The Arch at the Arches

As I was walking on Finchley Road on Thursday morning, I saw these guys installing a big floral arch over the doorway at McDonald's. I guess someone was having some sort of celebration there? I've seen these arches installed over the doorways of homes for weddings and things like that, but I've never seen one at a fast-food restaurant! It was gone by the next day.

Yesterday was all about doing more to prepare for the handoff at work. I went through my entire Google Drive -- 14 years of accumulated work documents -- and moved anything even remotely valuable over to my boss's Google account for safekeeping. I also went through my desk and passed off a couple of things to her that should be preserved -- but of course most work documents are "virtual" these days as opposed to pieces of paper, so there wasn't that much.

I also culled that thick folder of thank-you notes and brought home the ones I decided to keep, along with the originals of all my work photos. Some of you wondered about the group photos in my retirement video -- why they were all so similar from year to year. We took them at school picture time using the school's photographer, and sometimes they were included in yearbooks, but mostly they were just for us. As you can see we tried to have a "theme" each year, somehow related to what was going on in the library or the school. For example, the one in which we all dressed as artists was taken the year our new Arts Building opened.

By the way, we created a second version of the retirement video, including one more group photo I found -- of all of us in masks during the pandemic -- and my boss put a little note on each slide noting that it's for my retirement so that anyone who looks up and sees the show in the middle won't wonder what it's for. Don't feel like you have to watch it. It's otherwise exactly the same as the first one.

I think I might actually start reading a book today. I've made a sufficient enough dent in my New Yorkers that I feel like they're once again at a manageable level, though I'm not by any means caught up. I've been meaning to read "Flashlight" by Susan Choi so I think I'll give that a go.

A Light No Longer Lit

Here's one of our orchids, giving us another round of blossoms. Although this one is doing well and at least two others have flower stalks, I have a few orchids that are looking pretty pathetic. Many are getting on in years and I find that they get a lot less vigorous over time, failing to grow new leaves, not to mention flowers, despite regular and careful watering and feeding. I'm thinking about doing an orchid cull. We have 11 of them, so we're hardly lacking, and I could let three or four go.

But that is not a problem I need to think about today.

Here's my retirement slideshow, the one we made to play in the library. It's made to run on a loop, and it has no sound. It mostly shows me with my co-workers over the years, and it has a few other little odds and ends thrown in. Hopefully no one will mind me posting it here. (It's not public on YouTube.) My boss said the flowery background reminds her of the shirts I wear, which I can definitely see, and it sorts of alludes to my gardening too.

When I came in yesterday morning it was stuck on the first slide, and I couldn't figure out how to get it to auto-play. So I asked my friend Colin for help. "You're setting up your own retirement slideshow? That's pretty pathetic!" he said. I laughed and told him my boss had made it, though I provided the photos. So it's not that pathetic. I just want it to display properly! We got it going eventually.

So, yes, the word is finally out. I'm glad it's not a secret anymore.

I liked the statistic that my boss provided -- that we've checked out nearly half a million books from August 2013 (when I started in the library) to now. I didn't process all of those checkouts, of course, because I'm not working first thing in the morning and I take an hour for lunch each day, but I probably did most of them. And then had to get them all back and re-shelve them!

If I'd thought about it I'd have included something about reading all the Newbery Medal winners, because that's undoubtedly one of my biggest library achievements -- that and talking up the award with the school community. But oh well.

Oh, and remember the light relentlessly burning in the apartment window opposite? I texted the caretaker of the apartments yesterday and told him about it, and he said he'd mention it to the cleaner (?), and when I checked last night it was off. Problem solved, at least for the time being! Dave laughs when I do things like that. "Your retirement is going to be very entertaining," he says.

Getting the Word Out

The sign-maker, whose apartment I pass on my walk to work and who was once fond of hanging elaborate signs in his/her window criticizing Boris Johnson and other Tory leaders, has now taken to sending messages to our Labour politicians. Perhaps this is a sign of how unhappy everyone is with Labour, even the center-leftists. I don't think Keir Starmer is so bad, honestly, but to hear the media talk he's a disaster. Early on he did make some strange choices and decisions that seemed to me very un-Labour-like, but I think he's been better recently. I'm not sure how the next round of elections will go for him, though.

Speaking of which, we got a flyer in the mail yesterday reminding us to vote in early May. Our first opportunity to vote in England since we became citizens! I don't even know where to go or what to do, though I assume that will become obvious as we get closer to the time. I don't think they're national elections -- just local councillors -- but still, I'm excited to participate for once.

I spoke with my boss yesterday about our need to tell kids about my imminent departure. As I told her, I don't want to just disappear and have everyone assume I'd been fired, or worse, hit by a bus. She agreed and we concocted a plan to put up a slideshow in the library wishing me a happy retirement, with photos taken over my 14-year career at the school. I helped her put it together and I think we'll start showing it soon, so the cat will be out of the bag.

I did tell my pal, the eighth-grader who often quizzes me about cameras and wanted me to shoot film for him to develop, and I was surprised by how strongly he reacted. He literally put his hands up to his face in a "Home Alone" gesture and said, "NO! WHY?!" His skin flushed red and I was afraid he would burst into tears, but fortunately he didn't. I told him I'd still see him since Dave still works at the school and I'll be attending events now and then. It made me feel terrible that I blurted it out so casually but I didn't expect that degree of reaction!

I'm actually beginning to feel a little dread about my departure. Excitement, but also a sense of what-the-heck-am-I-doing?! How will I keep myself occupied? I hope I don't regret this.

I met up yesterday after work with a blog reader, Joni, who happens to be traveling through Britain and France. She e-mailed me out of the blue several weeks ago and mentioned she'd be passing through and did I want to connect? So we had a pint together at a pub near the school in St. John's Wood. I think it may be the first time I've ever met up with anyone from blogland who didn't also write their own blog. She told me about her trip and we chatted about our shared affinity for dogs and some of our common experiences with people in the blogosphere. Today she's headed back home to Canada. Safe travels, Joni! (No, her last name is not Mitchell.)

Neighbors

On Saturday I saw this big bumblebee burrowing into one of our camellias. If a bee can look happy, this one did, and it wouldn't turn around or pull its head out of that flower for love or money, as the expression goes. You can see why these particular camellias are not my favorite flower -- they're already browning, and that's a brand-new blossom. But the bee doesn't care.

I just spoke to my upstairs neighbor. I heard him coming down the stairs and stopped him on the porch just to say hello. I wasn't sure anyone was living there but apparently he's still around, though his family is back in Israel. Given the choice, I believe I'd want them here rather than there at the moment, but I didn't press for details. At least I know the apartment isn't vacant.

I haven't called the council for a new rubbish bin, as I'd planned. I realized we have two, and for the time being, I just stashed the broken one at the back of the bin row, and we'll use the good one. If it's just me, Dave and one person upstairs, we ought to make do with one bin just fine.

I got up at 2:30 a.m. and saw that mysterious light burning brightly in the building opposite, shining its glare into our garden. I still think that's a vacant apartment. That light is on all the time.

And that's about all the news (?) I can come up with this morning. Otherwise I'm just walking to work and walking home, listening to my podcasts and trying to catch up on my New Yorkers. More of the same.

Notes and Cards

I found this sticker on my walk to work yesterday -- an unusual one, in that it's stuck directly to the sidewalk and it features the cats' paws and tail. Perhaps the cat artist is trying to do some new things?

I got my glasses repaired over the weekend and picked them up yesterday. When I was in Florida I damaged them pretty severely. One of the arms got jammed closed and I couldn't open it without basically forcing it, which I had to do in order to wear them. So I screwed up the joint, bent it somehow, and first aid was needed. Now they're back on my face, and at no charge! I'm not thrilled with these frames, which Dave bought ten years ago but then never wore himself, so in 2022 I had them fitted with my prescription. They're some kind of fancy German engineering and a little too complicated for their own good.

I polished off a couple more New Yorkers last night while Dave was at the doctor, getting some advice for his Crohn's. He's trying to take his treatment private, in the hopes that he can consistently see the same doctor over time and get some more attentive case management. We'll see how that goes. The doctor he saw last night is referring him to a different doctor and meanwhile has ordered tests.

Yesterday at work I looked through a huge file folder I've kept over the years filled with thank-you notes from students, birthday and holiday cards from co-workers, and other stuff. I have no idea what I'm going to do with it all. There's too much to keep, so I guess I need to do some culling. It's nice to be reminded that I've made a difference in students' lives, enough so that they felt a need to write to me. I always feel like such a crank at work, nagging kids not to eat in the library and to bring back overdue books, so I'm glad to see that they don't just associate me with scolding.

Here's the latest from the wildlife cam in the garden -- back in London and once again collecting footage of foxes, pigeons, cats, magpies and squirrels. The best moment comes at 1:41, when a fox comes right in for a quick sniff of the camera. Normally they're very wary of it. At 2:45 I move it to get a better angle, and at 3:02 I put down some fish skin left over from dinner, which a fox eagerly eats a few hours later. At about 5:23 a fox trots in with a bone or dog treat in its mouth, which it proceeds to bury in the garden.

(By the way, the camera was still set on Florida time -- so don't pay attention to the time stamps.)

Several posts back, one of my commenters admitted somewhat sheepishly that they no longer watch the wildlife videos. By all means, if they are not your thing, don't feel obligated! I find them relaxing and in this crazy world, when humans are doing such terrible things to each other, it's nice to see other critters just going about their business. To me there's something quite calming about seeing a squirrel scratching around in the leaves or a pigeon pecking at nothing. Plus they're fun to edit together. But I promise not to find fault with you if you'd rather just skip them!

Still no sign of the fox with the damaged tail, and I'm not sure I'm seeing Q-Tip (the fox whose tail has a white tip) anymore either. Unless maybe the foxes' coats change with the seasons? I've stopped trying to name them because I can't tell them apart. I also haven't seen Bell the Bengal cat in ages.

Spring Flowers and Toxic Masculinity

Flowering Quince

I just tried to order a new wheelie bin for our rubbish collection. I noticed yesterday that ours, which has long been split along the sides, now has a big hole in it where two splits converged to make a wedge-shaped opening. It's big enough for rats to get through, and maybe even for foxes, so the bin must be replaced.

I looked online how to make this request and was told to log in to the council web site, which I did. I entered my address, blah blah blah, only to be told that although I could get a green recycling bin online, I had to call for a black rubbish bin. Why?!

As my mother used to say, "Everything has to be done at least twice."

The bins are split because our erstwhile upstairs neighbors, the Russians, used to pack about 600 pounds of renovation debris into them every week. Now that the Russians are gone, our rubbish collection is lighter than it's ever been, but we're still living with their legacy -- the damaged bins.

Comfrey

The pictures today show some of what's blooming in the garden. I couldn't work outside as much as I would have liked yesterday, because it got rainy in the afternoon, but I still managed to repot another plant. I also watered everything indoors and did some houseplant maintenance.

Clematis in the neighbor's garden

Snake's Head Fritillary, aka Checkerboard Lily

Grape Hyacinths

Bergenia

Last night, we watched Louis Theroux's new documentary about the manosphere on Netflix. In it, he interviews various guys who would once have been dismissed as mere douchebags, but who now -- through the power of the internet -- have become wealthy social media stars. We have created a culture where saying offensive, obnoxious things is enough to make people rich and famous -- and the more offensive they are, the more rich and famous they get.

I was reminded of a paragraph in a New Yorker article about Stephen Fry that I also happened to reed this weekend:

Once, he was an enthusiastic user of Twitter, but his optimism about social media has waned: “It’s like the opening of the canal system—a wonderful method of transport, you can get stuff made in Birmingham and get it to the sea,” he said. “Then, before you know it, it’s full of rusting Tesco trolleys and turds.”

I thought Theroux handled his toxic (or to be generous, misguided) interviewees quite skillfully. They were obviously wary of him and his motives, but he still managed to challenge them and ask awkward questions, sometimes in front of their girlfriends or de facto spouses. Dave turned to me at one point and said, "Louis Theroux is brave." Which is true.

Mothering Sunday

It's Mother's Day in the UK, or as it's often called, "Mothering Sunday." Even though I am not a mother in any way, shape or form, I celebrated by having a lie-in, sleeping until 7:30, which is pretty unheard of for me. I woke up at 6:30, glanced at the clock and thought, "You know, I'm just going to lie here for a few more seconds." And before I knew it, an hour was up.

I found the little paper cone above on Friday, on the sidewalk next to a bus stop and overground station. It was obviously someone's school project for Mother's Day, complete with a little daffodil. I debated what to do about it -- it had already been stepped on and given that the child in question was probably already on a bus or train I decided to pick it up and bring it home. I showed it to Dave and he said with his usual wry economy, "Some kid is bawling right now."

I wasn't sure whether the daffodil would open, given that it was a bit smushed, but it did...

So, kiddo, whoever you are, please know that your creation brought me happiness, even though I am not your mother. (I think I might take the paper part back and tape it up somewhere near the bus stop, on the off chance that the kid will pass by again and recognize it. Then they could at least bring that part back to Mom.)

This was yesterday's project -- spiffing up the front garden. See that bundle of sticks on the sidewalk in front? That's the dead bush that I removed. It was so dead that I pulled out the stump by hand. I chopped it all up and put it in a yard waste bag, and then planted a hydrangea in the dark middle of the garden and a buddleia where the dead bush used to be. And I pruned that big heather in front, which was largely dead inside and needed some spiffing up.

Here's the "after" shot. I hope that hydrangea isn't in too much darkness, there in the middle, but if it struggles I can trim things around it to bring in more light. They usually don't mind shade.

I had the last of the front porch squash for lunch, blending it into soup form. I was in a race against time to use it up, given that I had to abandon it in the fridge while I was in Florida, but it is now all gone.

Then I gave the grass its first haircut of the year! And I did some trimming to neaten things up in the garden, though there's still plenty more to be done. I have three full yard waste bags and that's the most the council will take per week, so any more work will have to wait.

Finally, I repotted two purple heart plants, combining them into a single pot. Do you remember how the windowsill in the library was overflowing with purple heart plants, all from cuttings from my big plant? Well, I brought several of them back home, in preparation for my retirement and because they were badly in need of new pots. I now have five pots here at home filled with purple heart -- not counting three still in the library, which will stay there after I leave. That stuff is a blessing and a curse! But you know how I am about cuttings. I have a terrible time throwing them away when I know I can root them so easily.

I also polished off two New Yorkers, and I was struck by this essay by a father whose son has transitioned to become his daughter. The dad is pretty much an ideal liberal parent, but he writes openly of his own perplexity at the changes in his daughter's life, including some unconventional relationships and a move overseas. I found it a sympathetic and realistic account of a parent navigating the lives and choices of grown children in today's complex world.