A Fox, a Pig and a Ceilidh

This fox visited our garden yesterday evening, when it was still light enough for me to get a photo of it peering at me from behind the birdbath. I'm always happy when I catch a glimpse of the foxes in daylight so I can appreciate their coloring, and now that we have daylight so late in the day that's likely to happen more.

I spent most of the day reading "London Falling," which I finished. I powered through that book. It was so good -- a real page turner. It tells the true story of a London teenager who died in 2019 in a fall from the balcony of a luxury apartment on the Thames. Why he fell, and the circumstances surrounding his presence in the apartment and what might have happened there, are a mystery. It turned out he was pretending to be the son of a Russian oligarch and had become mixed up with some unsavory characters who wanted his nonexistent money -- and that's the barest of the bare bones of the story. The author wrote an article in The New Yorker about the case in 2024, which he then expanded into this book. An outstanding read! I sent it to school with Dave this morning, to donate it to the library.

It did make me marvel at the underground world of con-men, liars and thieves that surrounds us all every day -- particularly in a cosmopolitan, global financial city like London where people come from all over the world to invest their ill-gotten gains, real or imagined. It's enough to make a person a little paranoid.

On a happier note, I went to my first ceilidh yesterday. It's basically a Scottish dance party, similar to what we'd call square dancing in the USA. In fact I'm sure square dancing derives from these kinds of dances, or maybe vice versa -- one we danced yesterday was the Virginia Reel. The colonials have come back to haunt the motherland!

One of Dave's colleagues in the music department hosted this ceilidh (pronounced "kay-lee") for her birthday, in the gym of a school right around the corner. Dave insisted on the walk over that he wouldn't dance, but of course he wound up dancing twice, one of those times with me. It was fun to watch and I got to chat with some of his co-workers and even some kids from our school, who were there with their parents. I'm glad to be able to say I am no longer a ceilidh virgin.

No. There are no videos. At least not that I'm posting publicly.

On the way home we stopped into Waitrose to pick up some stuff for dinner and I found this item in the garden section. This little ceramic pig is stuffed with sheep's wool, and supposedly, hanging it in the garden gives the birds something to nest with. I bought it for £7 even though it seems a bit ridiculous. Who doesn't want to give their birds a cozy nest?! We'll see if any birds use it.

There's a sucker born every minute, as P.T. Barnum supposedly said. Or was it W.C. Fields? Someone like that.

In the evening I poured a glass of wine, using these glasses that Dave's parents and sister sent me for my retirement. They capture my mood pretty accurately!

Household Stuff, Plus Birds

This is that weird little alcove by our front door that I spent time cleaning up recently. The bird's-foot cactus used to live on that windowsill, and the gigantic mutant ZZ plant was in front of the alcove so I could never get in there to clean. Now we've moved the cactus, discarded the misshapen ZZ, cleaned and dusted and brought in that very sculptural dracaena, which is perfect for that space. My next step is to tidy those wires on the floor behind the unicorn. When the ZZ plant was there we couldn't really see them, but now we can and they must be dealt with.

That dracaena, by the way, is the one I rescued from the lawyer's office.

Yesterday was very domestic. The most exciting thing I did was take our sheets and towels to the laundromat to be washed. (Maybe now that I'm home more I should do them myself -- the main problem is how to dry them, since we no longer have a clothesline and our dryer is too small for an entire king-sized sheet set, unless I want them to come out looking like wadded-up Saran wrap.)

I also mowed the lawn, which is why I took these photos.

Things are sprouting, like the Inula at lower left, even though we've had very little rain and the ground is dry as a bone. I planted my teasel seedlings yesterday and actually bent my spade trying to dig the hole! Once I wet the soil and added some compost it was easier to deal with.
 
You can see my wildlife cam to the right. I've been moving it around the garden trying to get the best perspective.

Here's the garden from the bench. The forget-me-nots and bluebells are blooming up a storm! And as you can see we have one teasel right smack in the middle of the lawn -- not the best place, but that's where it grew. Better than last year when we had about 15 of them out there.

I also got a delivery of some compost and topsoil from Wickes, and used it to repot the citrus tree, which wasn't as root-bound as I thought but still needed a new and bigger pot. I bought Miracle-Gro compost because I was so unhappy with the Wickes brand I bought last year. We'll see if this is any better.

Well, THIS is an exciting blog post, isn't it?!

Steve Reed · Robin & Wren

Yesterday morning I awoke early -- about 4:30 a.m. -- and went out to the dining room to take a look at what was happening on the street. Answer: nothing much. But then I heard this little bird singing away in the pre-dawn darkness, and I opened the window and made a recording. According to my Merlin app there are actually several birds there -- a robin and a wren most prominently, but also a great tit and a European blackbird somewhere in the background. (The birds start about four seconds into the clip.)

Queen's Park

Yesterday was fabulous. I spent the morning reading, working my way into Patrick Radden Keefe's book "London Falling," and had a peanut butter-and-apple sandwich for lunch. And then I took a long walk through Queen's Park, Maida Vale and St. John's Wood before meeting my work colleagues for a pub night retirement send-off.

As always, it felt good to get out and walk with the camera. If you're a longtime blog reader you may remember that right after Dave and I moved here in 2011, I became quite infatuated with London's chicken shops. I never actually ate in them, but I was intrigued by all the creative names that so often made reference to the American South ("Carolina Chicken," "Dixie Chicken" and "Tennesseeland," for example), as well as the remarkably consistent red-and-blue signage. I noticed yesterday that one of the shops I'd photographed before is now closed (above) but it made a great photo subject, with that tattered blue tarp breezily trailing its fibers in the wind.

The bandstand in Queen's Park is looking colorful and quite spiffy.

I walked along one street beneath some ornamental cherry trees that are shedding their blossoms. The ground was carpeted with pink and when the wind blew, the petals rained down. I couldn't quite capture the full effect on video because of course when I pulled out the camera, the wind let up. But you get the idea.

I noticed that all the fox stencils that used to ornament that area are now gone. I was infatuated with those almost as much as the chicken shops.

I stopped at a park off Harrow Road, near the Regent's Canal, and had a coffee. An obviously inebriated man came up to me and said, "Good afternoon, Phil Collins. You look like Phil Collins!"

(For the record, I look nothing like Phil Collins, except that we're both bald. And I had a hat on.)

I gave him a rather pinched smile and he went on his way.

This bike shop selling baby seats came up with a novel way to market them.

The pub gathering in St. John's Wood was terrific -- lots of my colleagues came, as well as Dave, and I got a £200 gift card (!) for gardening supplies, which I will probably use to buy a new garden bench, as ours is literally on its last legs. I also got more cute cards and letters from students and school staff members, as well as a prayer plant from my co-librarian Staci. She made a nice speech that, as I told her afterwards, made me sound way more competent than I actually am. And I told everyone that I felt very lucky because, while I studied journalism in college, I had also considered library science as a possible major -- and how many people get to work in both of the fields that they consider their calling?

You're probably thinking, "Good grief, enough already!" Don't worry -- last night was pretty much my final hurrah, at least until the end-of-the-year luncheon at school in June, which I plan to attend.

Totoro Gets a Bath

This is the candytuft plant that Olga used to wipe her face on after eating every night. Pretty much her whole body, in fact. This spring it's looking unusually lush and blooming up a storm, not having been mauled recently by a dog.

This is one benefit of being petless -- the garden plants are unmolested. As much as Olga loved the garden, she did inflict some damage, wandering through the borders and creating a shady bed beneath the peonies. Not a reason to avoid getting another dog, though I'm still leaning toward waiting until after we return from our summer holidays.

before                                                                                                        after

I could definitely get used to this retirement thing! Just about the most urgent activity I performed yesterday was giving Totoro his semi-annual bath (above).

I also puttered around the house -- thereby proving that puttering can indeed be done indoors as well as in the garden. I vacuumed, did a load of laundry and finished "The Haves and the Have-Yachts." I've had a Waterstones gift card hanging around for months, I think since Christmas -- I can't even remember who gave it to me. So in the afternoon I walked down to Waterstones and bought Patrick Radden Keefe's new book, "London Falling," which I've heard is very good. The cashier at the bookstore was generous with her praise -- she said it was more about human nature than just a true-crime story. I'm looking forward to reading it. I loved his book about the IRA, "Say Nothing."

Here's some of what's blooming in our garden at the moment -- the aquilegia (above), which has some little insects in the center of the flower...

...the azaleas...

...and the African daisies, which seem to love that sunny spot on the patio.

I was unamused to find mating scarlet lily beetles near our lilies. I can't bring myself to kill them -- they're so pretty and jewel-like -- but they'll gnaw the lilies to nothing if I leave them alone. So I'm not sure what to do. Last night I threw a couple of them over the garden wall -- our neighbor is having her house renovated and she's gone, so she won't care -- but that's the coward's way out and I'm sure they'll return. I really should just be merciless.

Finally, here's the tulip bouquet Dave gave me for retirement. Since I blogged my other flowers I felt I should show these off too. See the foam flower outside the window? It's going gangbusters as well.

This really is the best time of year to retire. I love having these spring days free and open, with so much to enjoy in the garden.

And Then We Came to the End

Well, yesterday was a rather overwhelming blur. Lots and lots of farewells and emotions, hugs and handshakes. I cruised into work in the morning to find my desk plastered with posters like the one above, made by students in the Lower School. And the kids had all been told to stop by my desk and say goodbye, so I had a steady stream of well-wishers telling me how much they were going to miss me.

It does a person's ego good, I'll say that.

My boss made cupcakes! We handed them out to teachers who came to wish me well. (There were many more than just these six.)

And remember that group of high-school boys who drove me crazy for years, gathering in a big mob in the library and horsing around and generally being disruptive? Well, they're graduating this year, and they all came in together to say goodbye, and brought me flowers. I was astonished.

They also gave me two thank-you cards, bearing messages like, "You made the library so much fun!" and "Thanks for putting up with our shenanigans." Which is hilarious, because I've always thought I was a grim-faced Scrooge to them. It just goes to show that what counted for them was their overall experience in the space -- a net positive, despite my periodic reminders to pipe down. "Thank you for always letting us play Brawl Stars and being so nice," another one wrote.

And I got another bunch of flowers from a mom and her two kids who have been among my most faithful library patrons. They're now on my kitchen windowsill (above) while the boys' bouquet is in our entrance hall.

Dave bought me flowers too -- a bunch of tulips -- and then complained that the boys had shown him up by giving me a much more expensive bouquet.

Overall, it was terrific day, and one I'll never forget. I had two celebratory martinis after I got home, and later realized as I was lying in bed that I am no longer a librarian. (Well, to be completely accurate, I was never a librarian because I don't have a library science degree -- I was a library assistant. But now I'm not even that!) You don't realize how much of your identity is wrapped up in your occupation until you've left it behind. What am I now? A photographer still, a journalist (at least here), but no longer a librarian. That change leaves me feeling a bit hollow.

Snapped by my boss on the way out the door!

A Poetic Lament

Well, this is it, finally! My last day of work. It's hard to believe. I've been working since 1983, so 43 years! Even though I've had vacations and I know what it's like to not have to be anywhere on any timetable, I haven't had the luxury of living like that for quite a while. I guess the year I spent not working right after we moved to London was the last time.

My co-workers keep asking me in hushed voices, "How do you feel?" Like they expect me to burst into tears or present them with some dramatic emotional revelation. Honestly, though, I feel fine. I have no qualms about this at all. I am absolutely ready and I'm sure it's the right decision -- which is exactly what I tell them: "I feel great!"

Meanwhile, for one final day, I'll focus on my job and getting everything done that needs to be done to hand it off to my successor, who starts Monday. All I can say is, more power to her.

I've photographed that wisteria above many times before, like here and here and here. It's right around the corner from the school and it's impressive enough that lots of people stop to take its picture, as you can see!

And this tree is just a bit further down the street.

Yesterday a 6th-grader came up to my desk and asked to borrow some scissors. I loaned her mine, and she pulled a small plastic tube out of her pocket and cut the tip off, then handed the scissors back to me. I didn't think anything of it and just put them back in my drawer. A couple of hours later, when I went to use them, they were positively welded shut. I couldn't get them open no matter how hard I pulled. Clearly the student had opened a tube of Super Glue. God only knows what she did with it.

Oh well. If she had to destroy my scissors at least she waited until my second-to-last day of work!

Yesterday I found this little Post-It note on the floor of the Lower School library. I thought it was pretty clever and showed it to a librarian and we had a laugh. "First-World kid problems," I said.

But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed too clever. Would an urban Lower School kid know what an "outboard" was? So I did some Googling, and sure enough, it's from a Shel Silverstein poem. I guess it's still impressive that the student felt motivated to write it down.

The Fire Alarm

On my recent walk through Hammersmith

Every Monday afternoon, when the school day has ended and many kids have gone home but I still have a crowd in the library, the school tests its fire alarm. It's an agonizing process week after week -- a pre-recorded announcement of the test (featuring the voice of someone who hasn't worked at the school for years),  followed by an ear-splitting alarm. I have often wondered about the long-term effects on my hearing, being subjected to that test week after week.

Well, yesterday, after the test, I texted Dave: "Last time I'll ever have to do THAT!"

I'm having a lot of those moments. It's a nice feeling.

I've also had several more kids drop by my desk to wish me well, and a co-worker brought me a package of shortbread cookies that she picked up in Norwich over break, so little I'm getting little pre-retirement boosts here and there. I still can't quite believe I have only two days of work left.

Dave and I had the dog conversation again last night. Part of me wants to start looking for a new one to adopt, but we have a two-week trip coming up in July, so we're thinking it might be better to wait until that's past. The problem is, there will always be something like that on the horizon, won't there? I don't want to delay indefinitely, waiting for the perfect moment that never comes, and I know the minute I open up a dog-adoption website I'm going to want to re-home all of them. At least we're thinking and talking about it.

The mysterious floral arch is back at McD's on Finchley Road. I guess it's just a marketing thing -- not in celebration of any particular occasion or event. You know, I haven't eaten at a McDonald's in years. The last time I can think of was in 2014 in Abu Dhabi, on our way to the Seychelles. Every once in a while when I'm away for dinner, Dave will order a McDonald's delivery to the flat. I used to love going there as a kid -- I specifically remember going in 1977 with my mom and brother and sitting outside on the patio, and then going to see "Star Wars" in the nearby cinema. And as I've mentioned, I worked there in high school. But it just doesn't appeal to me now.