May 22. Barbecued in the backyard. Moved the chairs and bench around concentrically every quarter hour to avoid direct sun. As a thunderstorm approached, set up the canopy, secured it roughly with two ropes to prevent it from being carried away by a gust. J gets – after one failed attempt – better at reaching the necessary heat with the charcoal grill. She also has a new armchair made of black tubular steel, in which one can lean back all the way to the horizontal and set the desired angle with two screw handles. When N tries to carry the bench – also made of black tubular steel, but already from last year – overhead to the other side, large amounts of rusty water run out. It scatters in a large arc on the stone tiles, between which the moss is already springing up again, and which we swept in a makeshift manner before the barbecue. We pour some clear water on the rust puddles so that the orange-brown water is rinsed into the cracks between the tiles, because if it remains on the tiles, the stains will not dissolve even during rain showers. The dog that G brought with her roams the garden with awkward curiosity and, when he gets to the part of the board fence under which he would fit, always has to be stopped and brought back with great haste. I enjoy the barbecue and J’s good food, including currywurst, more than the conversation, which remains inert for long stretches.