ale. I sent Mario a photo of the beer, and he replied. I also messaged Nalva, Jessica, and Yasmin, and they all responded, so everything seems to be alright in Brazil.
Everything in the pub was reasonably good—nothing exceptional, but certainly good. Here, you pay each time you go to the bar to order. It is quite the opposite as in Brazil: you run up a tab and only pay when you leave. I left the pub feeling lightheaded; I’m not used to drinking anymore, but as it’s Christmas and I’m in England, it won’t hurt.
Walking back to my mother’s, a walk of about 3 kilometres, I stopped at a flower shop and bought my mother a small bunch of wildflowers with a note thanking her for the dinner out last night.
When I returned, I gave her the flowers, but I felt she was so surprised by receiving such a kind gesture and some affection that she didn’t know how to accept them.
I sometimes feel that when someone voluntarily compliments, praises, or shows me some form of affection, it is difficult for me to acknowledge or accept it. Is it a feeling of suspicion, a lack of self-worth, and is it also something familiar for many people, or is it just me?
Many individuals struggle with self-esteem and self-worth, and it is crucial to manage these feelings and assign value to ourselves.
I tried to talk to Yasmin a lot about this while I was living in Copacabana, but it became more difficult after I moved to Botafogo. I couldn’t do much before travelling to England, but I would like to help Yasmin with this when I return to Brazil as a teenager.
If we are not mass murderers, rapists, or downright despicable and dishonest people, it is only natural for us to recognize our worth and value. Sometimes, this is difficult because we carry traumas from childhood that still affect us today.
However, we must overcome these traumas and understand them. By doing so, we not only become better individuals for ourselves but also others. This understanding enables us to live a better life, where being good to ourselves allows us to achieve our goals and reach our full potential.
The rest of the day, I rested, spent some time with my mother, and was in bed by 11:00 p.m.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
