Flowers, and a midnight concerto
Jul. 2nd, 2023 09:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lyornAfter a week of (I felt) not much happening (I failed to get light black cotton trousers, and got rained on, which was more fun than trying on clothes), Saturday made up for it.
First I finally managed my yearly trip to the garden centre with I---, where I bought some flowers for the balcony that will hopefully last the summer, she bought about 10 pots of whatever although she had meant (she said) just for something to improve the soil in her veggie garden, and we had cake and coffee.
One reason why we did not manage to go earlier is that the cake at that place is so good (and the plants are nothing to sneer at either) that there are bus tours to that garden centre in early summer. But with Jul 1, early summer is officially over, it seems, so it was just normal crowded.
And I got flowers which I put into new pots with fresh earth today, as usual slightly annoyed at my balcony, where only those parts get sun that I cannot see from my windows. Maybe I should put up mirrors.
Also, last week a music festival took place in the closest large city. It started out as being about church organs -- it's still held in churches, but there is a more diverse program these days, and this year it was all about international vocal groups. There were three I wanted to hear, but as Sjaella sang at a time that did not fit me, and The Swingles were a bit above my budget, plus I had seen them eleven years ago in Stockholm at a concerto with Rajaton and The Real Group and that one was so great that I worried everything after would pale against it.
So, by process of exclusion, I went to see Metaklapa, an all-male ensemble that has arranged songs of their favourite band to be sung in traditional Croatian style. Their favourite band? Iron Maiden. How could I pass the opportunity to hear that -- in a church? At 11 p.m.? Of course I could not.
Weird enough, I was a bit scared. City by night, on a Saturday. City driving by night. Cobblestones, rain, not sure about the parking situation for a motor scooter. Gah. None of that is even remotely scary, really. I'm just getting old.
So I ate some chocolate, started early, and everything went perfect even before the band came on stage. And, holy smurf. The first bars of "Aces High", and it was already like coming home. Magic. I love Heavy Metal, not for the drums, not for the speed, (although I love those, too), but for the melodies, and the drama-without-romance. The drama gets me to my happy place, where everything shines with ideas and possibilities, and that defamiliarization created by a very different presentation, in a church of all things just worked for me.
At the final song ("Fear of the Dark") the band asked us to join in, unfortunately, most people were more keen on filming with their mobile phones than on singing (it *was* difficult to join, without a guitar leading through the harmonies), and I did not want to have my voice somewhere on the internet, so I kept it soft.
The one thing that could have been better: The leading tenor was sometimes flagging a bit. (I feel with him, actually, but it would have been nice if he hadn't.)
On the way out, I talked with a few people, two people who had been sitting close complimented my voice (this is unexpected!) and we talked some about the arrangements. And when I drove off the site, carefully on wet cobblestones, a young man offered me 50 Euros to drive him to the neighbouring city, and I said, "Haven't got a second helmet, sorry!" drove off, and found that a quite funny thing to happen.
So, \o/
It drizzled on the way home, not bad enough to wear full raingear, and it made for a very pleasant late-night-drive.
Also, last week I went swimming. 300 metres, 10 minutes. After what I did to my shoulder last year, I did not dare more, and the arm is still weak. But, at least I did it, and the shoulder did not complain.
And I brought a box full of junk to the give-and-take pavilion, had a nice talk about cats with a woman who was looking through what was there.
And had ice cream. Twice.
One more week of vacation!
First I finally managed my yearly trip to the garden centre with I---, where I bought some flowers for the balcony that will hopefully last the summer, she bought about 10 pots of whatever although she had meant (she said) just for something to improve the soil in her veggie garden, and we had cake and coffee.
One reason why we did not manage to go earlier is that the cake at that place is so good (and the plants are nothing to sneer at either) that there are bus tours to that garden centre in early summer. But with Jul 1, early summer is officially over, it seems, so it was just normal crowded.
And I got flowers which I put into new pots with fresh earth today, as usual slightly annoyed at my balcony, where only those parts get sun that I cannot see from my windows. Maybe I should put up mirrors.
Also, last week a music festival took place in the closest large city. It started out as being about church organs -- it's still held in churches, but there is a more diverse program these days, and this year it was all about international vocal groups. There were three I wanted to hear, but as Sjaella sang at a time that did not fit me, and The Swingles were a bit above my budget, plus I had seen them eleven years ago in Stockholm at a concerto with Rajaton and The Real Group and that one was so great that I worried everything after would pale against it.
So, by process of exclusion, I went to see Metaklapa, an all-male ensemble that has arranged songs of their favourite band to be sung in traditional Croatian style. Their favourite band? Iron Maiden. How could I pass the opportunity to hear that -- in a church? At 11 p.m.? Of course I could not.
Weird enough, I was a bit scared. City by night, on a Saturday. City driving by night. Cobblestones, rain, not sure about the parking situation for a motor scooter. Gah. None of that is even remotely scary, really. I'm just getting old.
So I ate some chocolate, started early, and everything went perfect even before the band came on stage. And, holy smurf. The first bars of "Aces High", and it was already like coming home. Magic. I love Heavy Metal, not for the drums, not for the speed, (although I love those, too), but for the melodies, and the drama-without-romance. The drama gets me to my happy place, where everything shines with ideas and possibilities, and that defamiliarization created by a very different presentation, in a church of all things just worked for me.
At the final song ("Fear of the Dark") the band asked us to join in, unfortunately, most people were more keen on filming with their mobile phones than on singing (it *was* difficult to join, without a guitar leading through the harmonies), and I did not want to have my voice somewhere on the internet, so I kept it soft.
The one thing that could have been better: The leading tenor was sometimes flagging a bit. (I feel with him, actually, but it would have been nice if he hadn't.)
On the way out, I talked with a few people, two people who had been sitting close complimented my voice (this is unexpected!) and we talked some about the arrangements. And when I drove off the site, carefully on wet cobblestones, a young man offered me 50 Euros to drive him to the neighbouring city, and I said, "Haven't got a second helmet, sorry!" drove off, and found that a quite funny thing to happen.
So, \o/
It drizzled on the way home, not bad enough to wear full raingear, and it made for a very pleasant late-night-drive.
Also, last week I went swimming. 300 metres, 10 minutes. After what I did to my shoulder last year, I did not dare more, and the arm is still weak. But, at least I did it, and the shoulder did not complain.
And I brought a box full of junk to the give-and-take pavilion, had a nice talk about cats with a woman who was looking through what was there.
And had ice cream. Twice.
One more week of vacation!
