Sunday, March 1

We had another late morning. Irma’s mother phoned to say that she had fallen over and now had a broken bone.

I decided to go for a cycle ride again. I cycled down to the beach and along to Puotila. The path was interesting in that some parts of it were completely clear and some parts of it were solid ice. There seemed to be no logical reason for this, except that there is. Irma will point out later that the cleared parts correspond to where the underground heating pipes go.

I am standing looking out over the beach at the sea, which is still frozen over. I can feel where my thighs and calves have forgotten what cycling involves.

When I get home Irma will leave. Naa will stay at home to revise, I will stay at home to redo yesterday’s cleaning, and Irma will drive to see her mother. She will return to tell us that she is in a very good mood, considering what she has just been through.

Later we will eat, shower and have an early night.

Weekends vary a lot. Sometimes they are times of fun and jollity. Some times they are times to recover. Sometimes, like this weekend, they are times when there doesn’t seem to be enough time to recover.

We got through this one.