Dog days

I may not have been precise enough. Yes. I do know about the movie Dog Day Afternoon.  And I have heard the phrase.  I meant to wonder if anyone actually used the phrase. And specifically for a heat wave -while it is occurring.  The French English dictionary shows scorcher for a definition.  I’d say scorcher before I’d say dog days. 

Quick! Open the windows!

Nope, not Windows 10. Or even 7.  The living room windows.  And not for the breeze, for the light on a cloudy day. No.  For the silence.

Seems contradictory?  I have been watching Chasseurs d’Appart on French TV.  And the people looking for the apartments or houses all open the windows to hear the noise!  How much street noise will bother them?

For me, it’s time to open the windows because the workers across the street are on lunch break!  An occasional motorcycle or truck is nothing to the RRRR beep beep that goes on.

I was excited yesterday when I looked down to see no dumpsters!  That seemed to signal that they had reached the end of clearing out the building of miscellaneous dirt and bricks.  Finally!  But no.  This morning at 7:30 which is legally the earliest they can make noise there was big truck noise and lots of backing up beeps.  A huge truck delivering not one but two dumpsters.  Sigh.

Fortunately, the heat wave has melted away and it is in the 70s and possible for me to close the windows on the street side to block out some of the noise.

Speaking of heat wave, the French call it canicule which in my French English dictionary translates to Heat wave or Scorcher.  A British friend of a French friend told her it was dog days…  when it gets really hot.  We had a brief argument because I said that was not the translation.  She said cani comes from dog… so dog days sounded right.   On further research, dog days of summer refers to the time when the Dog Star, Sirius, shows up again in the night sky – in the summer.  So my question for you, dear reader, do you ever use that expression the dog days?

Thanks for your participation.  And by the way, while my friend and I stood in line for the David Hockney Retrospective at the Centre Pompidou, we wondered why the lines were so long.  What were so many people coming to see?  I suggested we ask the gentleman in front of us.  He had started a conversation with us to ask the time – he was waiting for his wife to join him.  But my French friend said no we can’t ask.  I asked her why.  Seems harmless to me.  She said it was impolite, it seemed  nosey.  Hmm.  I tried to turn it into a sonndage – a survey.  But she wasn’t buying it.

And why am I at home during the day anyway?  It’s Paris, after all!  Well, today Ikea is supposed to call me to tell me the time they will deliver the mattress tomorrow.  I am carrying my phone around in my hand.  And I am to apprehensive to take it outside and maybe end up in a SFR (read AT&T) dead zone and miss the call.  It’s bad enough they will speak French and they will use numbers!  In French!  Yikes.

I do not want to miss the new bed.  I have been waiting almost two months.