I’m up early and exercising in the back living room and outside on the patio. I mentioned to Julie that it would be nice to take an early walk with Austin, her dog, along the canal.

She took it literally and called me to ask if I would like to do it this morning. I transferred one class to the next day in the morning at the same time; that wouldn’t be a problem, as I’m free then and I know my pupils’ schedules. The other pupils are either travelling or on holiday, so I will be free until 3:00 p.m.

Julie picked me up around 9:30. The sky was cloudy with rain threatening, but it hadn’t begun yet, and occasionally, the sun tried to shine through. When she arrived, Austin went wild when he saw me. He was too excited to stay in the back seat; he wanted to stand on my lap with his head out of the window, feeling the wind on his face.

Why do dogs like that so much?

As I have mentioned many times, my mother lives near the canal, and the paths along its edge are lined with all the flora and fauna of the English countryside. The greens and browns of the trees are quite remarkable.

It was essentially a drive around the block, and she parked the car in front of the open green park that adjoins the canal. As soon as we opened the car door, Austin sprinted onto the green. He was off. The weather was clearing up a little, so it was almost perfect conditions for a walk in England; in Brazil, it would still be too cold.

We crossed the green, which is quite large, and came to a basin that joins three canals together. To the left, towards Wordsley, is too near and too short a walk. To the right, towards Wollaston and Kinver, where I wanted to go, I wanted to show Julie where I worked as a teenager, building narrowboats on the edge of the canal. Unfortunately, a woman with a dog was heading in that direction, so we decided it would be better not to.

And straight in front led to Brettel Lane, where I lived when I was a very young child. ‘The Fish’, a well-known crossroads of the region, where my uncle lived and eventually to Stourbridge.

Since I have been back, I’ve taken this path many times; it is beautiful, but not as interesting as going right. However, because of the woman and the dog, we thought it better to proceed towards Stourbridge. Even though I know it like the back of my hand, it is still very beautiful and quite charming.

We passed in front of the back of the building that faces the canal of ‘Stourbridge Glass Works’, where my grandfather worked a long time ago. There was a large loading and unloading bay that was probably used one, two hundred years ago, with barges bringing and taking raw materials and finished glass to their rightful destinations.

It was an interesting view, a picture with a young man in the background. I called to him, and Julie was a little embarrassed by my boldness.

I asked some questions about the place, but the young man did not know. He then called his boss, who filled us in on the situation of the beautiful old works and his business. Now it is a steel furniture factory. I asked if I could visit it one day, and he said I was more than welcome.

I asked his name, we thanked Dave, and we continued on our way. We were nearly reaching Stourbridge and the Old Wharf, where we had been last weekend, so we decided it was best to start heading back. It was not necessary to visit the ‘Old Wharf’ again at this moment, as we had already been there recently.

When we returned to the basin, we faced two options: either go back to the car or take a detour to the right, towards the red cone, the old glassworks, and the regional museum.

The police had blocked the street for some reason, so we had to walk around it further. Although it was not planned, we entered the ‘Red Cone’ Glass Culture complex. Although it is not as impressive as it could be, it is still very interesting.

At the back of the complex, hidden and overshadowed by the enormous, red, cone-shaped chimney, was a coffee shop —a café that was open until just before Christmas. I had gone once, but now it is closed. I showed Julie the potential of the place; for me, it needs a lot of marketing, but it could be a nice little business with a lot of potential.

It was starting to rain; we were about a mile from the car and slightly further to Julie’s café. We headed to Luke’s café, and I took Julie to meet her rival from the other café, to meet Luke, but he was not there. Dan was there, who frequents both cafés; his mother owns a local pub on the same street.

Dan is disabled, talks loudly, and can sometimes be a little aggressive and rude in his words, but he’s not a bad person. We talked, laughed, joked, had coffee, and Dan asked us if we were a couple, to which I replied that it was only sex, to stop the questions and avoid going into more detail. We paid and left, finally arriving back at the car in light rain.

We said our goodbyes, and Julie and Austin were off back home. What a lovely morning!

The rest of the day was spent giving classes until late and preparing blog posts. My mother spoke to me about adopting a dog; she wants to visit the local dog shelter to look at some dogs, now that the idea has been planted in her mind. I want to adopt a greyhound; this is my top priority if I stay in England.

It seems that everything is coming together, even though much is still missing, and the path will likely be very rocky, but that’s okay.

In bed by midnight.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Thursday, the 4th of April 2024: “A Morning Canal Walk”!!! first appeared on The Long Gringo.

Today was supposed to be a productive day. I aimed to prepare and draft three or four blog posts.

However, that didn’t happen. I managed to prepare one in the morning, but I either got delayed or distracted for the rest of the day.

Nalva thinks that she has got COVID, so I had to go out to get medicine. Afterwards, I had a late lunch. Yasmin had a friend’s birthday party at a bar/restaurant in Botafogo, so Nalva and I took Yasmin there and then walked back to Flamengo.

I find it very easy to talk to people while walking. When I lived in Copacabana, Yasmin and I had our best conversations on our street walks. I have had various girlfriends, and on weekends, whether we were walking along the beach or through the countryside, we had great, meaningful conversations.

Walking home with Nalva was no different from any other occasion. We started talking, and at times, we found ourselves arguing. Our conversations often became heated as we discussed Yasmin, our current situation, the past, and the future.

It felt like I was finally able to release the weight off my chest, addressing the turmoil that had been troubling me for the last twenty years. I confronted everything that had upset me, my experiences as a father, my time as a husband, and my role as an ex-husband now.

Nalva also shared her thoughts with me, even when they contradicted what I said. This was a good thing; it gave me the chance to express what I had been carrying for so long.

It wasn’t part of any plan, nor was it something I had deliberately thought about doing. It was just something crowding my mind, and I needed to let it out to feel relieved. It happened naturally, and afterwards, I felt much better.

She mentioned something Yasmin had said to her while I was living in Copacabana, which surprised me a bit. However, it wasn’t anything too serious. When the time is right, I’ll ask Yasmin to find out what it really was.

I have noticed for a long time that Nalva often involves others in her comments about you to justify or validate her perspective. I find this behaviour extraordinarily toxic and indicative of poor character. It feels like a way to hurt or manipulate someone. Interestingly, this is something my mother frequently did when I was a child.

She would often quote or claim to repeat what someone, like an uncle, aunt, or friend, had said about me to her. She would weaponise those words, using them against me for her convenience. Nalva reminds me of my mother, who behaved similarly when I was a child. However, as I grew older, I became immune to my mother’s cruelty, almost like a vaccine that protected me from such situations.

After living with Nalva for over ten years, I noticed that on many occasions she would use what others said about me to justify her actions, hurt me, or manipulate the situation. While this behaviour reminds me of my experiences with my mother in the past, it doesn’t affect me as much anymore. Instead, it simply leaves me disappointed with that person, which, for me now, is a sign of poor character.

It’s important to remember that when someone uses what another person has said about you in a hostile, aggressive, or cruel way, you can’t know if it’s true or understand the context of those words.

For instance, I didn’t take it seriously when Nalva claimed that Yasmin had said something about me while I was living in Copacabana. Firstly, I sensed that she was trying to hurt me, and second, I had no way of knowing whether what she said accurately reflected the context of Yasmin’s words and feelings.

Returning to my earlier point, sometimes it’s important to express what’s troubling us or what we’ve been holding inside. If we spend too much time brooding over our thoughts and feelings, it’s better to let them out rather than keep them bottled up.

We might reach our breaking point and explode if we don’t. This can also turn into a kind of emotional cancer, festering and growing inside of us, eating away at us, which can erode our health from the inside out.

I thought it was funny that even after the heated conversation, when we arrived home, we took Perola for a walk and talked even more. When we got back after the walk, Nalva made popcorn with bacon; she’s always cooking, even when she’s not feeling well.

Yasmin arrived home after 11 p.m, which was fine; her friends’ parents brought her back. She told us that she had a good night.

Be kind and be happy, and if you can’t be happy, still be kind, but not naïve!

In bed by midnight.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Walking and Talking | Unloading our Hurt first appeared on The Long Gringo.