Legends from our own lunchtimes

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Oom pah pah

I think we are in a pattern with Saturdays.

They are like a practice run for Sunday really except that some of the shops are open for some of the day, and if we think about it early enough we can get enough provisions for a few more days in between sitting under a shady tree and having a snooze, or washing, cleaning and cooking, depending on from whose perspective this note is to be written.

It was warm today, warm enough to be make one listless. Summer weather like home except that even as temperatures got close to forty the sun felt comforting, perhaps even seductive rather than like being in a griller, but we aren't easily seduced although Julian seems pleased enough to be returning to London with an imprint of his sandal straps tanned into the tops of his feet.

We sat in the shade and had cool drinks and did nothing during the heat of the day. There are still many hours left in the cool of the evening of course, to walk and find a band playing outside city hall, or to pop in and listen to the organist practicing in the cathedral, or to walk past the City Rose Gardens and conclude that one of us would rather spend the admission fee on a cup of coffee and the other would rather just get to the supermarket in time to get some more smoked salmon for this evening's meal. Even for the one thinking of the coffee, the smoked salmon was a pretty convincing argument.

After dinner, we'll sit under the night sky, getting cold and wondering if the guests attending functions in the chateau opposite will miss us. No doubt they will, but when we have to go, we have to go, but we'll come past again and we expect that will give them another opportunity to bring out the band.


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