So, yes, today looked like it would be a total washout. I was facing the prospect of getting electrical work done at home, which meant the mains would be off for the better part of the day, for safety. Even with the fans on, the weather is quite warm and humid—imagine still air, sweating profusely.
Still, the work had to be done.
Of course I had a long list of things to do.
- Dust and mop (yep, I do that!)
- Send a batch of edits to an author
- Create the “F” posts for my three blogs for the AtoZChallenge
- Do some research for a topic I am working on
- Grind masala (yes, I had planned that, too, today)
- Bathe (low down the list because I dreamed of a long cold bath after sweaty work)
- Cook and eat
I make a list so that each time I take a break, I can tackle the job depending on the length of the break.
Well, as it happened, my electrician turned up promptly at 9.30 a.m. And switched off the mains, leaving me to look at my list and wondering which part to tackle. I valiantly decided I don’t need power to dust and mop and got to it. But oh boy, it was so warm I gave up after two rooms. Also, all the drilling on the wall would only generate more dust, so I left those rooms for later.
I could manage an hour’s work on the laptop and amazingly, finished the edits I had to send.
The rest of it had to wait, including the what the “F” posts.
As the time wore on, I found myself literally getting hot and bothered. I knew I had to look at the brighter side or else.
I just had to find the magic in the mundane.
I began by watching the electrician work. The sweat was flowing off him, and it bothered him not at all. He just stoically worked with the wiring, with focus. As I observed him, I calmed down. It got me thinking. He works in conditions like this on a daily basis—I mean he has to switch off the power wherever he works.
I immediately got up and made two tall glasses of buttermilk and offered him one. He accepted graciously, enjoyed it and got back to work.
I imagined the outcome of his work, which I would see three hours later. Two new switchboards, more convenient than the extension strips I was using. I imagined the happiness on my son’s and husband’s faces when they saw the completed job. I felt happy.
Feeling restless, I walked into the kitchen and decided to do the dishes. The water from the tap was hot. I remembered how my Mom would always feel excited about this, and smiling, I got to work. I enjoyed the feel of the scrub and the soapy water in my hands, as I scrubbed the utensils, washed them and put them on the rack to dry. As I washed each one, my fingers automatically felt around for the inscription on the side. Either my Mom’s name, or mine, or my Grandma’s. Which, of course, took me down nostalgia lane. I recalled, how, years ago, my Mom would scrub and I would wash, to save time, and then we’d quickly make coffee and park ourselves in front of the tv to watch a movie. I was pleased to see the glassware sparkling.
After I was done, I scrubbed the sink for good measure, squirted some soap and watched it bubble, catching the sunlight and looking like a million rainbows. As if on cue, I heard a sparrow chirp. How tweet!
I decided to sort the kitchen shelves and looked around me, sipping water, listing what I could do, since roasting was out of the question. I changed some of the containers, put away extra stuff. Took stock of what groceries I had. Which meant I could make a meal plan for the next seven days.
Feeling rather pleased, I thought I’d check on the electrician.
He was almost done with one switchboard. I asked him if he needed anything. Water. Yes. I watched him for a while, as he walked to and fro from his toolbox to the balcony to the work site. Strangely, it was calming!
I had somehow stopped worrying about my to-do list. It didn’t even bother me that my phone had to be charged and my laptop battery was almost drained.
All that mattered now was to appreciate what was happening around me and accept the flow.
By 3 p.m. the electrician was done with the job. I cleared his bill and plugged in my laptop, intending to take stock of what I could cover.
The doorbell rang. I opened it to find my friend and for the next half hour, we had a wonderful time chatting.
After she left, I figured I may as well go bathe. And between bathing and getting dressed, I answered several phone calls. All welcome ones. By the time I was finished, another close friend called to ask if I felt like a stroll around our market. How could I say no?
Just in time, I remembered to carry my mixer-grinder, whose – had broken, so I could get it repaired. Like two teenagers, we stopped at every shop that caught our fancy and bought some stuff. We strolled around, inhaling the mixed fragrance of the flowers being sold along the street.
Then we headed to the store to get the mixie repaired, and while that happened, we window shopped, ooh-ing and aah-ing over all the stuff we had no intention of buying.
Next stop was a food store that makes some delicious stuff. We bought a couple of our favorites there, hugged and went our ways—she to her house and I, to mine, with a promise of lunch early next week.
I literally skipped all the way home, like a happy little cuss.
As I fumbled with my key, I couldn’t help thinking what a wonderful day it had actually been, and a bit of a win-win, what with getting all sorts of things done.
I looked forward to enjoying my dinner and watching “Hot in Cleveland” and then, settling down to write today’s post, which I am doing right now.
Yes, I found magic in the mundane. What started off as a day of repairs and power cuts actually turned out to be memorable when I started to appreciate the little things.
Which was your favorite part of your day, today?
Did you find magic in the mundane?
F is for Family
F is for Fiber up!