Vasaras gaismas /// Summer lights

Pēc Ziemassvētkiem un Jaunā gada neliels apjukums, droši vien tāpēc, ka vairāk īsti nevar klausīties Ziemassvētku dziesmas, un pēc mēnesi ilgiem džingl džingl džingl džingl tas zināmu tukšumu ievieš.

Mazliet domāju, ka vajadzētu būt tā, ka visjocīgāk domāt ir par gadalaiku, kurš vissenāk nav bijis, nu, ziemā par pavasari vai rudenī par vasaru. Tomēr šobrīd nav nekā jocīgāka kā domāt par vasaru, un es šodien to diezgan daudz daru. Varbūt tāpēc, ka nepatīk tas, ko es daru, bet nu, katrā ziņā, ir visai ilgpilni apcerēt vasaras gaismu, jūnija vēja neuzbāzīgumu un tādu smuku pelēcīgu zaļumu, kad koki saplaukuši un vairs nav pirmajā košumā. Es noteikti gribēšu arī pavasari, man jau patīk pavasaris, un maijs un septembris ir mani mīļākie mēneši drēbju ziņā - nav pārāk auksti un nav pārāk karsti. Šopavasar pavisam noteikti gribēšu, lai man ir kaut kas līdzīgs britu skolēnu formai, būtu diezgan bēdīgi, ja man būtu pavasarī jāstaigā bez atsaucēm uz Karalisti.

Kad es domāju par vasaru, man nāk prātā baltas kokvilnas kleitas zaļā zālītē un saulainā gaismiņā, un otrs ir viens sens brīdis, kad man bija 15 gadi, bija diena, es biju tikko atbraukusi no Stokholmas, un tas deva svaiguma piesitienu, it kā nekas tik pilnīgs agrāk nebūtu bijis, jo pāris dienas es nebiju bijusi mājās. Es sēdēju gultā, ēdu tomātmaizi un skatījos uz kalendāru, kur bija gleznas reprodukcija ar vasarīgām mājiņām un dažiem izkārtas veļas gabaliem, un bija ļoti viegli iedomāties, ka es tur kaut kur varētu pastaigāties. Logs bija vaļā, aizkari šūpojās šurpu turpu, un no pagalma attāla rotaļlaukuma nāca saplūdušas bērnu klaigas. Man liekas, tās attālinātās bērnu klaigas ir tik vasarīgi iezīmīga skaņa, ziemā tā nekad nav.

Vēl es gribētu, lai man būtu suns, ar ko iet pastaigāties, un kuru es šausmīgi mīlētu.

^^^^^

After Christmas and New Year there comes a little confusion, probably because of not really being able to listen to Christmas songs anymore, and after a month of jingle jingle jingle jingle it does introduce to some emptiness. To some extent I think that it should be the most strangest to think about the season which has not been for the longest, like to think about spring in the winter and in the autumn about the summer. For all that right now there is nothing stranger than thinking about summer, and I do it quite a lot these days. Maybe it is because I do not really like what I am doing right now, well, anyways, it is so wistful to contemplate on summer light, unobstrusiveness of June wind and pretty greyish greenness when the trees have already come into leaf and not in the first fresh brightness anymore. I will certainly want the spring too, I like spring, and May and September are my favorite months regarding clothing as it is neither too cold nor hot. For this spring I will definitely crave to own something that resembles British school uniform. It would be so sad to walk around in this spring without any references to UK.

When I am thinking about summer, I recall white cotton dresses on green lawns and in sunny lights, and then there is one ancient moment of 15 years old me. It was midday then, I had just arrived from Stockholm, it added a touch of freshness, as nothing as complete and perfect had happened before, possibly since I had not been home for a couple of days. I was sitting on my bed, eating a slice of bread topped with tomato and looking at the calender which displayed a reproduction of a painting of summery houses and some hanging pieces of bed linen, and it was so easy to imagine myself wandering between those tiny streets. The window was open, the curtain swinging back and forth in the wind, and from a distant playground in the yard indistinct children's shouting came into the room. I think distant children's shouting is such a characteristic sound for summer, there is no such thing in wintertime.

And I wish I had a dog to go to walk with, and whom I terribly loved.

Vimbldonas kūciņa (zemesnes ar putukrējumu) Vimbldonas laikā /// Wimbledon cupcake (strawberries & cream) during Wimbledon

Likijs

saviļņojoša siera - aveņu kūka no Katrīnas /// stirring raspberry cheesecake from Katrina

Katrīna

Katrīnas foto /// picture by Katrina

pēcpusdienas kafija /// afternoon coffee

Lāsma

ābeļdārzs /// apple orchard

mazie mīluļi /// sweeties

Bērnu Ziemassvētku koris /// Children Christmas choir

Katru gadu no jauna mūsu skolas korītis, kas, protams, nebija nekāds dižulis, un pirmā balss skanēja īpaši pīkstulīgi, pēdējā skolas dienā pirms Ziemassvētkiem dziedāja Mārtiņa baznīcā. Tas bija tāds ļoti paredzams notikums, kuru katru gadu gribējās. Tā jau tur nebija nekas sevišķi foršs, agri jāceļas, jāsēž aukstā baznīcā un vēl uz kādu mēģinājumu jāaiziet, un ne-koristiem kopā ar klases audzinātāju apmeklēt Ziemassvētku koncertu šķita gatavā bezjēdzība, taču apstākļu kopums radīja zināmu tīksmi.

Uz baznīcu mēs vienmēr gājām pa vienu un to pašu ceļu - taisnu ielu, kas veda no skolas līdz baznīcas. Tas kādreiz noteikti bija paredzēts kā oficiālais ceļš uz baznīcu. Reizēm nešpetni puteņoja, skolnieciņu ģīmīšos pūta sniega vērpetes, un brišana bija pagalam lēna. Citreiz bija diezgan nožēlojams slapjdraņķis, vai arī putni vīteroja pavasarīgās noskaņās un sauļojās, uz koku zariem izlaidušies. Pie ielas, kas koristu baru šķīra no baznīcas, vienmēr bija noorganizēts policists (vai arī vairāki), uz brīdi apturēja satiksmi, un visi pārtuntoļoja pāri.

Tā kā vītņu kāpnes uz ērģeļu un kora balkonu bija šauras, un vispār vietas maz, diriģents lejā pie baznīcas ieejas izrādīja neremdināmu centību sadalīt visus pa balsīm pirms kāpšanas augšā, un kaut kas jau viņam arī izdevās. Pulciņi sāka mazliet vairāk čalot savas balss ietvaros. Ja ļoti gribējās aizvadīt koncertu kopā ar klasesbiedriņiem no citas balss, varēja mēģināt izlikties par citu balsi. Es kaut kad iefiltrējos 3. balsī, neviens nelikās ne zinis, es sēdēju blakus draudzenēm, un mēs mainījāmies ar saldumiem, ko, ļoti iespējams, bijām tikko viena otrai uzdāvinājušas.
Vienu gadu, kad es biju kādā 6. klasē, es nekur neiefīrējos, un mēģinājumu pavadīju stūrītī pie ērģelēm un kaut kādiem koristu soliņiem Harija Potera sabiedrībā. Mazliet pirms Ziemassvētkiem biju sākusi lasīt, un atrauties nebija tik viegli, Poters taču. Pašā koncertā es gluži braši treļļoju un vīteroju "Ak Tu, priecīga!", "Es skaistu rozīt' zinu" un citas dziesmas, kas katru gadu bija gandrīz vienas un tās pašas. Koncertos pa vidam parunāja mācītājs, reizēm visu runu gandrīz vienā tonī, ērģelnieks paspēlēja gabaliņus (vēlāk mūsu korim uzradās koncertmeistars, kas pats prata spēlēt ērģēles, un to viņš arī darīja).

Tad mēs visi, šoreiz klases audzinātāju pavadīti un izņēmuma gadījumā kāda zēna - nekorista papildināti, soļojām atpakaļ uz skolu pēc liecībām. Tur viss notika samērā ātri, liecības, īpatnēji atzinības raksti, mandarīni un piparkūkas. Ziemassvētku koncerts baznīcā bija savā ziņā Ziemassvēcības garants. Pat tad, kad pēc skolas braucām mājās, un drīzāk izskatījās, ka nākamajā dienā mēs svinēsim Lieldienas, nevis pušķosim eglīti, banzīcā bija izskatījies tāpat kā vienmēr, dziesmas biju akurāt tās pašas, un mēs sēdējām tieši tikpat satuntuļojušies, jo pavasarīgums gaisā nelika baznīcas telpām būt siltākām.

^^^^^

Every year again our little School Choir, which obviously was far from spectacular, and the Sopranos were particularly squeaky, on the last day before Christmas holidays sang in the St. Martins Church. It was such a predictable event which I was kind of looking forward to every year. There wasn't anything that would count as obviously enjoyable; we had to sit in a chilly church, wake up early and attend at least some rehearsals. Non-singers found the attending of Christmas concert quite useless, and it actually pretty much was, still all the circumstances made it quite enjoyable.

We always took the same way to the church - there was a straight street between our school and the church. Long time ago it served as the official way to the church, no doubt about that. Sometimes there happened to be a snowstorm, school kids faces were covered by snowflakes, and the walking tended to be quite slow. Another time there was a miserable slush, or birds were twittering in spring-like spirits, sunbathing on the branches. At the street which separated the singers pack from the church, a policeman (or several ones) always awaited the kids to stop the traffic and let them paddle over the street.

Since the winding stair to the organ and choir balcony (or whatever is its proper name) was narrow, and there was little place, down at the entrance the conductor demonstrated unquenchable diligence to divide everyone into the types of voices, and one cannot say he had no success at all, he did succeed a little. The cluster started to chat slightly more within group of their voice type pals. If you were eager to pass the concert next to your classmates for another voice group, you could try to pretend to be Mezzo Soprano instead of Soprano, for instance. Once I mixed with Altos, no one cared about it, I was sitting next to my girl friends and we were exchanging candies, which we highly possibly had just given each other as Christmas gifts.
Once when I might have been in the 6th year, I didn't join anyone else and spent the rehearsal in the corner next to the organ and some benches for choristers in the dear company of Harry Potter. Shortly before Christmas I had just started to read it, and it wasn't that easy to draw myself away, it was Harry Potter after all. During the concert I was warbling as a birdie and twittered "Oh How Joyfully", "Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming" and other Christmas corals which were quite the same year after year. In between all that singing the minister said something, sometimes keeping all his speech almost in the same pitch, the organist played some pieces (at some point of time our choir got an accompanist who knew to play organ, and that is what he did in the church concerts).

Then all of us, on the way back accompanied by our teacher and occasionally increased in numbers by some non-singing boys, marched back to the school to pick up our school-reports. It went quick - reports, bizarre diplomas, mandarins and gingerbread. The Christmas concert in the church used to be some sort of a guarantee for Christmas. Even when after the school we were riding home and it looked like we would rather celebrate Easter the very next day instead of decorating the Christmas-tree, in the church it was always the same. The corals were exactly the same, and we were sitting there as wrapped into clothes as always, since the springlyness in the air didn't warm up the church.

kad Ēriks slēpjas kastē zem cepures, viņš izskatās pēc Runča zābakos /// when Eriks is hiding in a box under a hat, he makes me think of Puss in Boots

Ziemassvētku kūka ar pār sniegotu lauku brienoša rūķa dekoru /// Christmas fruit cake with a 'Christmas dwarf or Santa Claus wading through snow-covered field' decor

eglīšu mantiņas sēne un kurpes /// Christmas decorations - a mushroom and shoes

neglīti salabots mīļš zaķītis /// ugly fixed beloved hare

egļu mantiņa pūce /// tree decoration owl

manas dāvanas portrets /// the potrait of a gift of mine

vienīgie āmuļi mājā /// the only mistletoe in the house

balts krēsls /// white chair

gani un viņu aitas no karuseļa, 2. stāvs /// shepherds and their sheep from Christmas Carousel, 1st floor

ķēniņi ar dāvanām, Marija un Jēzus no 1. stāva /// kings with gifts, Mary and Jesus from ground floor

viesības Pirmajos Ziemassvētkos /// Christmas Day Party

dāvana /// gift

Ēriks rīkojas /// Eriks takes action

Reiz Lāsma pavisam ikdienišķi teica:  "Elīn, nāc ar mani kompānijā paēst!" Kā nu māsai tādā parastā dzīves brīdī atteikt, un es gāju arī. Mūsu kaķis Ēriks jau bija tur un sēdēja uz palodzes.

^^^^^

Once Lasma quite casually said: "Elin, come and join me, I need company for eating!" How could I refuse her in such an ordinary situation, and I did join her. Our cat Eriks was already there sitting on the windowsill.

Noliku uz galda karsta ūdens krūzi tējai un grasījos padot Lāsmai kafijas kanniņu. /// I put a mug of hot water for tea on the table and was about to hand Lasma a press pot with coffee.

Es vienkārši biju jauka un izpalīdzēju. /// I was just being nice and helpful.

Lāsma bija uzsmērējusi maizīti un gatava dzert kafiju. /// Lasma had already made a sandwich and was ready for coffee.

Brīdī, kad es biju pacēlusi kafiju un liku to uz galda, Ēriks izdomāja lekt nost no palodzes. /// When I was placing coffee on the table, Eriks had decided to leave the windowsill and jump.

Lēcienā viņš aizķēra dzērveņu bļodu un uztraucās virsū manai rokai ar kafiju. Bļoda apgāzās un nogāza krūzīti ar karsto ūdeni, dzērvenes izbira. Man uz rokas trāpīja karstā kafija, es iespiedzos un izmetu kafijas presi no rokām. /// While jumping, Eriks touched a bowl of cranberries and crossed my hand holding the coffee press. The bowl toppled, the mug with the hot water in it, touched by the bowl, feel down, and the cranberries fell out. The hot coffee hit my hand, I screamed and lost hold of the coffee press.

Lāsma sēdēja aiz galda un palēlinājumā vēroja, kā tik daudzas lietas notiek vienlaicīgi. /// Lasma was sitting behind the table and watching in slow-motion several things to happen at the same time.

Tas bija sāpīgi, es sabēdājos un metos uz vannasistabu. Ēriks kā bulta, karstajiem šķidrumiem un dzērveņu lēveņiem pakaļ dzenoties, manāmi sabijies metās ārā no virtuves. /// It hurt, I got sad and rushed to the bathroom. In the blink of an eye Eriks, noticeably frightened and followed by hot liquids and cranberry army, ran out of the kitchen.

Karstais ūdens un kafija bija salijuši uz grīdas, es paslīdēju un nokritu.  /// The floor was covered with hot water and coffee, I slipped and fell down.

Nokritu, un man virsū uzgāzās tukšas vīna pudeles un sīpoli, cik briesmīgi. Es īsti nezinu kā, droši vien viņus krītot iztraucēju. Tad man patiešām uznāca izmisums un es sāku raudāt. /// I fell down and empty wine bottles and onions fell on top of me, how horribly. I don't exactly know how did this happen, I guess I must have disturbed them whilst falling down. Then I really felt desperate and, tears started to drop.

Piecēlos, skaloju cietušo roku aukstā ūdenī un turpināju raudāt. /// I got up, put my victim hand under cold water and kept crying.

Es skumu vannasistabā, /// I was sobbing in the bathroom,

un istabā uz gultas Ēriks bēdājās un mazgāja savus pušumiņus. /// and on the sofa in the room Eriks was sobbing and trying to clean his wounds.

Lāsma slaucīja kafiju un ūdeni un vāca kopā krūzītes lauskas, kafijas preses lauskas un dzērvenes. /// Lasma swept the floor and picked up the shivers of mug and coffee press, and cranberries.

Ļoti īsā brīdī divi mājas iemītnieki bija apskādējušies, sasisti divi trauki, grīda noklāta ar ļoti daudz ko, un visi tādi bēdīgi. Ēriks vēl vairākas dienas dziedēja savus pušumiņus. /// Withing few moments two members of family had gotten hurt, a mug and a French press got broken, the floor covered with pretty much of everything, and everyone got a little sad. Some days later Eriks was still healing his wounds.

Trešdiena vislabākā diena no visām /// Wednesday the best day of all

Arī pašiem ilgākajiem šī gada izslavētākā kāzu datuma medusmēnešiem vajadzētu būt beigušamies, un arī paši pēdējie jaunlaulātie ir atgriezušies savos laulības mitekļos, ja vien viņu medusmēneša plānā neietilpst pusgadu ilgs ceļojums ar jahtu apkārt pasaulei vai brīvprātīgais darbs ar āfrikāņu bērniņiem. Es nevaru īsti spriest par šo jaunlaulāto daudzskaitlīgumu;  novembra 11. datumā nekādas līgavu kaudzītes gar ceļiem un uz tiltiņiem mētājamies nemanīju, dzirdēju tikai par vienām kāzām, un dīvainā kārtā kāzinieku pulciņu manīju iepriekšējās dienas pievakarē. Bet piektdienas 11. datums izskatījās tāpat kā vienmēr. Nu bija jau arī samērā kā vienmēr.

Ja var ticēt britu ticējumiem par kāzām, un man liekas, ka samērā jau var, 11.11.2011. nepavisam nav bijusi tā ļaunākā izvēle, kad slēgt savas sirdis mīlošā savienībā. Britu pantiņi saka, ka, "ja Tu precies nemīlīgā novembrī, tikai prieki nāks, atceries", un kurš "precēts zem novembra miglas plīvuriem, tam kāzu gredzenu veiksme skūpstījusi". Nepavisam ne bezcerīgi, vai ne? Neskaidrāk ir ar datuma iekrišanu piektdienā, jo es nesaprotu, ko nozīmē "piektdiena krustiem". Droši vien kaut kas ar Jēzu, bet īsti nav skaidrs, tas labi vai slikti. Pirmajā brīdī šķiet, ka nekas labs tas nevar būt, kas tas uz smagumu un krustu, kas jānes, bet, no otras puses, nez vai Viljams un Ketrīna precētos dienā, kas sola nelaimes vien.

Nevajag nokārt degunu arī, ja nav sanācis apprecēties 11. novembrī, taču būtu pārāk skumīgi to nedarīt datumā, kurā ir daudz vienādu ciparu - 2012. gada 12. decembris pēc britu ticējumiem grasās būt vēl daudzsološāks: "kad decembra sniegi ātri krīt, precies un īsta mīlestība ilgs" un arī "precēts decembra prieka dienās, mīlestības zvaidznes spīd spožāk gadu no gada", turklāt, pēc maniem pētījumiem, 12. decembris nākamgad būs trešdienā, un "trešdiena vislabākā diena no visām".

^^^^^

Now is the time even for the longest of all honeymoons of the most praised wedding date of the year to be over, and even the very last newlyweds should have arrived in their matrimony dwelling by now (unless they had planned for their honeymoon to sail around the world or to do voluntary work for African kids). Unfortunately I cannot judge fairly the quantity of newlyweds; on the 11th day of November I did not notice any heaps of brides covering bridges or laying along the roads, I have heard of only one wedding taking place on that day, and strangely enough I spotted a wedding group on the previous afternoon. But Friday 11th November looked like any other Friday. And it actually was quite the same as always.

If we can trust British wedding superstitions, and I believe we can do that quite well, 11/11/2011 is nowhere near the worst choice for the date when to bring together hearts in a loving union. British wedding poems say that "if you wed in bleak November, only joys will come, remember" and "married in veils of November mist, fortune your wedding ring has kissed". Not hopelessly at all, isn't it? This peculiar date's falling on Friday is more vague, since I do not get what does mean "Friday for crosses". Something related with Jesus, I guess, however it is not clear whether that is good or bad. At the first moment it seems that it could not be anything nice, it might be something about heaviness or bearing one's cross, but on the other hand I do not think William and Kate would have chosen wedding date which promises nothing but bad luck.

There is no reason to give up if you did not manage to get married on the 11th of November, still it would be too sad to not to do that on a date which does not contain lots of identical digits. 12/12/2012, according to British superstitions, is going to be even more promising: "when December's snow fall fast, marry and true love will last" and also "married in days of December's cheer, love's star shines brighter from year to year".

Married when the year is new,
He'll be loving, kind and true.
When February birds do mate
You wed nor dread your fate.
If you wed when March winds blow
Joy and sorrow both you'll know.
Marry in April when you can
Joy for maiden and the man.
Marry in the month of May
And you'll surely rue the day.
Marry when the June roses grow
Over land and sea you'll go.
Those who in July do wed
Must labour for their daily bread.
Whoever wed in August be,
Many a change is sure to see.
Marry in September's shine,
Your living will be rich and fine.
If in October you do marry
Love will come, but riches tarry.
If you wed in bleak November
Only joys will come, remember
When December's snows fall fast,
Marry and true love will last.

***
Married in January's roar and rime,
Widowed you'll be before your prime.
Married in February's sleepy weather,
Life you'll tread in time together.
Married when March winds shrill and roar,
Your home will lie on a distant shore.
Married 'neath April's changeful skies,
A checkered path before you lies.
Married when bees o'er May blossoms flit,
Strangers around your board will sit.
Married in month of roses June,
Life will be one long honeymoon.
Married in July with flowers ablaze,
Bitter-sweet memories in after days.
Married in August's heat and drowse,
Lover and friend in your chosen spouse.
Married in September's golden glow,
Smooth and serene your life will go.
Married when leaves in October thin,
Toil and hardships for you begin.
Married in veils of November mist,
Fortune your wedding ring has kissed.
Married in days of December's cheer,
Love's star shines brighter from year to year.

***
Monday for wealth,
Tuesday for health,
Wednesday the best day of all.
Thursday for losses,
Friday for crosses,
Saturday for no luck at all.

Tas pēdējais vispār ir viens no maniem mīļākajiem skaitāmgabaliņiem.
Un bildes par to, ko es darīju 11. novembra priekšpusdienā.

^^^^^
The last one is one of my all time favorite rhymes.
And pictures on what I did on 11th November morning.

sunītis pastaigā /// a dog on a walk

Mednieku bārs /// Hunter's bar