have been battened down. Or, at least, the tomato plants have been helicopter mommied into the french door alcove in the garden so they don’t get hailed to bits.
Right after the tragic World Cup loss (I don’t want to talk about it, except to say that my dad always says if you’re not getting fouls you’re not playing defense, so get off your moral high horse), we had a series of freak summer storms, lasting Sunday night through Monday late afternoon. Continue reading
Another 87F scorcher here in Holland today. And woe unto you if you haven’t worked on your Holland tan.
Yesterday I sat in this exact same spot in the park, and there was a group of older people painting this unusual tree. Today? There’s mostly-naked Dutch girls sunbathing. The (crappy) picture doesn’t even begin to convey the weirdness; the Noorderplantsoen’s pretty big so people are able to spread out everywhere to most effectively cancer-fy themselves.
Weirder still? They’ve been doing this since March, when it was like 52F.
Weirdest? None of them are tan yet. Dude, you can’t get tan in Holland.
I’m assuming, given the fact that I got (harmlessly) creeped on (and was left alone once I dropped the H-bomb–”husband”) in this same park the other day, that the sunbathing is simply another kind of markt. This one’s the undergrad meat markt, though, because these undergrads just lack a Presidential courtyard to do it in.
I’ll stay in the shade, thanks.
Browsing the groenten (vegetables; say, approx., "hrr-OOHn-te")
Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday are market days in Groningen. When we first moved here in March, we hadn’t even had time to scrape off the Boston frost before Nathan’s boss was urging us to go to the market. “Even in March? Even now? Like what is there to buy, potatoes?” Continue reading
The Grote Markt becomes a beach volleyball pitch. Martinikerk makes an odd backdrop. (And yes, it’s too cold for those people to be wearing shorts.) The sand is probably 18 inches deep or so, plopped right in the middle of the Groningen equivalent of Quincy Market. I saw them building it on Wednesday; by 8:45 Thursday morning, people were playing volleyball.
I’ve never seen people more desperate for summer.
I’d need both a better camera and a more patient eye to convey it, but when we get a pretty day here, the light is stunning. The tops of the narrow, old city buildings look even more dramatic against a clear mid-day sky. There are leaves on the trees. Girls bicycle in dresses; babies eat ijsjes (ice cream). People will sit at an outdoor cafe all afternoon, drinking little bitty coffees or biertjes (note: one never has a bier outright; one always has a little beer, a biertje).
Oh, boy, are we all gonna pay for this in November.