My Friday off Work

Regents Park & Rowing

(double click photo to see more & rose pics should say Queen Mary's Garden (not St. Mary's)) I just knew I would love CWS: Compressed Work Schedule. As many of you probably know, I’ve always been something of a workaholic. I always feel compelled to get to a good stopping place and that time is not necessarily at 4, 4:30, 5 or later! Well, my new work schedule is 9 hrs per day Monday through Thursday, 8 hours one Friday and ZERO hours the next Friday. Yes, (9X8)+8=80. Last Friday, I had my first Friday off and boy, did it feel luxurious. Slept late (yes, I am well known for that, too), had a little breakfast, went to Starbucks & got a laté (lah tay), then to Regent’s Park (maybe ½ mile from my house) to admire the beautiful flowers, greenery, and water.
At first I just meandered about the park, taking it all in. It is a huge park with a zoo at one end and a college right in the middle. It has runners, walkers, strollers, bike riders, lovers, poopers, an all manner of human and canine beings. There was a charming area with very folksy, primitive, whimsical type tree houses, see-saws and seating areas – even a real, plastic-covered library in one of the tree houses.
After this bit of wandering I decided I would rent a row boat, row out into the middle of the lake, lie down in the boat and read my book. Oh, yes, I was sure rowing would come naturally; after all, I have paddled a canoe! Sadly, my assumption was hardly on the mark. With the wind blowing about 30 knots (Does that sound right, Tom Bentley? I just made it up.), I kept going around in circles & getting blown back to the dock. The oars wouldn’t stay in their hooks, the arms wouldn’t go the right direction, and I was expending a heck of a lot of woman-power and getting nowhere quick.
Finally a young man working at the dock took pity on me & offered to help. With some oar wrestling, I managed to get to where he was. He hops in and smoothly demonstrates proper rowing technique. He says (in some foreign accent that I imagined to be Italian/Venetian) “Look, it’s easy.” Well, I felt bass ackwards sitting backwards in the boat and my arms kept feeling like they were doing the opposite of what they should be doing when they were doing the right thing. So after a 5 minute lesson, Mr. Venice hopped out (please don’t tell me that those Venetian paddlers stand up & don’t really row; I thought of that, myself) and I’m back to my circles. Mr. Venice calls, “Want to trade for a paddle boat?” “No,” I say. I’m determined to get to the other end of the lake. And so I do, but only in time to turn around and row back to the dock – no reading or napping in the boat this time. But I felt pretty good considering I was the only woman rower I saw, and considering that the rowers were outnumbered by the paddlers probably 10 to 1! Although I certainly wouldn’t characterize my rowing as smooth, I enjoyed the heck out of it & will definitely row again. After finishing the boating, I found myself a cozy little bench behind some bulrushes and read for about an hour. What a lovely, leisurely day!