Monday, September 28, 2020

Underexposed


It's beginning to look autumnal on the Heath, with a few slightly yellowing trees and some tired-looking thickets of ferns. I love the color of these acorns.

It was feeling autumnal yesterday, too, with a chilly wind and gray skies. Olga had a great time going after squirrels and generally made a spectacle of herself:


I had the camera set wrong when I took this photo. It was a careless photographer mistake -- forgetting to change the settings from a previous picture. Here's what I originally wound up with:


Isn't it amazing that Lightroom could pull so much detail out of that underexposed image?

Other than that, I don't have much to report. I filled out my Florida election ballot, which I will mail today. I did some light trimming and deadheading in the garden. I harvested a few more vegetables:


I'm thinking this may be pretty much it. The bean vine and the pepper plants are looking pretty decrepit. I watered them yesterday, but I was thinking at the time, "What's the point?" It's not like they're going to produce another crop.

Dave and I have been watching a show on Netflix called "Borgen," which is basically a Danish version of "The West Wing." As unlikely as it sounds, it's not bad. It's a bit slower than "The West Wing" and of course there are subtitles, but Dave loves political dramas so we've latched onto it. (As if we can stand any more political drama!)

Sunday, September 27, 2020

Historic Graves at Hampstead Cemetery


Wikimedia, which hosts Wikipedia and an online database of copyright-free media files, is running a competition this month in which it asks photographers to take pictures of historic monuments. I contributed a couple of photos a few weeks ago, and realized that many of the monuments in my area that had not yet been photographed are in Hampstead Cemetery.

So yesterday, on my daily outing with Olga, I brought the camera and filled some gaps in Wikimedia's monuments database. It was interesting to see which graves and headstones are considered most historically significant; I learned a lot about the cemetery and who's buried there.

Above, for example, is the rather nondescript tomb of Dr. Joseph Lister, who developed techniques to prevent infection during medical procedures and is often considered the father of modern surgery. (Listerine was named after him.) Someone left a few chestnuts on his grave, to show they'd visited; Olga thought they might be treats.

I bet I've walked past Lister's grave a hundred times but I had no idea that's who was buried there.


This one, the grave of Parliament member William Randal Cremer, is buried in foliage and in an area where you wouldn't see it unless you went looking. Cremer was a pacifist who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1903 for his advocacy of international arbitration. (Apparently others weren't listening, as World War I broke out not too many years after his death in 1908.)


This, on the other hand, is a very conspicuous monument, probably the cemetery's largest. It was erected by an Italian chef to his wife, Martha Bianchi, who died in childbirth in 1936. On either side of the dark central doorway -- which simply leads to the back of the monument but surely must represent a passage to the beyond -- are relief panels showing the couple with their baby, on the left, and Martha Bianchi being escorted to heaven by angels, on the right.

As if the images above aren't sad enough, the Bianchi family endured further traumas in World War II. The whole harrowing story is here. In the end Cesare Bianchi wasn't even buried with his wife in their monumental plot.

I've photographed this monument before but I never knew the story behind it.


This is the monument of Ardath de Sales Stean, an American dancer who died in 1928 while crossing the Atlantic to England on the White Star liner Homeric. Newspaper accounts at the time said she died after an "operation," so whatever happened onboard the ship must have been sudden and unexpected. More here.


This is probably my favorite grave in Hampstead Cemetery. It's the tomb of Arthur Frankau and his wife Julia. The Frankaus were prosperous dry goods merchants who eventually got involved in marketing tobacco products, and Julia was a novelist who wrote under the pen name Frank Danby. Their son Gilbert also became a novelist, as did their granddaughter Pamela. I love the black granite, the mosaic sun and star, and the clean lines and railings.


Joseph Maas was apparently a renowned opera singer. A tenor, he died in 1886 at the age of 38, after he caught a cold that developed into rheumatic fever.


Here's the Egyptian-style tomb of James Wilson, known as Wilson Pasha, a British engineer who spent more than 40 years working for the Egyptian government.


And finally, there's the beautiful terra cotta Celtic cross grave marker of Joan Moggridge, who was eight years old when she died in 1904. The listing notes nothing about Moggridge or her family; only that the memorial is "a fine example of its type."

These are not all the historically listed graves in the cemetery; there were several more. They made for a very interesting walk!

Saturday, September 26, 2020

Dog Steps and Voting


I found these weathered cherubs on the side of the Hampstead Parish Church when Olga and I were walking back from the Heath last weekend. I keep meaning to take a look inside that church, and yet I've walked past it a hundred times and haven't done so. (Granted, I usually have the dog with me.) One of these days.

Some of you marveled in comments yesterday that even though I'd overslept and had 45 minutes to get out the door, I was writing a blog post. Let me tell you -- I can get ready for work fast. Not having hair is a huge plus. I can even skip showering if need be -- wash my face, get dressed and I'm ready to roll. I just sit behind a desk, so it's not like I get very dirty. On a normal morning I also have cereal and walk the dog, but if I'm rushed I can take the cereal with me (there's milk at work) and the dog can manage with a quick wander around the garden.

The contractor who damaged our bedroom wall came back yesterday to fix it. He apparently told Dave he knew about the damage when it occurred but "didn't want to come into our bedroom" without our permission. Dave found this unlikely, but at any rate it's fixed now.

Oh, and the big news is....I got my ballot! Woo hoo! So I'll be voting this weekend and mailing it out promptly on Monday. Of course, because it's Florida, there are six constitutional amendments as well as a raft of candidates to choose from -- including an amendment to make it harder to amend the state constitution! I need to look into those just a little bit more.

We got so chilly last night that we turned on the heat for the first time this season. We gave ourselves a blast for an hour or so, and did the same this morning. It felt nice and cozy, given that the weather was gray and rainy and very autumnal.



Remember the dog steps I found on the street several months ago? Well, I just want you to see that Olga does use them. They're a little small for her -- made ideally, I suppose, for a smaller dog -- and it took her a while to warm up to them. But now she seems to like them, at least more than having to jump up on the bed.

Friday, September 25, 2020

I'm Amazing!


Our canna lily has bloomed! I thought we might not see any flowers this year. Dave sent me a photo while I was at work, and I was so eager to get home and see it for myself. (This is not the tiny, bedraggled canna, but the other one.  The tiny one is still tiny, but less bedraggled now that I've moved it to a place where the pigeons don't peck at it.)

I managed to oversleep this morning, so I have 45 minutes to pull myself together and get out the door. I guess Olga won't be getting a walk this morning! That's OK -- Dave is staying home today for school-related planning meetings on Zoom, so he can take her out and keep her company. And of course her walker is coming around lunchtime.

Speaking of which, I have to relate the sad news that Francisco will no longer be Olga's regular walker. I'm not sure what happened, but he has apparently left the employ of the dog-walking business that we use. He and I texted a bit last night and he expressed sadness at not seeing Olga again, but he said he's still available for weekend walks and for boarding, so maybe we'll call him when we need that. (Fortunately, the guy who's taking over Olga's route was her walker for ages before the coronavirus crisis came along -- so at least she knows him.)

We had more rain yesterday, and still more is expected this morning. It's 47º F out there! Brrrr...


I found this note in a library book yesterday. Do you think a student wrote it to themselves, or was it a reminder from a parent or teacher? I wonder what the goal was -- maybe just to be amazing.

Thursday, September 24, 2020

Just Some Garden Pics


We did indeed have more rain yesterday evening, which came as a welcome gift to the garden -- appreciating it in the photo above are the pink geranium, orange Peruvian lilies and purple asters. And there's more coming down now. It makes me want to breathe a sigh of relief.

An appreciation for rain is hard-wired into our animal being; we know it brings life and sustenance.


The purple heart plant is indoors, so it's not benefitting from the rain, but nonetheless it is blooming.


Here's another picture of our lone hollyhock -- because you can never have too many!


This is a type of salvia called "hot lips." It's been blooming for months now. It always makes me think of Hot Lips Houlihan.


And finally, the foxglove seeds have sprouted! That didn't take long, did it? They're tiny little things, even as plants, and clearly I'm going to have to do some thinning and repositioning as they grow.

It's nice to be able to turn to nature and appreciate the eternal rhythms of life during these crazy and stressful times.

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

Rain! (After a Whole Lot of Sun)


I woke up to the sound of rain this morning, which was such a relief. It's been bone dry here, and as Dave and I walked around our wilted garden yesterday evening with a watering hose, we lamented the lack of rain. I'm so glad we finally got some. I think the next few days may bring a little more.

Speaking of the lack of rain, I came across this on my walk home from work yesterday:


That is the same species as the once-viney tree -- this one growing on a different street. Look how green it is! Much healthier looking than ours. That seems to suggest the yellowing of our tree's leaves isn't due to autumn.

(Dave is so sick of hearing me talk about this tree. Yesterday he said, "I'm going to go cut it down!")

You may have heard that London had another anti-mask rally over the weekend. I just do not understand this perfect storm of anti-vaxxers, people who are anti-government, people who see child trafficking around every corner, Q-Anon supporters and others who show up at these events. Even Van Morrison is singing anti-mask songs! (Quite a slump from the brilliance of Astral Weeks.)

Wearing a mask seems like such an innocuous thing. They're not always very comfortable, and I think they do bother my sinuses, but in the grand scheme of things it's no big deal. It seems like a strange battle to fight, and why some people associate them with governmental tyranny or oppression is a mystery to me. Van Morrison is at a vulnerable age, but of course he can probably insulate himself with his wealth.

Finally, the New York Times had a fascinating story by a man whose mother, unbeknownst to him, was an accomplished lighting designer. His discovery of one of her lamps in the family attic led him to realize she did much more professionally than he ever knew. I've been meaning to link to it for days but I'm finally just remembering!

(Top photo: Hampstead, on Sunday.)

Tuesday, September 22, 2020

A Hollyhock and Some Rags


I woke up this morning with "Playground in My Mind" running through my head. "My name is Michael, I got a nickel, I got a nickel shiny and new..." Where this came from, I have no idea. It was a popular song when I was in elementary school, but I haven't heard it in many years, and haven't necessarily been missing it, either. It's as if my sleeping brain sent a jolt of neural electricity through whatever cells store that memory, and when I woke up, there it was. I was humming it as I made coffee, which is the very first thing I do once I'm vertical.

I'll probably be singing it all day. Lord.

I got a surprise yesterday when I went out into the garden and found a hollyhock in bloom (above)! I've been grousing about our hollyhocks all year, how they didn't flower and don't really grow, and then this late bloomer saved the day. As you can see, the plant is only about eight inches tall -- but I still feel a sense of triumph.


I also found a few last blackberries. I picked them and put them on my cereal. They weren't that good. They start tasting a bit, I don't know, flat as the weather turns colder.


Can you see that hole in my shorts, on my hip below my left pocket? I have holes like this in several of my shorts and pants, because that's where my camera bag rubs against me as I walk. I generally ignore them and wear the clothes anyway, but yesterday I realized these shorts also had a hole in the back! I think it just appeared within the last day or two, maybe as I walked Olga on the Heath, and as I wore them yesterday evening it gradually turned from the size of a quarter to the size of a dessert plate. It was quite funny by the time I took the shorts off and threw them away before going to bed. (I saved the buttons, because I'm thrifty that way.)

I bought those shorts in Florida, I think on the outlet mall shopping trip I mentioned here.

I do have a tendency to keep my clothes too long. Every time I go to throw something out, I think, "Well, I could wear it just one more time." And then it gets mixed up in the laundry and I wash it, and once I've washed it I think, "Well, it would be a shame to throw it away now that it's clean. I can wear it just one more time." And pretty soon it's five years later.

Remember that post I did years ago about some of my favorite clothes that were on their last legs? Well, I still have them all, and I still wear them all.