Tuesday, November 13, 2018
The weekend's wind and rain ripped many of the red leaves off our Japanese maple and scattered them at its feet. We haven't had long to appreciate that bright color.
It's probably cliché to evoke Robert Frost at this time of year, but here goes:
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
And while red leaves are carpeting our lawn, indoors we've started our Great Carpet Odyssey. Last night Dave and I cleared all the furniture out of the dining room, cramming it mostly into the front foyer and our bedroom. Books are lining the walls of the hallway. Everything is stacked everywhere. As I told Dave, it's like those scenes in "Dr. Zhivago" when Tonya and her family have been forced into just a few rooms of their mansion because the Bolsheviks have taken over the rest of the house.
This is in preparation for the handyman to come this morning and rip out the old dining room carpet and carry it away. Then, tomorrow, the new carpet gets installed -- insha'allah, as they say in the Muslim world. (It literally means "God willing," but in this case, it really means "assuming the carpet gets delivered and the workmen show up.")
Monday, November 12, 2018
Yesterday was bright and sunny, an autumnal jewel of a day. Olga and I took a longish walk in the morning, and she patiently paused for me while I took photographic advantage of the shadows.
Then Dave and I were off to the Royal Free Hospital, where he had an examination scheduled. It's interesting that they chose yesterday, which was not only a Sunday but also Remembrance Day. The NHS works all the time, I suppose. We sat in the waiting room and watched the Remembrance Day ceremonies at the Cenotaph in Whitehall, with Theresa May and the other government and Commonwealth leaders laying their wreaths of poppies.
(By the way, this is an excellent gallery of photos from yesterday's ceremonies around the world. I find that image of poppies projected onto the Sydney Opera House especially beautiful and powerful. I'm glad Macron made a point of rejecting nationalism right in front of petulant Trump and conniving Putin.)
After Dave's name was called and he disappeared into the exam room, I walked to Starbucks and sat out on the sidewalk reading Derek Jarman's "Modern Nature," his journals from the late 1980s when he lived in Dungeness and tended a garden in the windy, salty environment. It's interesting reading, but it's also slow-going, I think because journals -- like collections of letters -- don't have the narrative drive of a novel. I've been reading this book for a couple of weeks and I'm only about a third of the way through. I like it, though -- his recollections of the Soho gay scene in the '60s and '70s, his references to his film and design work and the friends he loved and lost to AIDS, his descriptions of various plants and his efforts to grow them. He died from AIDS not too many years after the book's essays conclude.
Finally I went back to the hospital, collected Dave, and we came home. His exam went fine, and they seem to have some idea why he hasn't been feeling so great lately. This may lead to some treatment changes for his Crohn's -- he has a follow-up appointment in a week or two, so we'll see.
Sunday, November 11, 2018
Well, yesterday wasn't quite as chaotic as I thought it might be -- the roofers didn't show up. I guess they don't work on Saturdays.
But the the moth guy did show up, around 11:30, at which point Dave, Olga and I were banished from the house for three hours. The exterminator, Greg, who had an Eastern European accent and who seemed as unconvinced as us that a treatment was even necessary, said he would be spraying by hand. I'd envisioned more of a "room fogger" approach, but apparently not. We just had to be gone until it dried.
So Dave went to a cafe on the high street to do some schoolwork, and Olga and I went to the Heath, which was beautifully autumnal. We even had sunshine, because yesterday's rain didn't materialize until the afternoon.
As usual, Olga was a squirrel-killing machine. (At least in her own mind.) She makes passers-by laugh, she is so maniacal. At one point she was leaping around the base of a tree, barking, and a guy walking past said, "Bark it down! It will fall from fear!"
After our long walk we got home to find the flat pretty much the same. I only saw one area where spraying was obvious, and there was no smell at all. I stayed out of the dining room, where the carpet is being replaced this week and where these erstwhile moths (and hence the spray) are supposedly concentrated.
My ever-considerate spouse bought me a bottle of wine at OddBins, even though he hasn't been drinking anything himself because of his Crohn's. So I was able to have a few glasses last night as we watched TV -- a Netflix show called "Safe," with Michael C. Hall, which is pretty good! We binged three episodes!
Saturday, November 10, 2018
I found this beautiful feather on the sidewalk last week. It's tiny -- maybe an inch long -- and I suspect it's from a tit but I'm not sure. The coloring is right, and tits are tiny birds.
And here are the most recent downloads from the garden cam. You'll notice that the time/date stamp on the first clip is wrong, but then I fixed it, so the rest should read correctly. Foxes, squirrels and Olga, basically.
We have a whole lot going on around here today, but fortunately none of it requires my attendance. So while the fumigators visit for the first moth treatment and the roofers pound away, Olga and I will be at the Heath. Or somewhere. It's going to be a bit dicey because it's supposed to rain, but I'm hoping we can fit our long walk in between bouts of precipitation.
Friday, November 9, 2018
Here's what our humble abode looks like at the moment, all scaffolded up for roof repairs. As I said in an earlier post, Dave and I haven't been involved in arranging any of this work. It's been handled by our landlord and the owner of the upstairs flat. It's basically just happening to us.
We live on the ground floor, with the green door. The white door leads to the upstairs, where the Russians live. Mrs. Kravitz lives in the house on the left. I don't even know the name of the woman who owns the house on the right -- the one connected to ours -- but I believe she has the whole structure. It's not divided into separate flats like ours is.
Here's another view, so you can see how extensive the scaffold is. It runs down the side of the house and also around the back. It went up pretty quickly -- I was impressed, considering the workmen had to navigate our jungle of a front garden. (We don't maintain the front -- that's the landlord's responsibility, probably in conjunction with the Russians.)
That big hole in the roadway, with the blue barriers, is a separate project entirely -- something to do with Thames Water. I have no idea what's happening there.
Once again, I read a fascinating article in The New Yorker yesterday, this one about a team of New York lawyers who moved to Oklahoma to represent poor women entangled in the criminal justice system. Apparently Oklahoma incarcerates women, particularly poor women, at above-average rates. The article mentioned the case of Tondalao Hall, a woman whose abusive male partner broke their infant son's leg and ribs. The man was sentenced to eight years of probation for inflicting the abuse. But Hall, who wasn't even home when the child was injured and who called a doctor when she saw that something was wrong, was charged with failing to protect her children -- and sentenced to THIRTY YEARS IN PRISON! Have you ever heard of a greater miscarriage of justice? The ACLU is fighting her case, but really -- it's perhaps the starkest example I've ever seen of a woman being made to pay for the crimes of a man. Appalling!
Thursday, November 8, 2018
The consensus seems to be that the election news is brighter than I initially believed yesterday. I thought it was sort of a "meh" result for the Democrats, but The New York Times called it a "rebuke" of Trump's policies -- maybe even a "stinging rebuke," though I can't remember their exact wording. Nate Cohn has a column (with a very hard-to-understand graphic) explaining why the election was better for the Democrats than it appears. I'm not sure I buy it, frankly -- I'd hoped for a much bigger and bluer wave -- but it's an interesting perspective.
At least Nancy Pelosi is now back to annoy the Republicans even more. This thrills me to my bones, knowing how much they complain about her.
Trump's behavior is going to be fun to watch. Now that he doesn't have to tiptoe around to pacify mid-term election voters, he's going to become even more autocratic. Jeff Sessions is just the first step.
Look how red our Japanese maple has gone, seemingly overnight! Less than two weeks ago it was a dark bronze color. It really stands out at this time of year. Apparently it's a hemispheric phenomenon, as Lorianne in New England said hers just went bright red, too.
I went back to Starbuck's yesterday and collected my free coffee via my health insurance. This time, they had hot water. Yay!
Oh, and I rolled our carts of discarded library DVDs into the staff lounge at work, with "free" signs on them. I figured that would help us get rid of them, and it has -- several shelves' worth have disappeared. Less for us to throw away!
(Top photo: An autumn leaf in Queen's Park, on Sunday.)
Wednesday, November 7, 2018
I woke up at 4 a.m. to read the American election results. Nationwide, they're not a total disaster. It's great that the Democrats won control of the House, as expected, and there were a few bright spots -- like the defeat of the far-right gubernatorial candidate in Kansas, of all places. Even in Florida, where I voted, it's terrific that a long-standing discriminatory law banning ex-felons from voting has been eliminated. That will have a significant effect in upcoming years and is another step toward true justice.
Of course I was sick to see the Democrats lose the governor's race and a Senate seat in Florida -- but frankly, I kind of expected it. I was just telling a co-worker yesterday that I thought those losses were likely. It's still Florida, y'all -- the "Gunshine State." I'm so used to voting on the losing end of statewide elections that I don't bat an eye anymore.
To the extent that it's all a referendum on Trump, the fact of the matter is, while he turns my stomach and those of a lot of urban, educated voters, many, many people do not care what he says or how he says it. If anything, they like his plain-spokenness and his bluster. They find him entertaining and they don't feel preached to or looked down upon. There are many ironies there, but that's how it is. The economy is up and he's pledged resistance to immigration, and many people respond to those issues. I just have to swallow the fact that I think differently.
So, onward. I hope having a Democratic House at least imposes some checks and balances.
I went back to the dentist yesterday evening to get my crown adjusted again. The good news is, it seems to have really helped. My tooth feels much better than it did. We'll see what happens over the long haul, but I am hopeful.
Oh, and Dave -- who stayed home from work yesterday morning for a doctor's appointment -- texted me to say the scaffold was going up around our house, enabling the roof work to proceed. He sent me this picture:
I was like, "Ummmm....is that really a picture of the scaffolding?"
Dave swears he was not photographing Hunky Scaffold Man, and in fact he said the guy's not all that hunky in real life. Whatever!
In all seriousness, I was glad Dave was home, because I worried about how Olga would respond to workmen clambering over the house and clanking around with those huge metal poles. Dave said she didn't like it, but I hope now that she's been introduced to the disruption she'll be comfortable here on her own.
(Top photo: A chicken place in Queen's Park, on Sunday. I'm always intrigued when I see 'Southern' fried chicken advertised in England. Is it from Southampton?)
Tuesday, November 6, 2018
I just woke up from the strangest dream, in which I had cartoon characters tattooed on the calves of both my legs. Beavis and Butthead were on my outer left leg. I don't remember who the others were. Dave was somehow responsible for this, and in the dream I wasn't upset at all, though in real life it would certainly be a different story.
The roofers haven't yet erected their scaffold to begin the roof repairs on our house. We were told it would happen yesterday, but for whatever reason it didn't. I am so happy that I don't have to manage this project at all. We just come and go as usual and at some point we'll come home and there will be a scaffold.
I mailed the wayward birthday card yesterday -- the one that arrived at our house last week by mistake. The sender did respond to my Facebook message, and he seemed rather cautious, but when I explained how I tracked him down (first name on the card, last name on the accompanying check, and an unusual name overall) he was satisfied and he told me where to send it. It's another street very near ours with a completely different name, but the same house number. It makes me wonder how on earth they screwed this up -- did they look at a map and guess at the street? Very weird.
Even weirder, when I left the post office, I went to Starbucks to try to redeem my free coffee from my health insurance, and the barista said they had no hot water. How was this possible?! Something about a machine being broken, but they couldn't do an Americano (which is made with the espresso machine) or a filter coffee (which is made with a drip coffee maker). So it sounds like two machines were broken. Maybe I'll try again today if I get motivated.
Here are the chrysanthemums I carried home from Queen's Park on Sunday, along with some cyclamens I got at Homebase a few weeks ago. Aren't those nice-looking mums for £3.50?
Yesterday at work some fifth-grade boys, both library enthusiasts who have started their own book club (!), found an immense volume of Norman Rockwell paintings in a back corner. One of them discovered from the lack of date stamps that it had never been checked out, and when I showed him another stamp indicating the library got the book in 1975, he couldn't believe it. (I'm sure 1975 seems like prehistory to him.) He borrowed it just to proudly tell his friends: "We're the first people to check it out!" And then he flipped through a few pages and returned it, because I'm sure he wasn't interested in lugging home a 12x17-inch book that must weigh 20 pounds. Kids are funny.
(Top photo: Salusbury Road, Queen's Park, on Sunday.)
Monday, November 5, 2018
For a long time I've been meaning to take Olga to Queen's Park, southwest of where we live, just to try something new. I didn't necessarily have it in mind when we set out on our walk yesterday, but when we found ourselves headed in that direction I decided to make it our goal.
Turns out, Queen's Park -- though perfectly nice as parks go -- isn't a great place for Olga. For one thing, there are a lot of rules. A placard by the gate lists them all. Dogs have to be on a lead, for example. Also, you can't quarrel, use profanity, play cards, or land a helicopter. So don't even think about it.
The dogs-on-leads rule means there are billions of incredibly fat, lazy squirrels lolling around, which of course drove Olga into a frenzy. In her mind's eye, they were spread-eagled on giant Ritz crackers, green olives in their mouths, a tray of hors d'oeuvres. She nearly pulled my arms off trying to get to them, and did her "insane dog" impression, in which she pants and groans and wheezes and slavers and becomes a general embarrassment.
Because of the insane dog, I only took a few pictures in the park, including the one of the bandstand, above. (Oh, and that's another park rule -- you can't "importune any person for the purpose of taking any photograph." I decided to risk importuning the bandstand.)
I asked another dog owner, walking a very properly behaved small furry thing, where I could let Olga run off-leash, and he directed us to nearby Tiverton Green.
That was a much, much better solution. She chased her tennis ball, fended off an incursion by a German Shepherd who wanted to take her ball, and also found an abandoned orange football to play with.
Afterwards we walked the high street through the Queen's Park neighborhood, where I got a coffee and a pastry at Starbucks. I thought I had a free coffee through my health insurance, but when I got to the counter I couldn't find the payment code on my insurance app -- the app recently updated and now nothing looks the same. So rather than annoy everyone by holding up the line, I paid for everything, and of course the moment I sat down I found the payment code with no problem.
(Oh, you can't be annoying in Queen's Park, either. It's expressly forbidden, according to the posted rules, to "behave to the annoyance of any person." That only applies in the park itself, though, not in Starbucks.)
Finally, as we began the long walk home, Olga dragged me into the Queens Park farmer's market, which was being held in a car park beside the high street. She smelled the oysters, I think, but we steered clear of those. I did buy a pot of beautiful chrysanthemums for the porch, and I felt very autumnal carrying them home.
In the afternoon I cleaned up the garden, pruning back the dead inulas, thistles and cardoon and raking up the fallen leaves. And I watched the Marx Brothers in "A Night at the Opera," which I checked out from the library, mainly because I wanted to see Kitty Carlisle in what might be her most famous acting role. Those Marx Brothers movies are still funny, even after 80 years.
Sunday, November 4, 2018
Olga and I went for a long walk on the Heath yesterday. It was chilly but clear and pleasant, and as usual she was insane with squirrel-chasing energy. While she ran and ran, I spent my time photographing peculiar leaves.
We found a couple of pumpkins sitting outside someone's garden gate. I couldn't tell if they were being given away or meant as decoration -- but you'd think if they were decorative, someone would have removed the stickers. Olga was trying to figure them out. I think she thought they were footballs. We left them there.
After our walk, Dave and I went to see "Bohemian Rhapsody," the new movie about Queen and Freddie Mercury. (You may remember I came across Freddie's house in Kensington several years ago.) It's a good movie. I was never a huge Queen fan, but I had their greatest hits album at some point, and I had the single of "Killer Queen" when I was a kid -- someone gave it to me. Anyway, the film is rather obviously Hollywoodized in a few places and the prosthetic teeth that Rami Malek wears seem WAY too big, but aside from that, it gets two thumbs up from us.
A large part of the film's ending focuses on Queen's performance at Live Aid, which occurred in July 1985. You know, I remember all the buzz about that event, but I don't think I watched it at the time. I was in college, had just moved into my first apartment with a roommate, and I guess I was just too busy. I did buy a 12-inch single of "We Are the World," so I did my part!
This morning, Olga is not moving very fast. I think she's still recovering, chasing squirrels in her twitchy dog dreams.
Saturday, November 3, 2018
This mylar balloon is caught in some trees near our house. It's been there for days and days. I'm sure it's a remnant of some child's birthday party and I have to wonder how it will ever come down.
Speaking of birthdays, yesterday was mine. I have officially been on the planet for 52 years. I didn't mention it yesterday because there wasn't much to tell, and there still isn't. I got a postcard from my step-mother, who's traveling in Portugal, and my co-workers gave me a little gathering with a card and a flourless chocolate cake. Oh, and my boss's boss gave me a coaster for drinks, shaped like an old floppy disk. Dave already took me to dinner, so that's that!
I did make myself a rare martini, which was fabulous, and we watched "Clueless," because if you're going to drink a martini and watch a movie you can't watch something that requires any thought.
Oh, and I heard from 90 people on Facebook, which is pretty great. I am terrible about wishing people happy birthday on Facebook, and yet every year when my birthday comes around and I get so many messages, I am touched! It makes me realize how many great people I know and how many paths I've traveled. Say all you want about the evils of Facebook -- and in many cases you wouldn't be wrong -- but it does birthdays well.
Friday, November 2, 2018
Suddenly we've had lots of activity around here.
Most excitingly, I was at work on Tuesday afternoon when I began having sharp chest pains. They felt very internal, slightly to the left of my breastbone and radiating both to my front and my back. They weren't super-intense and didn't have the elephant-sitting-on-your-chest feeling that heart attacks supposedly have, so I didn't do anything immediately. But when I went home I told Dave, and we called the NHS ask-a-nurse line. The nurse ran me through a list of questions and told me I should consult with a doctor within six hours, then contacted my doctor's office and got a doctor on the phone (!). He told me it sounded like "musculo-skeletal" injury and told me to come and see him in the morning.
So, on Wednesday morning, he examined me and said everything seemed fine. (The pain had largely disappeared by then, but it was uncomfortable enough that I couldn't lie on my side in bed the previous night.) He sent me for an ECG and blood work, which I did yesterday morning at the Royal Free Hospital. The ECG still has to be read by a cardiologist but the technician said it looked normal to her.
Good grief! Maybe hoisting all those boxes of discarded DVDs didn't do me any favors?
On top of this, an exterminator is coming on the 10th to give our flat a "moth treatment" because, even though we've seen no evidence of moths in the rugs, the landlord insists on it before she replaces the dining room carpet. It's actually going to be two treatments, two weeks apart, and we have to be out of the flat for five hours or so each time. I hate the idea of poison in the house so I am not amused. I'd rather live with moths -- but we really do need a new carpet.
Finally, we've just learned there's going to be roof work on our building, which will necessitate erecting a scaffold all around the house for a week. That starts on Monday. Hopefully it won't affect us much since we're on the bottom floor, but at minimum it seems like it might make things a bit darker.
Oh, and I'll be back at the dentist on Tuesday to determine why my back molar is still giving me pain, despite a root canal and a crown.
Never a dull moment!
Yesterday we got an envelope in the mail addressed to someone we've never heard of. It was obviously a letter of some sort but it had no return address. I was stymied about what to do, so I opened it, and it turned out to be a birthday card for a 16-year-old nephew with a check inside. I tracked down the sender on Facebook and sent a message letting him know we have it instead of the nephew (who I suppose lived here at some point in the past). I offered to return it or forward it, depending on what he wants. We'll see if he responds. Why don't people put return addresses on their mail?
(Photo: Chiswick House, a couple of weekends ago.)
Thursday, November 1, 2018
This is not our Chinese lantern plant. I wish! No, it belongs to a neighbor, and just like every year, it is bedecked with beautiful orange lantern-like seed pods. Our lantern plant -- our third attempt at growing one, I should add -- seems to have spontaneously died. It was doing well until shortly after we returned from Vietnam, when it turned yellow and withered away. I thought it was dying back for fall until I saw the neighbor's, still lush and be-lanterned. I have no idea why Dave and I are so terrible at growing this particular plant -- especially when it's supposed to be so easy!
We'll see if it comes up in the spring, and if not, we'll get a fourth one. I am GOING to have lanterns, dammit.
An office near Fortune Green closed some time ago and was remodeled into another office. Simultaneously, these office chairs appeared, discarded by the side of the road. Coincidence?
A picture of nothing. I just liked the orangey glow of that streetlight.
The promotional posters on the vacant shop on Finchley Road keep changing. There's a whole world of entertainment going on out there I know nothing about!
Perhaps the world's ugliest loveseat, left on Priory Road for the trash collectors. Beige vinyl and green-stained trim? Hmmmm...
A nearby pub is having a Halloween party tomorrow night with a drag queen! This is surprising only because it just doesn't seem like a drag queen kind of pub. I guess drag culture really has permeated the mainstream -- or, as one of my friends suggested, maybe it's the name of a band.
Cute doodles on the side of a discarded box, set out for the recyclers.
A fall leaf atop a metal manhole cover -- don't you love that colorful stem?
By the way, we had no trick-or-treaters last night. Whew!