hello September

It rained and it got hot again and the river is a tiny but fuller. One of the ferries that had to stop all of August due to the low water level is running again but only for pedestrians and bicycles. The sky is gorgeous. I have made an effort to get up really early and walk down to the river just after sunrise and on for a while, testing how far the foot will carry.

There are four more physiotherapy sessions left in the foot recovery treatment. I have been told that I have come a long way and I agree, I have also been told that one or two or four of the tendons responsible for whatever - lifting or holding or putting the foot down - have not recovered and also some nerves have stopped working for now. So I have to concentrate on muscles and give them hell to pick up the job. It's a task. I accept. I can walk. And on Sunday, I cycled 50 km along the vast apple orchards to the west and through forests and up onto hills. What I need is here.

Also, this happened one evening. I was cycling along the river just before sunset on a stretch where I was alone when I heard a female voice calling Hallo, Hallo and it turned out to be of a young woman who had slipped on one of the stony walkways down to the river which are accessible now with the water so low (it's very tempting to go there, walking on the river bed). Her left ankle looked exactly like my right one looked when I had slipped on the path in the forest in Wellington. She had no mobile phone with her, neither had I but I found a young man who sat on a bench a bit further down. Turned out he was Aladin, a Syrian refugee who works in the whole food store with the vegetables. We called emergencies and waited with her until the ambulance and the medics arrived. The medic mentioned to me that it looks like a fractured ankle. This is how I pay back fate it seems.

We are still arguing here in this house, a lot. And then we make up, also a lot. We have no idea where this will lead us. I am glad this summer is coming to an end.

This here is from my current read, the very dystopian novel "All the water in the world", by Eiren Caffall (2024), which is a bit like "Station Eleven" by Emily St. John Mandel (2014) - which BTW was made into an amazing TV series. 

This morning I met with a group of women over 65 to find a way to pool our energies and ideas into working for a liveable future for our and all grandchildren, grannies for future.

This evening, we are off to a rally in the city center, one of many across the country, to show the 55% in the small German state of Saxony-Anhalt who did not vote for the fascists last Sunday that we are on their side. 

Life is hard, life is full.