Sexy Nurse Mona

Well, it's done. Olga is off at the kennels and the house seems strangely quiet. It's kind of nice, actually, knowing I don't have to walk her this morning! The parting wasn't hugely dramatic -- she panted in the taxi on the way there, her anxious "What are we doing?" pant, and she followed us with her eyes as we left the kennel office. But I'm sure the minute we closed the door she was on to other things. She'll be moved out to the country near High Wycombe. I told her she was going to "Christmas camp."

I spent yesterday afternoon on photography. I'd planned to work on finishing NW1 and NW3, but as it turns out we got volunteers to do those areas, so I turned my attention back to NW10. I went up to Neasden and finished another 29 streets before I had to skedaddle back home to help drop off Olga.

I found this bottle on my walk. At one time it contained "alcool sanitar," which is rubbing alcohol in the Romanian language, I learned with a little research. The wildly sexist label cracks me up -- alluring Nurse Mona, with her knee hiked up and her uniform unbuttoned.

("You got to laugh to keep from cryin'," as one of my coworkers used to say. It's a phrase that comes in handy.)

Work-wise, yesterday was uneventful. I bought some small gifts for my coworkers on the way to school -- nuts and dried fruit and chocolate gift mixes. I took down the holiday tree and discarded the dog penis chain. (Needless to say, no one ever noticed that. It remains our private joke.)

I'll be back out with the camera again today, hitting a few more NW10 streets before coming home to pack. I'm not a complicated packer!

(Top photo: Houses in Neasden, yesterday.)