Thursday morning, decision made …. I would walk to work.
Stop laughing! I know I’m one of those people whose exercise means a good brisk sit. But it is more about saving gas! No sweat! (although those
words would come back to haunt me). I have been threatening to do this since I moved into my digs, hell, it’s only down the hill. Well, a little further than that.
So, banking on it being about 20 minutes, I left the house at precisely 8.34 a.m. Yes, I’m one of those people who don’t start work till 9, don’t know how I’d cope if I had to start earlier. n fact it was 25 minutes and that was walking relatively briskly … not enough to get a sweat up, but certainly not a dawdle.
The ‘to work’ was actually really nice. You see the weather wasn’t too warm. In saying that, who expects it to be hot at that time of the day, this is N.Z. not Aussie. Tide was in, so the scenery was one where you bless the fact that you’re alive. Plus the fact the the first part was downhill.
The fun part came on the return trip. By now it was hotter – 5 p.m. or, more precisely 4 p.m. if you wipe daylight saving out of the equation. It was pleasant enough going across the bridge even though the tide was now out and the sun still had some power in it. Then came the hill. The up-side (note the pun), was the fact that part of it was in shade. Even so, the sweat was starting, just from the heat not the exercise.
Then all at once I got a whiff of a lovely smell that shot me right back to my childhood. Palm Sunday – Google it if you’re not Catholic and don’t know – waiting in line at the Sunday mass to be issued with a palm frond which, in fact, had been picked from this type of bush…see photo below…and given out to each one of the devoted flock.
I loved the smell of that palm and every year, when I was a kid, it meant the same thing = it was only a week away before I’d be able to eat lollies again – Easter! Not only that, but I still had Good Friday to look forward to …. the one day of the year I could eat my fill of hot cross buns, plus going to our beach house for 10 days holiday!!!! Yes, we got time off school ‘cause it was holiday time for dad. I loved Palm Sunday.
So back to the 11th February 2016 and that smell. And if anyone can tell me the name of this plant in the comments below, I’ll be really grateful. The funny thing about this is that it’s not even a palm – doesn’t resemble anything like the palm fronds in the pictures that supposedly the crowd waved at Jesus, but, hey, it didn’t matter, I just loved the smell.
Because of that whammy back to my childhood, the rest of the hill climb was pretty darn easy. Although by the time I did get home I was pretty hot and went straight into the bathroom to throw some cold water over myself. Next job was to pour a glass of wine, wander over to the neighbour’s place and lounge out on their deck where my flatmate already was.
Next morning, however, I have to admit to feeling the burn in the gluteal muscles (google it if it’s not obvious where that is), and did hesitate on doing the walk again. But, as the old saying goes, “no pain no gain” I decided once again to don the walking shoes and head off. Wow – it was a hot walk. The temperature had risen quite considerably since the morning before and I was a little slower and ever so pleased with the bits of shade I did come across.
This time, however, I tried something different and that was to put the head-phones on and listened to a motivational recording. Was pretty good except when I’d get blocked out by a loud truck or bus going passed. At lunchtime, I downloaded an app for audio books which, hopefully, will keep the walk entertaining.
It being Friday the beers came out and, because I was walking and not driving, I ordered a wine!!!! Wheee, the guys wondered what had struck and when I said that I was walking home, one of the guys said wow, that’s a long walk to Katikati – cute, he didn’t know I’d shifted. Mind you, I did question the sensibility of drinking wine prior to a walk in the heat….up a hill. But, what the hell – for those of you who know me, you’ll know that I’ll try anything once.
Oh but how the gods look kindly on me. The boss’s wife turned up to have a Friday wine with us and she, and the guys, all thought it would be a much better idea for me to get a ride home. It was “no problem” she said, she lives “close by” she said, even “know your street” she said. So, what is a girl to do? The sensible thing – have another wine and get a ride home.
I have two more days – Monday and Tuesday that I can walk again. It will depend on the weather of course…don’t do rain, so here’s hoping it’s fine (or not too hot). Wednesday I’m off to house-sit. This means I’ll go back to parking a wee distance away to get some walking in.
If we look back in history, starting with medieval times, men’s clothing was quite out there with doublets, tights, breeches and cloaks. Then into the 16th century, well, that’s when the real flamboyance began with a right royal rivalry going on between King Henry VIII and Francis 1 of France. Now let’s be honest here, there was no doubting that it was a male dominant and blood thirsty world at that time and yet they had no problem dressing in silks, velvet, leather, lace and embroidery made from gold and silver. Even their hats had feathers and shoes had cut-out decorations. Nothing was too over the top at all.
Ha! it also means that I’m not forking out to the oil industry for gasoline, my Trev does take a bit, but he’s such a good Rav, old, like me, but still “got it”. Plus, yes there’s a plus for Trev, there’s not the wear and tear….the service won’t be so frequent either – save more!
