Remember the architecture/planning fail that I wrote about in January -- the sharply sloping sidewalk in front of Five Guys on the high street? Well, the hideous plastic barriers have disappeared (after months) and in their place are these two massive wooden planters.
(I took one picture walking to work and one walking home, so you're seeing them from both directions, in morning and evening!)
I suppose this is aesthetically better than the barriers, but they look a little precarious, don't they? I hope that wood is strong. Also, they look like they've been outside for a while already, so I suspect they came from somewhere else. They are used planters -- or perhaps I should say pre-owned. Repurposed.
If I'd built them I'd have specified a sloping bottom so the planters themselves sat even. But maybe that would have been more money than anyone wanted to invest.
Today I'm back at work for that conference. In fact I'm about to get ready to leave. Registration starts at 7:45 a.m.!
I had a nice, leisurely walk to work yesterday. Now that the weather has warmed up a bit and the sun is shining, I'm really enjoying that time to myself. I was running a little late, but I didn't feel any pressure to get there precisely on time or to hurry. My supervisor is at a conference in Frankfurt, and the school will survive without me for a few extra minutes. In fact I took some pictures, listened to music and stopped for a take-away coffee along the way.
I wound up at my desk eleven minutes late. My co-worker was there and the library was quiet, so she wasn't concerned at all.
I feel like I give the impression on this blog that I am kind of a slacker, wandering in a few minutes late and reading at my desk during downtime. Honestly, I don't think I am. (Then again, do slackers recognize that tendency in themselves?) Some days I'm early to work, and I do stay very busy overall. I suppose, like anyone with the so-called "Protestant work ethic" (whatever that is), I'm more conflicted about stray moments of workday leisure so I write about them more.
But I also find that as I get older, I'm less concerned about stuff like that. Carpe diem, right? Enjoy the moments as they come.
Anyway, it was a glorious day, very low-key. I got everything done I needed to do, like re-shelving a cartload of books about Ancient Greece checked out by the 5th Grade, and still had moments to relax, chat with the kids and be a kinder, more generous presence than the harried librarian I sometimes feel like lately.
Here are our front-porch plants. Those violas (or pansies?) are the ones I found last fall in St. John's Wood. They survived the winter just fine. I have a hanging basket of them on the back patio, also blooming up a storm. The orange flower is an African daisy (Osteospermum).
Words of wisdom from some fortune cookies we've had hanging around the kitchen for a couple of weeks, the remnants of a Chinese take-away. I'm not a huge fan of fortune cookies so they tend to linger until I figure out what to do with them. I crumbled these two up as a crunchy topping for last night's ice cream, which I thought was a pretty clever way to dispose of them.
That second one made me glad I took the time to enjoy my walk to work! (Top photo: The morning bread delivery at a restaurant on my route to work, sitting inside on a table. I like the reflective layers in this photo, even showing my hands and my phone.)
I had a very slow day in the library yesterday. But in a way I'm glad because I'm going to be working this weekend. My co-worker arranged a conference of European school librarians on Friday and Saturday, and since it's happening at our school I couldn't very well not attend. Maybe I'll learn something. Who knows?
There is construction everywhere at the moment. Parts of Finchley Road are closed near the school for some kind of water works (above)...
...and the entrance to Billy Fury Way (that alley between the two buildings) is closed on West End Lane. I have no idea what's happening here and Google can't seem to tell me, but there's a notice posted at the site so maybe I just need to read it a bit more closely. This sidewalk is a very busy path between West Hampstead's three tube and train stations -- driving all those pedestrians into the street (or across it) seems pretty hazardous, even temporarily.
As a friend of mine used to say, "Will the world ever be finished?"
Dave and I started "The White Lotus" last night. We're two episodes in already, but I dozed off about halfway through the second (a fault of fatigue, not the show) so I need a recap. I'll re-watch it this evening.
Yesterday I got rather exasperated that there was yet another article about "Severance" in The New York Times. The NYT folks are obsessed with that show. They've run at least 14 articles about it in the past month, according to the somewhat wonky search function on the web site, and 24 since January. For a single TV show in the newspaper of record, that seems unprecedented. There have been articles about the building where it's filmed, the food in the show, the "dystopian signifiers" in the clocks and cubicles, the paranoia depicted in the show's relationships, and the proposition that it's "a brutal tale of female self-loathing." It's to the point that yesterday I tried to leave a comment on the most recent article to say "ENOUGH WITH 'SEVERANCE' ALREADY!" But the site wasn't accepting coments on that story, so I'll leave my feedback here.
A mostly pictorial post today, since I don't have much news. Mrs. Russia is silent upstairs -- so silent, in fact, that I think they may be out of town, which would explain the early rising yesterday. (But not the early vacuuming.)
Here's a beautiful tree I passed on my walk home yesterday evening. I'm going to try to get a better shot of it when the sun is on it, because this shadowy picture doesn't quite do it justice.
Remember how I mentioned that a building on the high street was struck by lightning over the weekend? Well, here it is. You can see the top of that gable is blown off. I imagine that pipe, which looks like plastic but I believe is actually metal, served as a giant lightning rod. I wonder what poor soul lives in that top flat. They must have felt a jolt.
Rubble rained down in the street after the strike. It's all still lying in the gutter.
And remember how I told you Olga likes to sniff garbage on our walks? Well, here she is in full garbage mode, with her nose entirely inside that bag. I hear you saying, "Oh, Steve, you shouldn't let her do that! She might eat something dangerous!" All I can say in my defense is that she's a lot stronger than she looks and walking her is exhausting because she pulls for every garbage bag she sees. I get tired of the fight. I usually manage to keep her from eating anything, unless I'm sure it's harmless.
Finally, one of the school moms brought me some flowers yesterday -- a pink Ranunculus and a yellow tulip. She came in as I was working and wordlessly set them on my desk, which was so nice. There was an event going on so I silently mouthed "Thank you!" to her.
I showed you my desk from the other side a few days ago, so here's what it looks like from the front. Those little friendship bracelets were lost in the library and I set them there thinking someone might reclaim them, but no one ever has. I found the animals years ago in a storage cabinet and put them out for some colorful decoration. The parrot is a Beanie Baby ("Jabber"), and that little blue thing is a rhinoceros.
I woke up on the cranky side of the bed this morning because the first thing I heard, upon slowly rising from the fog of sleep at 5 a.m., was Mrs. Russia running her vacuum cleaner! AT FIVE IN THE MORNING! I went out and rang her doorbell to ask her to stop, but she wouldn't answer the door. I'm sure she knew I was annoyed. I'm hearing a lot of thumping around up there -- she must be in a snit about something herself. (Probably me ringing her doorbell.)
Or maybe they're packing up to travel somewhere. Or maybe they're MOVING! Wouldn't that be fab?!
Yesterday was pretty slow in the library. My supervisor was in managerial training all day, so I was left to my own devices, which I love. It was a bright sunny day and I walked both ways to work so I got lots of outdoor time, too.
In the evening, Dave and I watched a documentary on Netflix about the tornado that leveled Joplin, Mo., a couple of years ago. It was very good and used a lot of first-hand videos and recordings, so you could see the storm as it happened. I've never been in or even near a tornado so it's hard for me to imagine storm forces like that. Florida has tornadoes but they are not of the magnitude of those gigantic Midwestern twisters.
Meanwhile I'm reading about Donald Trump's aides texting top-secret war plans to each other on a commercial messaging app. Why didn't they just post them on Facebook? To once again quote my former co-worker Tabatha: "You got to laugh to keep from cryin'."
After spending the morning on housekeeping -- mostly dishes from our dinner party, which I managed to do in three rather than four dishwasher-loads -- I headed out into the city yesterday for some urban adventures.
Remember how I went to the Leigh Bowery show at the Tate a couple of weeks ago, but couldn't stay long enough to see the whole thing? Well, I decided to go back and take it all in this time.
First, I got online and joined the Tate as a member. I've been meaning to do it for a while. Membership entitles me to free entry to their special exhibits, as well as access to their members' cafes and some other perks. (I think there's also a magazine, which is more curse than blessing, but whatever.) Then I set out for the museum on the tube.
My plans were immediately thrown when I learned that Southwark station, the tube station closest to the Tate Modern, was closed. I think this was for engineering works. I wound up having to go to London Bridge and then walk back through Borough Market and along the river to the museum.
The show was excellent and I'm so glad I went back. Bowery was a fascinating character, so inventive and original. I was in awe of his creativity, which began with astonishing clothes and eventually segued to padded, sculpted wearable art like his Mrs. Peanut outfit.
He also posed for painter Lucian Freud, whose canvases of Bowery are included in the show. It was an interesting exhibit encompassing not only fashion but video, music, performance, painting and photography, and bits of cultural paraphernalia as small as postcards, letters and Polaroid prints. (You know I loved that!)
Afterwards I went to the Tate's members' cafe, thinking I might sit and have a coffee. Well, the place was packed, and there were no free tables, so the best I could do was take a picture of its expansive view over the Thames and St. Paul's Cathedral.
Afterwards, to avoid going back to London Bridge, I decided to walk along the South Bank. I eventually crossed the river on the pedestrian paths next to the Hungerford Bridge and made my way through Trafalgar Square to Piccadilly, where I caught a bus.
Here's a little video of my pedestrian activities. You will see or hear:
1. The bells tolling at Southwark Cathedral 2. The view from the pedestrian bridge, known as the Golden Jubilee Bridges 3. A peg-legged pigeon at Trafalgar Square 4. The artwork on the square's Fourth Plinth, called "Mil Veces un Instante," or "A Thousand Times in an Instant," by Mexican artist Teresa Margolles. It's made of plaster casts of the faces of transgender, non-binary and gender-nonconforming people, meant to raise awareness of the violence so many of them face.
The bus home was diverted through Westminster by pro-Palestine demonstrations, but by the time it got to St. John's Wood and West Hampstead it was back on its regular route. I enjoyed sitting on the upper deck and watching the world go by; much slower than the tube but also much more fulfilling.
I love the little surprises that inevitably come with the view -- like four people carrying a large mattress through St. John's Wood. Urban life! In cities, people live right out in the open, carrying their stuff through the streets and rubbing elbows with passers-by, for better or worse. In most of America they and their mattress would be concealed in a car or truck. (Well, granted, the mattress might be tied to the top.)
Anyway, it was a good day and I intend to use my Tate membership for a few more exhibits in coming months!
Our neighbor's gigantic clematis vine is blooming like crazy, and it's visible from our living room through a gap in the trees and over the fence. I feel certain I've posted a similar picture in past years but if you're like me you won't get tired of seeing that amazing cloud of blossoms.
I was a whirlwind yesterday morning. I wanted to discard a couple of our orchids, which after several years of good service had died (or were dying), but in both pots young maidenhair ferns had taken root. We have several mature maidenhairs and I guess they sent spores out into the world that somehow took hold in these orchid pots. Anyway, I wanted to save the ferns, and that meant repotting, which meant getting access to the potting compost, which meant cleaning out the shed.
You see how this goes. One thing leads to another and pretty soon you're doing five interrelated tasks.
At the end of it all, I'd cleaned and organized the shed, and repotted not only the fern but the ficus tree and another fern. I threw away some broken terra cotta pots and neatened up the patio. Then I repotted our red pelargonium, which we've had since we lived in Notting Hill (eleven years ago) and which has been in the same pot for about a decade, I think. This poor plant! I tipped it over to remove the root ball and the soil was so depleted, so spent, that it poured out of the pot like dry sand and left the sparse roots utterly bare. It should be happy in some new, more nutritious dirt.
Meanwhile, in the garden, I couldn't resist another picture of our Leucojum...
...and here's our spotted lungwort, blooming up a storm.
Speaking of storms, in the afternoon we were supposed to get rain, which we sorely need. Around 3 p.m. we began getting booming thunder, which was quite dramatic.
As you can see, Olga isn't fazed by thunder. Unlike Ellen's dog Minnie and many other sensitive canines, she never has been, even when she could hear better. It was loud enough this time around that it caused her to open her eyes, so we know she can hear something, or perhaps just feel the rumble -- but she didn't react otherwise.
There were several bright flashes of lightning and quite loud bangs, and soon we began hearing sirens. "Something's happening out there," I said to Dave, and sure enough, apparently lightning hit a building near the tube station, casting concrete rubble onto the street.
The rain itself turned out to be a bit of a disappointment -- just a spattering. We need more than that. Sound and fury signifying nothing, except for the people near (or in) that damaged building.
In the evening we had Dave's co-workers Darlene and Ed over for dinner, which meant an afternoon of cleaning the house. They're about to leave London (Darlene was on a temporary contract, and Ed was a substitute teacher) so we wanted to thank them and wish them well. Dave made a pot roast with his signature scallop & orange starter, and they brought a lemon tart for dessert. They also gave us several bottles of miscellaneous alcohol from their liquor cabinet, so we're stocked with more limoncello and port and a few other things that we'd normally never buy but might eventually drink. Might.
We went to bed at 11 p.m. (Olga was very confused because this is easily an hour later than we'd normally go to sleep) and this morning I have a second dishwasher load of dishes churning away. There are probably two more loads to go. Dave can really tear up a kitchen when he cooks!
