I remembered a nurse called Olga today .
I’m sure she has died by now.
She was an older woman when I worked with her many moons ago now.
I didn’t like Olga.
She was brusque and prickly and she never really liked the patients she cared for.
Having said that,
She never really liked her co workers either.
However Olga liked flowers.
She would bring bunches in from her garden at home, or would send the more biddable patients out when the daffodils filled the hospital flower beds and would fill a myriad of glass vases with blooms , placing displays on window ledges and on tables and anywhere they could be seen .
Weekly she would empty each vase and would hand wash them with hot soapy water in the ward sluice
It was a ritual she always completed on her own
Hot soapy water
Cleaning the glass inside and out
Then rinsing each vase before leaving them to air dry
“ It’s my restful time “she explained once “my time”
A woman who didn’t really like people enjoying a mindless , repetitive job
I thought of Olga today as I cleaned my collection of Burleigh Ware Art Deco crockery.
I had placed it all on top of my kitchen cabinets five years ago where it has become greasy and dirty with cooking and dust and soot from the fire and slowly and deliberately I have soaked each piece and cleaned away the dirt until my fingers wrinkled from the soaking and the bleach.
It’s been a mindful afternoon with the ticking of the kitchen clock and the sound of bird sound from the garden my only company.
from Going Gently https://ift.tt/wRcZMXV
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