Slowing Down

It occurred to me the other day that maybe ... just maybe ... there's a slight possibility ... that my life is other than 'ordinary' (whatever that might mean).  Sundays apart - do you remember the 'Keep Sunday Special' campaign? I'm a firm believer in that - I spend most of the other six days in the week sitting at my desk.  

I suppose, if you take out the time spent away for the essentials of living, like preparing and eating meals, washing, a minimal amount of cleaning, and a couple of hours relaxing in the evening, I probably aggregate about three-quarters of my waking hours in that one corner of my dining room that I laughingly call 'the office'.

And what do I do there?  One segment of my time is devoted to the work that I referred to last week, playing my part in a process of turning printed scriptures into digital format for missionary use.  An growing second chunk is becoming absorbed by my recently having taken on the duties of church treasurer, predominantly the preparation of last year's accounts, but increasingly picking up the threads of week-by-week routines of the current year.

Then there's a fairly constant sliver of 'administration': maintaining records of personal finances, energy costs, records of my car mileage and fuel (a hangover from my professional life when this was a necessary part of my annual accounts), and so on.  And finally, any time that's left gets taken up by my family history researches, which vary from a couple of quite intense days to not touching them for weeks on end, depending what else might be going on.

And amongst all this, is what has become a daily mantra, "Oh gosh, I haven't done any Welsh!"  For almost 900 days in the last three years, I have been studying this, the only language designated by Act of Parliament in this United Kingdom as an 'Official Language'.  For this latest iteration of my learning - I gave up the Teach Yourself book-I used when I first retired, upon realising that it is some 50 years out of date - I owe a debt of gratitude to a lady named Portia.

I met Portia in Llandrindod Wells, when I was helping with the by-election campaign that saw Jane Dodds elected as the MP for Breckon & Radnorshire just a few months before the 2019 General Election.  Portia sat at the desk behind me in the office and she introduced me to a wonderful on-line system called Duolingo.  Apart from being an effective teaching medium, it has the advantage of being free (although there are enhancements resultant upon payment of a fee that I've never explored).  The downside is the compulsive element, which demands daily attendance, upon penalty of paying a forfeit in the on-site currency that is built up by passing regular targets and milestones in one's progress.

Although I'm only just over halfway through the course, I'm finding this pressure increasingly burdensome and I'm thinking of abandoning this discipline once I hit that 900 day achievement.  That isn't to say I shall stop learning.  I was given a wonderful selection of Welsh books before leaving Letchworth, and I shall take a more leisurely look at some of these, making use of the skills I've already learned to advance at a more gentle pace in the coming months.

And what, you may well be asking, has brought forth this exercise of self-assessment?  Quite simply that which the Welsh call annwyd, viz. the common cold.  I set out as usual this morning with a finite set of targets and, as I sat down with some relief for my 'chill-time', I reeled off a list of things that I'd just not been able to fit into my day.  I'm writing this during the week, of course, and I'm hopeful that - suitably dosed up - life will be back to normal by the time you read this, but a little objective reflection is never a bad thing if not taken too far.