I've bought new clothes today. Five t-shirts, a black shirt with a grey floral pattern, and a pair of jeans. I thought that the shop was just a short bus ride away. It turned out to be to hell and gone out in the countryside. I'm not as used to walking as I was a year ago, and I can feel it in my legs. It was worth it though.

It was a place that specializes in large sizes, and the owner was a very large fellow himself. Certainly larger than me.

It was weird to try on clothes in a place where I was on the small side.
After I'd bought for 1100 kr. clothes, the proprietor drove us back to the bus stop. Classy!

Today has been rainy. Work was work in name only (so a bit boring). In the evening I went over to my mother's to make her dinner, as she had a long day. Basically a good day.

I did absolutely nothing today. The café was closed due to the auspicious day, so I went for a walk in the sun, listening to Homicide: A Year On The Killing Streets on audiobook. Then I went home and ate leftovers (latkes and stir-fry chicken with spring onions). . Tomorrow I'll be cooking for my family. Roast lamb and a bulgur pilaf.

Coal Not Dole

by Kay Sutcliffe

It stands so proud, the wheel so still
A ghostlike figure on the hill
It seems so strange there is no sound
Now there are no men underground
What will become of this pit-yard
Where men once trampled, faces hard
Tired and weary, their shift done
Never having seen the sun

Will it become a sacred ground
Foreign tourists gazing round?
Asking if there once worked here
Way beneath the pit-head gear
Empty trucks once filled with coal
Lined up like men on the dole
Will they ever he used again
Or left for scrap just like the men?

There'll always be a happy hour
For those with money, jobs and power
They'll never realise the hurt
They cause to men they treat like dirt.

A short, boring piece. Call it a palate cleanser.

It was when the waiter came back and told me that they were out of bananas that I knew it was going to be a bad day. Call me a creature of habit, but Saturday means banana split and looking at the ships at the Schiffsbegrüßungsanlage. It's one of those great German words that you never get tired of saying. It means something like ship-greeting-facility. I used to come here with Marlene, and even when she used one of these lazy Saturday afternoons to break up with me, it didn't sour me on the place.

I told the waiter that I'd have the Schwarzwalder sundae instead. Chocolate and vanilla ice cream with whipped cream and kirschwasser. That's about as wild as it gets these days. A train rumbled past on the bridge above, and the waiter hurried off to get me my treat. My prize for getting through another week of being alive. I poured coffee from the tiny stainless steel pot. Lots of milk. No surprises.

Right outside the windows were the Kiel Canal, and a great container ship was just passing by. In the small white gazebo-like structure, a retired sailor was reciting fact about it. Registered in the Isle of man, en route from Göteborg to Rotterdam with a cargo of toys of all things. People looked up from their coffee and cake and waved, as the PA system played a tinny version of Rule Britannia.

Slowly the enormous ship glid past, and my ice cream arrived. I took the opportunity to order more coffee. I sure wasn't going home anytime soon.
Marlene had not asked me where the relationship was going. Instead she had flat-out stated “This is going nowhere.” She was sorry, she said, but she would not put her life on hold just because I was a nice guy. I can't really blame her. It's gotta be annoying to be in a relationship with a guy who generally thinks that outside was hostile. Generally speaking I mean. Bigger decisions than ice cream tends to fluster me. I like knowing what to expect.

When the container ship had passed, the transporter bridge started moving outside, and I turned my head to see it. In my opinion it is a small wonder. A small ferry suspended by wires from the underside of the rust-red railroad bridge. This time it carried four cars and a small number of passengers. One had a dog, and I could see some of the passengers patting and fussing over it.

It was starting to get dark, and I could only dimly make out the man in the gazebo. He was looking through his binoculars in anticipation of another ship. The wheels of the world ground on. The ice cream was good.