Sunday, August 19, 2018
This building is located not far from our flat, on a route along the high street that I often walk with Olga. As we passed the other morning, I got to looking at that face more closely. Who is it supposed to be?
The building itself is otherwise nondescript and doesn't offer any clues. I tried searching online and couldn't find anything, although I did learn that several houses across the street -- where the West Hampstead Library is now -- were destroyed by a bomb in World War II, killing ten people at a wedding party.
I also learned that Olivia Newton-John lived in a house on this road in 1965!
Could it be Pan, or some nameless satyr? Why would someone put a satyr on a building?
I think it looks like Susan Boyle. With horns. That's my vote.
Yesterday Dave and I went to a lunchtime open house given by one of our coworkers, and I wore the West Virginia Penitentiary t-shirt that I bought at Goodwill in Jacksonville a week ago. Would you believe someone at the party and his family had actually been there? Apparently they were in West Virginia visiting family and looking for something to do and the penitentiary gives tours. What are the odds?
We haven't seen any more mice since a few days after our return from Vietnam. Our upstairs neighbor is involved in what appears to be a massive project refinishing his entry stairs and front door -- there's been endless sanding -- and I imagine that's driven any remaining mice elsewhere. (Along with our return home.) Maybe we've finally conquered the domestic wildlife.
(Can you have domestic wildlife? Or is that an oxymoron?)