Today is kind of a big deal. Dads are being celebrated across the globe for Fathers’ Day, it is summer solstice in the northern hemisphere, (the longest day of the year, marking the onset of summer, and with it the bounty of the harvest,) and Grand Cayman emerges from lockdown after 87 days. Champagne corks are likely flying around the island on this landmark date, June 21st.
Today also happens to be International Day of Yoga. In India, the summer solstice is traditionally celebrated with mass yoga sessions, although this year might be a little more isolated. D and I enjoy our morning yoga session on the deck, where we attempt to focus on a practice “for strength, for happiness, for love, for forgiveness and for correcting mistakes done in past.” I also cannot help focus on how just about everything hurts.
I call my Dad, and we have a lovely chat. He updates me on his local news incase I can’t read British newspapers online. (I can.) When we sign off with the usual “I love you”s, I add, “You’re the best dad I ever had”. “Thanks so much, I’m flattered” he says sincerely,…”but, hang on a minute, I am the only dad you ever had….”
My dear Dad..!
D and I are at work early to ensure everything is where it needs to be, all the freshly sanitised tables are fully booked, and the team are pumped and ready to spring into action. By noon D and I are out, and the place is in full swing.
What do we do with our new found freedom from lockdown? Restrictions are lifted, and we can go anywhere we choose. We decide to stay home and give the house a deep clean. Sounds crazy I know, when the rest of the world outside our window seems to be boating, sailing and living life to the max. But in our defence, it has been a crazy 3 weeks, since we were given the green light to reopen our business. Starting up again has been surprisingly complicated for all involved, and demanded our full attention. So some things had to give, and the house was one of those things. We started lockdown with a fabulously rigorous and regimented cleaning routine, but it has fallen by the wayside recently. In the last few weeks we’ve been getting by with a little vacuum here, a little wipe down there, but it’s starting to look shabby. Our home is in need of a seriously deep clean.
Last time that I did a deep clean using equipment, a few people requested more details of the Drill Brush. So here goes. The nylon scrubbing brush fits on to any cordless power tool and comes with six brush sizes. Last time I found the smallest brush to be the best because I was removing build up of gunk in the grout lines. The grout still looks good from the last time, so this time I want to cover a wider surface area, and I attach the biggest brush. I spray every surface of the shower with bathroom detergent, then switch on the power tool. It’s fantastic in how fast and easy it is to give the shower walls, floor, taps and shower head a thorough polish. Everything comes up sparkling. Now i need to find some equipment that will power polish glass shower doors, because I am still doing these manually, and that suddenly feels so BC. (Before Covid.)
B and A tell me that they have already cleaned their bathrooms, the little angels. I venture into inspect more closely. I end up cleaning their bathrooms too. A’s idea of ‘clean’ is fairly similar to mine was when I was aged fifteen: passable. It used to drive my mum mad, how relaxed I was about keeping my personal spaces clean and tidy. In turn, it used to annoy me how high my mother’s standards were. Now I finally understand how she felt. B’s ‘clean’ standards are barely there, but at least these teenagers are giving it a go, thats the main thing….. isn’t it?
The other piece of equipment I cannot clean our home without is the Dyson V11 Animal. Anyone with dogs and cats who shed, knows all too well that vacuum technology matters, if you don’t want to live with fur balls rolling through your front room like tumbleweed. I literally love this vacuum, it is so powerful and comes with cool attachments to attack more than the floor: the drapes, the couch, the cushions. I fill the capsule full of superfine animal hair and dust with just one pass over the couch. The animals all watch the activity, pretending they don’t care. But they do really; to them I am undoing all their good work in marking their territory with their fur. Sorry, I say. Not sorry.
We aren’t total cleaning nerds, and down tools to share the evening with f
We aren’t total cleaning nerds, and down tools to share the evening with friends. Our first visitors in 3 months. It’s allowed. It’s safe. We sit outside, and watch the red sun light up the sky while silhouetted boats head home across the sea. We even pop a champagne cork, there is so much to celebrate now that Day One post-lockdown is finally here.
Then our friends drop the bombshell. They are leaving Cayman. They are a Caymanian couple, so I didn’t see this coming, not anytime soon. The cost of living in New Zealand is half the price, and they dream of a house with land, plus a barn, room to grow fruits and veggies, and the option to visit a vineyard down the road. They have long dreamt of retirement in NZ, but now Covid comes along it teaches them that a business in Cayman can be run remotely, and they can start the lifestyle they want right away.
“We just want a fresh start” they say. I just want you to stay, I whisper.
