Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 6 degrees, cold, grey, grim and very damp.
It was bitterly cold overnight, and at 7 in the morning, the temperature was -1 °C. I got up, washed, and put on clothes to exercise out on the patio in the back garden again.
Today has seemed much colder than yesterday, and my skipping rope seemed shorter than usual. Then I realised that maybe due to the cold and the fact that I hadn’t used it properly for two or three months, it might have shrunk.
I’m not a physicist, but I believe that even plastic shrinks when exposed to cold temperatures. Yesterday, I wasn’t able to skip for extended periods because the rope seemed too short; it was hitting my feet all the time.
I tightened the rope around my hands on both sides. I put the middle under my feet on the ground, then pulled back with hands and arms, stretching the rope, being careful not to stretch it too much and snap it. It worked; after repeating it various times, it seemed longer, and I was able to skip like I was in Rio.
Recapping: Yesterday, I had a problem with skipping, which I believe was due to the rope being too short from the cold weather and lack of use. The next day, the issue was resolved, at least I don’t have to buy a new rope, just stretching it a little every time before skipping.
In life, problems often appear out of nowhere, and instead of despairing in that moment, let time help sort them out. After the situation arises, give it time, and the solution will emerge. Now I know what to do every time before skipping in England in the cold.
Again, problems and difficulties appear all the time; focusing on them is important, they don’t resolve themselves, but time helps a lot. Time is a healer. Give time to your problems; time resolves almost everything.
Later in the morning, I went to the village green to donate a woman’s handbag to a charity shop that my mother no longer wanted. It is not an ugly bag, just a little flashy for my mother’s taste. They thanked me for the donation, but I didn’t stay to see if anything was interesting.
I went to the supermarket to buy some things for home. On the way home, I stopped by Luke’s, the simpler cafe of the village, the one-man band cafe on the High Street, which my mother prefers to the more sophisticated one on the green in the centre of the village.
I like the one on the green principally because of the waitress, but I also like Luke’s, as the people who go there are real living characters and legends, so we always have a laugh.
There with Luke, I ordered two bacon and mushroom sandwiches to take away. My mother likes hers well done, mine medium rare. Coming back to England has reminded me how good, simple to cook, yet delicious they are.
Obtaining fresh mushrooms in Rio is almost impossible; usually, you buy them bottled with preservatives in some concoction to be used in a dish like stroganoff, and with little to no taste. Simply frying or braising fresh mushrooms is enough to excite even the most jaded taste buds; they are truly amazing.
If I buy land in Terasopolis, a mountainous area outside of Rio, in the future, I may consider farming mushrooms, as fresh mushrooms are not readily available. This could be a revolution, a tsunami in Brazil.
While waiting for the sandwiches, I chatted with Luke and some other customers, as they had seen me a couple of times and were curious to ask questions. People are always surprised when I say, “I am from around here.” It’s hard for them to believe that I am a native of the area because of my accent, simply because I have lived more abroad, in another country — namely Brazil — than in the Black Country.
Saying that I am a Brummie, a native of the Black Country, which was once the heart of England’s Industrial Revolution, and when men were men, life was hard and people were very good, with clear, definite principles, which sometimes, today, is not the case.
My brother has always been proud of being a Brummie and of having the distinctive accent and slang associated with the region, but I have never had it. Moreover, since my early 20s, I had already left the country, so nowadays I have a more broken English, where my accent is not as clear. Sometimes people say that they can hear A bit of a Brummie accent in certain situations, they may be right, but I’ve never listened to myself to know.
Sometimes I feel like an alien in Rio and now in my hometown as well. I have been a nomad for all this time, and I wasn’t aware of it. People are often curious about those who come from a different background. I am always welcomed and treated kindly, which makes the exchanges even more interesting and enjoyable. It’s not that I see myself as special or superior; it’s just that, having spent more than half my life in another country, life took me in that direction.
It was not a conscious decision; instead, it was a deliberate choice to work with boats and possibly establish a business between Brazil and Europe, most specifically England. However, to say that I consciously decided in the past to stay in Brazil for more than 35 years would be a lie.
I think I’ve only stayed so long because of my daughters, Jessica, who was born 30 years ago, and Yasmin, 16, so I’ve always had the obligation and responsibility to stay in Brazil. My father left us when we were young, and I always said to myself in the past that if I were to be a father, I would never abandon my children, and that’s what I’ve done.
I am enjoying my stay in England, more than I had expected and now is the time to decide what is next. My intuition was already telling me, and, funnily enough, in the evening, my mother asked me what my plans were.
I told her that I still hadn’t decided when to return, but if she wanted me to go, I would. I am finding myself here, but I don’t want to wear out my welcome. There are still things that need to be done or bought, and I’m not sure if my mother’s health is good enough for her to be on her own again so quickly.
Tomorrow will be February, and with it, I will use my walks to reflect on and seek solutions, plans, and answers.
In bed by midnight.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
