An Element of Surprise


Image by congerdesign from Pixabay

One of the great joys of retirement for me has been to avoid, so far as possible, routine, revelling in flexibility and the potential for impetuosity and the opportunities that brings. Sadly, coronavirus and especially the restraints of lockdown have very much brought that previous way of living to a close, at least temporarily.

Somehow, routines have now crept into daily life and, a little like my days in the office, it's once again coffee at 11am and tea at 4pm. Mornings begin with a rigorous trawl of the newspapers online and then a Pilates session  to a YouTube video before pottering in the garden and, every evening, time is devoted to watering plants and shutting up the greenhouse for the night. Obviously there have been unexpected diversions with telephone conversations, walks through and around the village and the excitement of watching seedlings grow, flower and, as now, begin to bear fruit or rather vegetables.

However, and after more than 3 months, let's be honest it's beginning to get just a little bit samey. It's not that I'm bored, far from it, but I am having to dig deep into my reserves to find the spontaneous fun and innovative experiences that I have come to associate with retirement.

A saviour in this respect has been home deliveries. Early on in lockdown we signed up with local organic suppliers for both dairy and fresh produce. Whilst the milk itself does not vary, the time of delivery (anywhere between 3.30 and 6.00 a.m) does. Imagine the anticpation; will we hear him; if it's a warm night will one of us go down to move the delivery to the fridge; in so doing, will they wake the other? I'm not kidding, every night is Christmas Eve with stockings stuffed by Santa Claus when you have a milkman.

None of that, however, comes anywhere close to the excitement released by delivery of our mixed fruit and vegetable sacks. We literally pounce on them seeking to discover the bounties that await and indeed whether or not we can even identify everything. Where but in lockdown would I have ever baked Sorrel Tart or sauteed radishes? Is that really a red kuri squash? Globe artichoke for lunch, perhaps. Will the carrots have their fern leaves on them this week or not? Just how many onions can we eat  and where's that cabbage we'd begun to rely on?

It seems that not only has preparing food become one of the major highlights of our life in the pandemic but its delivery too has managed to pep up what might otherwise be a monotonous lull. Cardoon instead of celery, chard instead of spinach, vague evidence of soil or pests: the element of surprise in retirement is still there after all. We're just delving a little differently to find it.

Comments

Mona McGinnis said…
I'm always surprised when I'm asked what my plans are for the weekend, next week, the summer. The bottom line is - I have no plans. Like you, I'm encouraged by the little things - the first blooms on the irises, the budding peonies that needed to be staked, the day lilies that the deer didn't eat, the first bloom on the cacti. Meal planning and food prep is one thing I can control; something to look forward to that provides some bit of novelty like the rhubarb bread pudding I made yesterday. I'm anticipating the first beans and peas from the garden. I realized that these seasonal offerings are carrying me through this pandemic response.
Caree Risover said…
I have to say rhubarb bread pudding sounds enticing. Another potential adventure in the kitchen now for this house too.
Treaders said…
I don't know, I quite like routine I've discovered, although I may have scheduled a little too much "routine" into my life in the way of classes/courses. It has been rather nice having all my classes cancelled during lockdown in a way in that I have so much free time, but I don't know that I would go for totally unscheduled!
Caree Risover said…
You’re right, there’s always a bit of routine although in normal times I do try to shake up my classes etc.. I guess it’s a fine line between acceptable routine and regimentation but I’m sure I’ve crossed the boundary of late. That said, I’ve read so much recommending a routine rhythm to the day as a way to cope with lockdown that perhaps it’s a good thing. If so, however, why am I starting to feel shackled to a timetable?
Pat WD said…
You make me very curious to try a local CSA... that's what we call the local veggies boxes from the farm. I'm wondering if I'd know what to do with half the veggies, but that would be the fun. Might be too late to do one this summer, but I'm going to put it on the possibilities list for next year!
Caree Risover said…
Had to look up that acronym, as I thought it might be an equivalent for our Soil Association that certifies food as organic. It’s a bit like growing your own: grown without the use of chemicals and picked closer to the table, it appears to have more taste as well as the claims of being better for you. Ours will be supplied all year round, so we are steeling ourselves for a diet of turnips come the winter!

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