Mildred and the Heath

Well, the snow never turned into much. We literally had about half an inch and you'd think, from the news coverage, that we'd been slammed by a blizzard. There were transit problems and photos of thousands of people standing around rail stations trying to get home.

Olga and I had no trouble going to Hampstead Heath yesterday, even though it wasn't the best day for a walk. It was cold and wet.

Remember the Tumulus, which I posted about a few weeks ago? It's been completely cleared of brush, and now we can see the underlying mound. I've never seen it so visible. It's nice, I suppose, but seems like that brush would have been valuable habitat for critters.

I spent the afternoon at home, watching Joan Crawford in "Mildred Pierce," which I hadn't seen for decades. I remember it being distastefully melodramatic, but I actually liked it a lot this time around. It's a good movie, and the cinematography is impressive, with lots of dramatic shadows designed expressly for black-and-white film. Very noir.

I also set up my Christmas presents from Dave. He got me two web cameras, which we can use to monitor the house (and Olga) in our absence. He thought it would be fun to be anywhere in the world and dial up an online image of our living room. (In theory, we could even speak to the dog through the camera, though I think that would freak her out more than comfort her.) We got one of them working, but the other one just won't cooperate. I think it may be fatally flawed.

I did hear back from my friend Katherine, who I wrote about a few days ago when I learned belatedly of the death of her partner Peter. She seemed happy to hear from me, even after such a long lapse of time. I'm glad I contacted her. It was the right thing to do.