WEEKEND STUFF

IT'S the same story: it is outrageously hot today. At 10h30 the temperature had already exceeded the forecast. It should have been 88F max, and when I got up it was just over 90F (which is 32 Celsius). The humidity is already at 62%, and it's normally at its highest by 11pm. This is like Ladismith, where I grew up: it just gets hotter towards the evening, not cooler. Two nine-year-olds, who live in our building, have been filling small balloons with water, “to throw at people on the street”, which, of course, they’ll never do because they are exceptionally well-behaved NY boys. So I suggested to them that they put a table on the pavement with a sign saying, “Pay us a quarter and we’ll throw a balloon at you.” They thought it was a brilliant idea (and it is hot enough to pull it off). They've now set up business on our street corner, and they’re doing a roaring trade. Jonny has been up there to buy a balloon, and got it in the back. He came home all wet. One mother has had to put her work for the day aside since she’s the one filling balloons with water back home, on the stoop in front of our house, while the boys tend their stall. They’re parking off in deck chairs, shouting what they’re selling at the passers-by. All New Yorkers love a bit of business ingenuity, it seems. And their financial reports seem to get better and better: "We've got six dollars fifty!" Hell, they should go run Lehman Brothers.

Last night we had dinner at Jonathan and Nadine's. David Jammy was there, too, and two friends of Jonny and Nadine's, Rachel and Sam. Jonathan grilled sardines on the Weber on the balcony; there was pickled octopus -- I told Jonny it was the closest we'll get to Mozambique this year. Here are two pics of the post-dinner torpor... (There is something intrinsically sad about a Weber on a balcony, don't you think?)