I've had about enough of all this snow. It's starting to feel like Doctor Zhivago around here. I know this sounds silly to those of you in snowier climes, but it's March, and we Londoners are just not used to it! (Whine, whine, whine.)
The melt is continuing, but there was a temporary setback yesterday afternoon when more snow came swirling down. We were all sent home from school the moment the school day ended, all after-school activities cancelled.
So this is what our afternoon looked like -- quality time with Captain Picard.
Also, our trash collection didn't come yesterday, as I suspected it wouldn't, but there's no word (that I've been able to find) on when that will happen.
One good thing about being stuck inside: I'm forced to continue working on indoor projects. For example, I've been typing up more old journal entries. I'm almost up to 2004, which means I only have a few years left before all my handwritten journals are digitized. (To what benefit for the wider world I'm not sure, since they're not publicly available and besides, who cares? But it will sure make it easier for me to refer back to them should I ever have the impulse.)
I came across this little Post-It note that I glued into the journal back in 2003, having picked it up on Park Avenue in New York. Kind of peculiar, don't you think? What could it possibly mean? Why a shoe?
Politically, it's been an interesting week. President Trump (writing that still curdles my blood) is either utterly without conviction or incredibly stupid, or both. He veers from announcement to announcement with no preparation, surprising everyone -- including his staff and all the members of his party. It was refreshing to hear him speak in favor of some common-sense gun control on Thursday, but I knew he'd walk it back almost immediately. He would never be permitted by the rest of Republican-dominated Washington to advance a cause that's hostile to the NRA, but he'd win a small measure of admiration from this voter if he did.
Meanwhile, Brexit grinds onward, and it's all so unnecessary. I just want it to go away. Such ridiculous, shockingly expensive folly!
(Top photo: Train tracks in West Hampstead, yesterday afternoon.)