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Still too damn hot - The Lyorn's Den

Sun Jul. 11th, 2010

11:46 pm - Still too damn hot

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... and not an end in sight. Slight cooling off to below 30°C forecast for Tuesday, then back to 35.

Tuesday was the coolest day of last week also. Nice day, though I spent it at work, then in the evening we went to R___'s birthday party. Gwydion jumped on the trampoline with the kids, I filled in for him while he had something to drink, but I'm not good with kids at all and waited until the kids were safely in bed before going back on. And now I want a trampoline. I was never allowed on one as a kid, and gods, it's fun.

Later that evening we sang a few songs and huddled across a camp fire (in a fire bowl) on the veranda, because it went down to 12°C. I had the inlet of my motorcycle jacket in the back of my car, but I refused to put it on.

Wednesday we had an on-site rehearsal with the choir in the new church in a small town nearby. "New" meant here, built of wood and glass, so no nice stored cold from thick stone walls. It was, as these things tend to be, bad, and I was out of a voice afterwards.

As usual, the performance was far better than the rehearsal, both regarding the music and my mood. I had left early at work, so I had time to go to Ceridwen, drink something, cool down, and change clothes. The long black dress I inherited through flederkatz looked as good as I had hoped, and the feeling that I was looking good made it easier to move to the music -- usually I'm completely blocked when we are doing anything that involves more movement then walking on stage and off, I stand there in a "I know I'm fat and taking up too much space, don't bounce into me please because it hurts" pose and have no air for actual singing. The second set was done by a woman with a harp, several flutes, and a nice singing voice, and a man with a guitar and a little too much sense of his own importance. Third set was an all-male choir, which was really good.

My slight phobia about publicly failing at art didn't get the day off, though. After the performance we went into a beer garden for free drinks. They had non-alcoholic cocktails, and I had set my eye on a Virgin Caipirinha or three. Unfortunately, before we even got around to ordering for-fun-drinks (as opposed to buckets of water) the others felt like we should sing a reasonably complicated Russian song with lots of changing keys and tempi, and do it without sheet music or conducting. Of course it was an almighty mess, and I decided that, even if I didn't have to drive, there was no way to ingest enough alcohol quickly enough for this not to be painful. So I grabbed Ceridwen, and we ran away and put some hard rock into the car stereo on the drive home.

Friday passed unremarkably, and Saturday found me up at 9 am (already 28°C outside), because the bicycle auction started at 10. Apart from being in an old production hall under a tin roof, with a floor crammed full of people the auction was fun, though I did not get any of the bicycles I had set my eyes on for the price I was willing to pay. Best price was 180 Euros for a cruiser, which got applause from the whole room. Most bikes went for about 1/10 of what they probably cost new, and less than half of what they would have cost used at a dealer who does not deal in stolen merchandise. Many of the bidders were not German -- a bunch of Indian women in Saris, a group of Russians, a Russian woman who read her numbers from a Russian-German dictionary, a few Indian men, a few Turkish women. The auctioneer accepted bids in German, English, and hand signs.

When all the bikes on my list were gone, I got out and dragged myself to the nearest ice cream parlour to cool and hydrate myself back to functional. Restored to humanity, or as much of it as possible at 35°, I went through altogether too many stores, looking for jogging shorts (none to be had -- even the online retailers are sold out) and shorts for everyday wear. As I had last bought shorts when I was 20 (and never wore them, because, what was I thinking?) I had no idea what looked good on me. Also, sale season had started, and everyone, their aunt, grandma, daughters and third cousins was shopping for summer clothes. In the end I found something acceptable (and a lot shorter than I had thought would look good), and trundled off to the market for veggies. Just in time: usually, the stands are there until about 3 pm, but the weather was probably making the veggies wilt, and no one was out on the street anyway, so most of the stands were already gone and I barely managed to get some strawberries, lettuce and tomatoes.

I then bicycled home through burning-hot streets, with a wind straight out of the oven door every time a car or bus passed. There weren't many, and there were no bicyclists or pedestrians out at all. I guess they all had a lot more sense than I.

I spend the rest of the weekend with a bunch of new books, and new CDs. The latest Amy MacDonald and "Troubadour" by K'Naan wouldn't rip. If they don't copy either I'll try to return them, because if I wanted music I can only listen to on the living room stereo I'd browse flea markets for cheap vinyl.

Jerry is going for self-mutilation -- he sticks his paws behind open doors and tries to balance on the (round, metal, 4 cm diameter) balcony rail. I fear I'm going to have to put up a net. No idea how I'm going to water the petunias, then.

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