So I went to the excellent Mark's Warehouse and bought four t-shirts on sale, in colours, with pockets. And discovered as-I-might-have-known that unless the day is a narrow margin between 12 and 14C, t-shirts are just too hot for work. Should have remembered that even in winter I regularly take my long sleeve shirt off and work in my tank top.
My excellent striped pair of (lounge) pants are still excellent. I bought a second pair, a size larger, and who knows how, but they at once ripped in the butt: not a seam, but a triangular flap torn loose. The material alas is thin enough that, while perfect for summer, it's clearly likely to unravel after contact with any sharp object. So I bought two more pairs in a different pattern from the same company in the same style: but they turn out to be thicker, and an XL in them is a size bigger than XL in the stripey ones, and they will not do, they will not do old shoe, not when the deadly heat begins, since even mild warmth reveals their shortcomings. I should just wash them with every wash I do and hope to take some of the stiffness out.
Meanwhile a crisis was threatening early next week: accidental double-booking, no one available to cover. I found someone who could do my Tuesday shift, and figured ways to work around the Wednesday one, so as to be able- though desperately unwilling- to cover the hours if needed. My elbows hurt and my knees lock and my neck has gone back to twinging and clunking at random. Arrived at work today to discover crisis has been solved after all, so now I have a four-day weekend ahead of me where I need only relax and not poke various bits of me to see if they're still semi-functional. Yay me.
The lilacs are *still* in a 75% state of bloom, clearly unwilling to entrust themselves to a city that might snow on them without warning. The temps are now normal or a little above and next week is supposed to be hot. So probably I should cut some of my bounty and get it into water before the lilacs decide to wither in the heat. Just as the beeyootiful Korean ginger tree down the street sent its perfume out for less than a week before the little blossoms began to brown at the edges. (I should mention that the lilac bush is now taller than the lilac tree was when the latter was cut down in 2010. Hanh.)