Wednesday, 22 April
St George’s Day today, the presumed day of the saint’s death and the closest that England has to a national day. When I lived in England, you didn’t notice it much apart from the church flying England’s flag, St George’s Cross. And this year, it will presumably be rather muted if Morris dancers are threatened with on-the-spot fines for tinkling and jigging in the streets. And St George’s Day in the church calendar has in any case been postponed a week (because of the date of Easter this year). It’s a movable feast as one church dignitary said (probably with an avuncular (or materterical?) twinkle in hisher eye).
I decided to postpone my planned architectural bicycle ride until post-Corona. I was planning to look at residential buildings from the 1920s and 1930s by Gunnar Leche, city architect in the near suburbs of the city. It would be interesting to look at the architectural details and see how one period shades into the next (from National Romantic to Classicism (Swedish Grace) and then Funkis architecture.
But thinking about it – controlling my bike, looking out for other traffic, avoiding people, checking my architecture book and finding good spots to take photographs, I decided that it was probably a disaster waiting to happen and that I would neglect at least one if not more of these aspects from time to time with more or less chaotic results..
My attempt to structure the day went well. I had a list of things I wanted to do in my working day with the key focus on continuing to weed out the company’s files, which had swollen rather haphazardly for the past 15 if not 20 years, and to make the distinction between the different files clearer.
I stopped working when I cooked my evening meal. I’d planned to spend the evening doing some Bengali but I got tempted to reorganise my books as I’ve decided to try to avoid buying another bookshelf (hard to position it without blocking the light from the window, which is already partly obscured).
Some work came in today so tomorrow and Friday will be real work days.
Just checked the date and thought that my computer had got it wrong but it’s in fact 00.35 on Thursday, 23 April, which I don’t understand as it was 20.00 about half an hour ago…. That means that it wasn’t St George’s Day when I wrote the above as it was the 22nd then. I somehow doubt whether there will be any tinkling or jigging today either..
2 thoughts on “Corona Diary, Day 38”
Happy St George’s day – whenever it is/was!
Thanks, the same. It’s all over now anyway and passed without ado in my self-imposed isolation. I do have some jelly in my fridge which I couldn’t resist buying in the English shop in Gamla Stan but I’ll save that for another occasion.