Dies irae!

While there are no screams or burning buildings (yet), the sounds over this little city for a week, off and on (and tonight, nearly constantly) are those of war, to my ears. Actually, they're some sort of fireworks, but the sound is awful. They sound like bombs. The quasi-urchins who live behind my street were setting off such things when I retrieved my bike for errands a little while ago. It was so loud that I knocked on the inside of my "shed's" door, to alert them that the door was about to open, since the sounds seemed directly behind the door. Three little girls were setting off something considerably worse than caps, in a plastic fake flower pot! I told them that they could not do this near my "shed", or even in the street, and that if they did, I would call the police. They rudely retorted that they were allowed to do this until 10pm. I quashed that, saying that the police had sent us all a letter about fireworks and fires, and that we all would call the police immediately. I think I made an impression, and said nothing more to them as I rode off. I'm stunned that this is allowed. The three girls were alone and completely unsupervised (and NOT typical of Dutch children, who are polite). We (my brothers and I) were never allowed free rein with anything like firecrackers (not even with "sparklers"), since a childhood friend of my father's had been partially blinded and burned by such things. So, this is New Year's in Holland: LOTS of fireworks. I'm staying home and maybe going to another neighbor's later. I managed to sprain an ankle (again) on Friday, so am hobbling, with 2005's air cast on my ankle.

The nice thing of today was meeting another neighbor, as I came home, storing my bike. We formally greeted each other, and I asked if it were he, who had practiced the violin a day or so earlier. We exchanged passions about music and agreed to continue in the new year.

Happy New Year's, everyone!