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.

Starlings Ravage the Lavender

Well, the big development yesterday was Viktor Orban losing in Hungary. That's great news and hopefully a sign that the world is turning away from nationalism and authoritarianism. The Hungarian voters turned out in record numbers and chose a closer alliance with the EU over strengthening bonds with Putin's Russia and Trump's USA. All I can say is, amen to that. Trump, you're next!

I'm giving you just a few pictures today, because otherwise I'll have to write a whole post about reading on the couch and I'm not sure that's possible!

Our miniature purple orchid is blooming again (above). I took that picture right after giving it one of its periodic showers.

This squirrel was doing some acrobatics to reach the suet balls in our bird feeder. Doesn't that starling look annoyed? This feeder is a replacement for the one we had previously, which was falling apart. It's narrower and I've noticed that the birds tend to fight each other off when they're eating from it. You'd often see two birds at a time perched on the old one, one on either side, but this one is a single-bird model. (And single squirrel!) It also doesn't have an external cage, which wasn't completely effective at keeping squirrels at bay, but it helped. Maybe I need to find another feeder.

Our pink-flowering cactus is blooming again -- only the second year it's given us flowers. Weirdly, I don't see any blossoms at all on the yellow one. It appears healthy but I guess it's taking the year off.

Yesterday afternoon a couple of starlings were ravaging our lavender plant by the back door. They were pulling new leaves and sprouts off the plant and flying off with them. I assume they're using them to line a nest. Maybe they like the aroma? I'm sure the plant can handle it but I still wanted to tell them to take it easy!

Fabergé

Does your town have these rental bikes? They seem like a good idea until you see a conglomeration like this. I took this picture on The Strand in Westminster, but even at the top of the street where we live, there's often a mass of these things parked and awaiting the next rider. (Both bikes and e-scooters.) I've never ridden one myself because I think getting on a bike in this town is like having a death wish, but they are popular. I just wonder if there aren't too many of them, and if there isn't a better way to control or regulate their parking.

I read the craziest story in The Guardian on Friday about a woman who had her £1,600 Givenchy bag stolen from a pub in Soho. That would be bad enough, but inside the bag were an Apple laptop, Apple AirPods, a £350 store voucher, £200 worth of makeup, £20 in cash and -- get this -- a £2.2 million emerald-encrusted Fabergé egg and watch set. Now, I don't mean to blame the victim, but what on earth would possess someone carrying a Fabergé egg to stop at a pub? If I had a Fabergé egg in my Givenchy bag (unlikely) I'd be headed straight to wherever I kept my safe, and I'd be on red alert every step of the way. The thief was caught after grabbing the bag while its owner was smoking, and then trying to use her bank card nearby. He went to jail, but the egg has not been found.

(Every time I hear Fabergé I think of Eddie Murphy's skit about buying his father Christmas presents: "Brut -- by Fabergé." Somehow, through the mysteries of capitalism, the jewelry and the cologne are linked, after cosmetics companies acquired the Fabergé brand name in the 20th century. There's still Fabergé jewelry too, so don't ask me to explain who owns what.)

Anyway, nothing that exciting has been going on around here, thank goodness. I had another quiet day yesterday, spent mostly reading. I also cleaned the outside of our kitchen cabinets, which is one of those infrequent but necessary household jobs. At some point I need to do our windows but I think I'll save that for next week, when I am retired!

My renewed US passport arrived in yesterday's mail, so that's something I don't have to think about anymore.

This is our last official day of Spring Break. The week has flown by. I have three more work days and then, after this coming Wednesday, I'm done. As the day creeps closer I'm a bit more apprehensive about how I'm going to spend my time and what it's going to be like, talking to no one all day. I might love it, because I'm kind of a solitary person anyway -- "odd and peculiar," as my mother used to describe us all -- or will I miss human contact? Time will tell!

Jump!

I woke up this morning with the Pointer Sisters' song "Jump" running through my head. Why this happened, I can't imagine. I've never owned the record, or any other Pointer Sisters records. I've never even liked the song. So what on earth, out of all the billions of songs in my brain, made my internal jukebox choose that one to begin the day?

We seem to be going through a bit of a cold snap all of a sudden. Nighttime temperatures on Monday and Tuesday are forecast to drop to 40º F (or 4.4º C). I'm hoping I didn't pot up all those dahlias a little too early. Apparently they hate being cold and wet, and we have a 50 percent chance of rain today and tomorrow.

Speaking of which, the freaking squirrels got into the dahlia pots yesterday and excavated several of them. They didn't dig up the bulbs but they sure made a mess. I had to redistribute the dirt and put some pottery shards and metal screening on top to keep them out. I do this every year. I don't know why I'm surprised.

I brought the Rhipsalis cactus back inside, after those little furry gray monsters reminded me how destructive they can be. No need to tempt fate there.

Having said that, the garden is still looking springlike. Our African daisies (Osteospermum) are blooming like crazy (top), as are...

...the forget-me-nots...

...the bluebells...

...and the camassia lilies. I just read on Wikipedia that camassias are related to asparagus and agaves. Who knew? Who even knew asparagus and agaves were related to each other? Biology is so strange.

Aside from shifting around more plants, I spent most of yesterday reading. I caught up on blogs and read more of my book, "The Haves and the Have-Yachts." I'm on a section that discusses a trend among the superrich to have pop stars come and perform at birthday parties and bar mitzvahs. Can you imagine? Apparently, for five million dollars, you can have the Rolling Stones come to your spacious back garden (or the appropriate venue of your choice) and sing to your spouse or mother-in-law. Rock and pop stars don't mind because they make a ton of money for a short, low-pressure gig, and the billionaires are willing to pay because what else are they going to do with their money?

You could not, however, have the original Pointer Sisters come and perform "Jump" for you, because only one of them is still alive. And she's 80, so she may not be jumping much anymore.

*Addendum: Actually, if she's like the woman in this article, she might be!