Both busy-ness (bike outings and birthdays and language lessons) and grumpiness have kept me from blogging much this week. I am trying to be positive about living in a non-air-conditioned condo — with a bank of west-facing windows, great for light through our long grey season here — but atrocious for building heat through July and August sunny afternoons. I might, though, have hit an especially cantankerous low spot about mid-week — did my best to work a smile on Pater’s birthday, but I’m not great at keeping the lid on my feelings for very long. . . .
And of course it’s not just the weather that’s irritating me, but also the way that Covid-19 has robbed the city of many of the summer activities that made the warmth pleasurable — or that provided an escape from it. Outdoor music festivals and theatre under the stars and dark, air-conditioned movie theatres and the occasional spot of retail therapy. A spontaneous visit to a favourite restaurant or an impromptu outing to a favourite gallery or museum. Some of these activities don’t exist this summer; others don’t seem worth the risk; and for others, the reservations required to facilitate social distancing have taken spontaneity off the table for now. I suppose I’ve been slow to adjust.
But we’ve done some strategising since my grumpies hit, and yesterday, we got “out of the city” while still in the city (well, technically, a neighbouring tiny city/municipality, but part of the Greater Vancouver Area) yesterday morning. Check this Instagram post to see what I mean. . . let me just say that kayaking across a lake under blue skies, surrounded by conifer-dark mountains is always a good idea, especially if the expedition includes a quick swim in pristine water. . . .
We’ve also organised ourselves to head to a local park with a picnic blanket from 5-ish to 7-ish, to enjoy the shade and watch our community chill. We did that with our granddaughter yesterday evening, she and I both sketching the scene from our different perspectives. (a photo of her sketching: here). Plans are afoot to make evening migration a summer habit — we’ve bought the folding chairs!
And I’m making reservations to visit those museums, galleries, and botanic gardens, making an effort to turn being “stuck in the city” into an advantage through August. Thinking Staycation . . .
So I think I’m better framed now to enjoy these (very reasonable, I readily admit) summer temperatures. Which means that I’m also better able to find aesthetic pleasure even in the more aggressively industrial-urban aspects of summer in the city. . . .
Patterns. . . .
Grids and circles and brash colour
Really brash colour!
And the surprisingly beautiful transformation of luridly-coloured plastic netting in all its utilitarian geometry into wonderfully organic lines and curves rendered in black and white on the asphalt. . . .
I’ll leave the rest
of these photos for you. . .
but will point to the one below as my favourite. . . .
and will quickly confess that I saw in the swooping lines of the netting’s shadow something that reminds me ofa murmuration of starlings. . . . I will be equally quick in agreeing with you that the comparison is much too fanciful. But my quirky brain made it nonetheless. . . .
Must leave you now as our sleepover guest will be waking soon and she will have plans for the day to discuss with her Nana and Granddad. . . .
What about you? Plans for the day? for the weekend? Or completely unplanned mood swings that you’re having to navigate. Layered memories of past summers that ambush you and trigger a mixed sense of pleasure and loss and, perhaps, some concern about whether summer might ever mean the same again? Or should it? Or did it ever?
Or just tell me about your favourite ice cream treat of the week. . . ’cause I forgot to mention that Paul walked with our daughter and her Littles to an artisan ice cream place we love — they’re not scooping cones this summer, but serving takeaway in (recyclable) containers with (recyclable) spoons. . . And the crew brought me back Salted Caramel. . . . in the same week that Paul brought home (at my request) a box of Ice Cream Sandwiches. . . I would like to say that will be all the ice cream I will eat all summer, but that would probably turn out to be a lie. . . .
And watermelon, there’s still watermelon. . . and we have tomatoes, ripe red tomatoes growing just outside our door.
So you could tell me about any of that. Plans, moods, ice cream or other treats, and produce you’re loving thanks to summer. (Of course, if you’re reading this in Australia, please forgive. . . you’ll be moving back to spring soon, right?)
xo,
f
p.s. I forgot to tell you that I posted my halfway-through-the-year Reading List, should you be looking for inspiration for your summer reading.
You have reminded me to go and buy ice cream from our local cafe. Thank you. Extreme grumps here over last two days but we do now have some sunshine, after days of rain and wind and very low temperatures. However, we have now been placed back in semi-lockdown in the Bradford area (though I am nowhere near the city) due to rising numbers again. Very gloomy and frustrating. I shall hope that salted caramel raises the spirits.
Ice Cream sandwiches… bought those for the first time in years for my book club on the deck meeting last weekend. And everyone opted for the Fudgesicles. Childhood memories and all that. Better and better… I ate all the ice cream sandwiches myself. Although not in one sitting. Ha.
Suffering from a bit of midsummer grumpiness here too. More Stu than me. Golf game not what it was (arthritis in his back) and garden disappointing (chipmunks eating the tomatoes and not enough rain.) And my first outing to sit on a patio and have lunch with a friend was rained out. And in this dry summer! We got soaked! Still the conversation was good and the soaking eventually funny.
Gosh… windows that get the afternoon sun are lovely in the winter, not so much in the summer. xo
AC here in Florida a must, but just walking to the car leaves me damp and frizzy due to the heat and humidity. The heat and the high rates of Covid – 19 makes it feel like a ghost town since people stay home due to park and pool closures. Masks are finally catching on so we rarely see a face when we do go out. It feels eerily impersonal. The only people I have actually been close to in the last five months are my husband and younger son — everyone else is at least 10 feet away wearing a mask or on zoom or face time. I can't wait for this to be over!
Yesterday, I was a cry-baby. My mum is in the hospital for a set of conditions that plague the elderly, my daughter is very busy trying to get some sort of reasonable recall for workers who might never be called back
and my husband has actually worn out the arm-rests on his recliner. The dog is not a substitute for grandchildren and I do not see a relief in the future. Sometimes, we just need to cry and be grumpy, then eat ice-cream (salt caramel is my favourite), read books, drink wine, plant flowers or whatever it takes. It is the inability to control my situation that frustrates me.
There is a lot to be grumpy about. Thoughtless people who flout rules designed to keep everyone safe. Learning to do so many things differently. Giving up many simple joys like hugs and kisses. Ever present anxiety at the suffering and illness caused by the pandemic. I had a very low period in May – June but a switch was thrown and July was a lot better. And there are welcome signs of spring everywhere from the delicate beauty of lily of the valley in my garden to the riotous joy of magnolia blossoms in my neighbourhood. Keep kayaking, eat that ice cream, enjoy your beautiful grandchildren and keep fining beauty where and whenever you can.
Grumpiness comes and goes here, too. I'm finding that the longer these restrictions last the less I am willing to go out where there are people. It's not that I'm fearful, it's just keeping all the rules straight in my head is tiring, and I get irritated at people who don't seem to care, and it's just not worth it. I'm becoming more and more content to stay at home, visiting with family from time to time. Our libraries are still closed and I'm venturing out this afternoon to a neighbourhood used book store in search of some reading material. This evening we are going to a daughter's home to enjoy a take out dinner, and then watch Hamilton. They signed up for Disney streaming over the summer.
Evenings in the park sound lovely, and a good way to enjoy the cooling as day drifts into night.
There is much to be grumpy about as others have said. The weird novelty has worn off and we all know this could be with us for a long time. Everything is upside down and through the looking glass.
As for treats, watermelon is always in our fridge now, and we tried a pint of raspberry white chocolate dark chocolate chunk ice cream from Hagen-Das last week, a real luxury. However, I think I am going to revert to my childhood Fudgesicles and Creamsicles from now on.
There was a spectacular electrical storm around 3.00 this morning very far north of us, as the time between flashes of light and sound were very long. Brenda
Hi from wintry Melbourne, where lockdown and masks are the order of the day. We're thankful that we live bayside and can indulge in two dog walks a day at the beach, although social distancing can be a problem on the path. Otherwise, sock knitting, reading, music, audio books, I even managed a bike ride yesterday. I'm learning Italian via Zoom 3 times a week and writing dialogues in Italian with fellow learners via Whats App, but sometimes I'm just fed up with the whole thing!
Avanti!
Jules
Hi there
It's very odd – my friend and I have found that we have been thriving during these months. We are relaxed – refreshed and happy. We kept our distance from people. Work closed down and we are waiting for a call back = date unknown.
Time is flying by, Meeting lots of people/gardeners on neighbourhood walks. Enjoying being home and in the garden. Took a course on ZOOM. Neighbours were baking for us. We just started expanding our bubble this past month. Going out for dinner instead of take out. We did a couple of day trips. I just had a 4 day holiday courtesy of my husband. Overhead a woman at the restaurant telling her friends that she is thriving – so I engaged in a conversation with her.
I on occasion do miss all the summer events that are usually attended during these months.
Fortunately my husband and I are healthy.
One could really see while away the effect COVID has on businesses = no tourists = no spending = no work for lots of people = sad.
Like Anonymous, we are thriving. The result actually can make me grumpy, one of those paradoxes. It's a result of an acquaintance complaining (over and over) that his pleasure trip to a foreign destination has been curtailed and he can "only go to Vancouver".
I have concluded that those who can take pleasure in the neighbourhood ice cream place, a good read, one's garden, and photographing architectural features (I enjoyed those shots!) are much better-equipped to weather the times than those who need continual stimulation via the (no pun intended) novel. I'd say IMO that attitude is essential to successful ageing, too.
Of course there will be times when we are really low, or fed up with the restrictions. I am proactively worrying (one of my foibles) about the late fall when we can't relax outdoors on terrasses and have a semblance of the vitality we're used to in this city.
Here in Sydney we are responding to an increasing level of alertness. New masks purchased & decisions being made as to whether I stitch some. We can buy tomatoes so all good there.
Love your shadow photos of the netting.
Pretty much still spending almost 100% of my time at home. Numbers on the rise in our state (which did a decent job initially). I planted a lot of deck containers with tomatoes, peppers, herbs, so harvesting the results on these horrid/hot/humid days. 28 of 31 days in July well over 32c and with humidity, the real feel was often in the range of 43c. So why go out? Now "in the cone" of the hurricane heading up this way. Hopefully, it will go out to sea and not hug the coast.
Had my first frozen treat in seven months this week: Enlightened Salted Caramel bar (clearly, the flavor of choice for most of us).
Finally, will likely be home schooling one of my grandchildren (6 yr old) beginning in September, so trying to gear up for all that will entail. How's that for a stream of consciousness comment? 🙂
Frances, I went to your reading blog and then on a trail to older posts and Instagram posts on different books. I even set up an account on IG so that I could read more. It has really hit me that I get very little out of books. I'm ashamed to say this, and I hasten to add that I am not stupid or uneducated. I have a Ph.D. in a hard science and am still working at a prestigious academic institution, but when I was in school I considered English classes an imposition and was only interested in math and science. Now I am bothered by the fact that I have read some of the books that you write about and I've only skimmed the surface. I get the plot and some of the characters and I do appreciate beautiful prose but that's about it. I wish I could have taken one of your courses. Or even a high school class. I remember going to parents' night at my son's HS and telling him afterward that I would pay to attend his English course, the teacher was so interesting. Of course he did not appreciate it. Well, I'm learning a little by reading your comments.
And, similarly, I love your photos which capture beauty that I would be oblivious to, and I love your flights of fancy!
Annie Green: I hope the sunshine lasts and the warmth brings you out into your garden. I can imagine the frustration at a second lockdown. . . my Yorkshire family has been hit hard (a cousin who worked as a hospital porter died, leaving two young sons behind). . .take care. definitely get the ice cream!
Sue: Fudgsicles or Revellos show up in our freezer fairly regularly, but the ice cream sandwiches I hadn't had for years. They're still very good, so I'll make sure they don't land in the grocery cart again any time soon. . . Sympathies to Stu re the arthritis. All the small infirmities cast longer shadows these days, I think, when we're not sure when/if we'll ever pick up some activities. . .
Lynn: It's good that more and more of us are wearing the masks, but I, too, miss faces. And because I'm a bit hard of hearing, I miss reading lips to make sense of sounds (and then the sounds themselves are muffled slightly by the masks). . . Many small but manageable irritations that accumulate and sometimes, for a moment or an hour or a day or two, just become too much. . . .
Mme: I'm sorry to hear about your mother and I hope she's being well cared for in the hospital. You must be proud of your daughter for the important work she's doing, but some days it's just all too much, isn't it? I think crying is a perfectly reasonable temporary response . . . along with ice cream and wine and books and whatever we need.
Maria: It's funny the way the moods come in waves, sometimes quite unexpected. Overall, I don't find the restrictions much hardship (except for not being able to see our family in Italy) . . . but this change in temperature means the indoor activities I was content with are no longer quite as enjoyable. Tweaking required (not twerking!!)
Lorrie: I'm surprised, as well, at who is and isn't conforming to safety requirements. Until/unless we get even broader compliance, I'm happier, like you, just staying home or getting outside, away from any crowds. . . We have five or six branches of the library open here — I'll be picking up Holds at the Central Branch downtown, and that's worth donning my mask! Otherwise, my main risk (and a limited one) has been my far too frequent dental/endodontic visits (something like 7 in the last five or six weeks!!)
Brenda: Yes, I think that's it, the recognition that we're still here and will be for some time (we've just begun the seventh month since original lockdown!).
We missed that storm, just got some rain, halfhearted, for an hour or two. . . Creamsicles!! We've been getting Fudgesicles and Revellos, but I must add Creamsicles to the grocery list. Maybe Popsicles as well. . .
Jules: Melbourne is a good reminder of why we need to stay careful — it must be so frustrating to have to go back into those more stringent restrictions. But it seems you're making the most of it — despite my occasional grumpiness, I try to as well. At least our Italian is improving (three times a week for yours, wow! Mine's just one 2.5 hour session)
Anonymous at 8:49: So much depends upon location, size and set-up of home, doesn't it? In many ways, I might have been happier in our former home (ocean to swim in, big garden to tend, neighbours to chat with on walks (but there is much in the city to compensate, as I re-focus, and my grandchildren are nearby). . . Sounds as if you have an enviable neighbourhood and community resources to thrive now. . .
Duchesse: Ha! I love this characterization of "proactive worrying" — I'm a champion at this also 😉 And yes, I appreciate that paradox; too many don't seem to realize that the difficulties of which they complain are more on the level of annoyances rather than real deprivation. I try to catch myself and re-adjust. Some days the deprivation feels real 😉 Perhaps that's the flipside of your paradox — that knowing I'm being petty makes me feel even worse. . .
Elizabeth: Tomatoes and masks. Sometimes life comes down to this, if we're lucky, right?
Mary: I love the ranging stream of your consciousness — or the stream of your ranging consciousness? 😉 and I'm pleased that you enjoyed the net photos. I was happy to find a surprising beauty at that construction site — an unexpected gift.
Your garden harvest sounds marvellous — but I can't imagine you'll be canning any of that produce in your heat!
Marie: What a thoughtful comment, and I'm so glad to read that you find some of my book posts suggest ways of reading that intrigue you. It was the greatest pleasure of my teaching to help other readers find ways to open a text and to make connections between the world within the world outside its pages. Repeated words or images, for example. Once we begin to notice these echoes, we see a different structure emerge than the purely linear one we might naturally read. . . And then we might start to wonder about the difference between the plot and the story — what work does that difference serve? Recognizing the narrator as another created character is also a useful thread to tug at — so often, because he or she is "in charge" of the telling, we take that perspective almost as invisible, as natural, as a kind of truth. But a narrator has reasons to tell us a story a certain way. . .
Enough! You can tell that your comment has pulled me back to work I love to do. Perhaps I should figure out a way that I could do something with that on my reading blog (a few years ago, I hosted a readalong of Elena Ferrante's My Brilliant Friend, and that was quite satisfying. hmmmm, time for another series, perhaps 😉
COVID seems to impact everything. In MA our numbers are starting to
to rise again and this is concerning. Generally, I happily stay close to home. Our high heat (95 to 100 degrees) has made the outdoors uncomfortable. I enjoy the cool temperature inside my home. My Fujitsu heat pumps do a fantastic job cooling the entire house. i highly recommend these units for supplemental heating in the Winter and outstanding cooling for Summer months.
As of a couple of days ago, I decided to try even harder to sort out some kind of causation for my mood swings. This week I'm going to focus on sleep. Like, maybe I need blackout curtains for full moons? Because I find it really perturbing to be this erratic. I do find that visiting bodies of water can help. xoxox
Frances, I see that there are worlds that I am missing – it's like a drop of water, I can see the drop, but you have a microscope and can see the life inside it. I thought of asking if you might do an online book group, but thought better of asking you to take on additional burdens!
Susan, I am in MA as well, and I had (Carrier) heat pumps put in a little over a year ago. They are my primary heating system, I had the oil burner and radiators removed. I do have an electric auxiliary system that kicks in if it gets very cold, but it hardly ever is needed. I didn't have AC before, and I am so glad to have it now, especially as I am home all the time.
Like Anon and Duchesse I find I'm thriving. My worries are for my young adults, who are really missing the social interaction that is so important at that age (not of the congregating in pubs sort that is driving some of the UK back into lockdown), and are toiling with the loneliness of remote working. My daughter returned to London last week to try to find another house share, hers having disintegrated over lockdown. Your cityscapes are stunning – really finding beauty in pattern and colour. Air conditioning v. climate change is such a conundrum. Although we never need it in Scotland, I can understand from hot, sleepless nights in France how useful it can be. Did you hear that as a climate change measure France has banned restaurant/cafe patio heaters in winter and opening the glass doors to let air conditioning out onto the terrasses in summer? I'm actually not keen on ice cream, tho the Italian ice cream is a notch above everything else. Very sweet tho! Must go to your reading blog now and keep abreast with fiction vicariously.
Susan and Marie: We've been thinking about a heat pump, but not sure how feasible it would be to have one installed in the condo. Might be time to step up the research. Our heating requirements are modest, but while I never would have considered AC before, life behind so much glass and with limited opportunities for through-draft means many uncomfortable weeks now, and that only seems likely to worsen in future.
Lisa: Yes! This is what I've been doing, trying to find patterns and identify triggers and strategize for ways to avoid the most egregious dips and sways. . .
Marie: Hmmm, you've got me thinking about this. . . no promises, but. . .
Linda: Thriving is good! I would say that overall, I'm managing well and thriving in some areas — and our garden is loving the extra attention. But as with you, it's hard to see the effects on our kids and their families — and there are big concerns now about sending them back to school next month I hadn't thought so much of the challenges for Twenty-somethings, but I can see what you're saying (and have a young friend currently moved back to the city and house-hunting with roommates — it's tough!). And they're certainly a demographic with a strong social drive.
I hadn't read that about the French patio heaters and AC, but it seems a necessary adjustment to me (I do like those misters some Parisian cafe terraces have installed though!)