Sunday, November 17, 2019
The Zip-Tied Elephant
Olga took me for a walk yesterday morning, all over Kilburn and Paddington Cemetery. I let her lead the way, and when I do that lately, we often wind up somewhere in that area. I think she likes finding chicken bones on Kilburn High Road (I don't let her eat them, but that doesn't mute her desperate desire) and she knows the cemetery contains squirrels.
We usually walk there along Iverson Road, which leads past the heavenly food-scented Saturday farmer's market and the Thameslink rail station. The past two times we've taken that route we've encountered some seriously disturbed people.
Two weeks ago, an older woman was walking a little dog and carrying a cup of coffee, and when the dog pulled and caused her to slosh her drink, she threw the paper cup to the sidewalk in a rage and began yelling at the dog and jerking it around. Another passerby and I both tried to calm her down, but she responded with a full-throated scream and made for her house, cursing all the way and dragging the poor dog behind her. It was actually pretty upsetting. I worry about that dog.
Then, yesterday, we saw a different woman with dark hair ranting at random people walking past. "I'm a professor of psychiatry!" she yelled. "So f*ck off!"
Well, okay then.
Olga and I passed houses with interesting mascots -- a one-eared pig on a couch (top photo), a zip-tied plush elephant.
Here's Olga at the cemetery, in a rare moment when she wasn't racing after squirrels and barking.
We found a beautiful hollyhock that has managed to hang on late into the season. (I did see an insect buzzing around one of our garden flowers yesterday, so I guess despite the chill and damp, there are still pollinators out and about.)
We came across this bag, lying in a hedge near the West Hampstead library. I thought, "I hope there's not a foot in there!" (I didn't look.)
When we finally got home, Dave and I went out to look at our TV dish, which -- as you may remember -- the tree-trimmers knocked askew more than a week ago, leaving us without a signal. I stood on a chair and was able to reposition the receiver enough to recover the signal. We duct-taped it in place, proving Dave correct in his practical Michigan belief that almost anything can be repaired with duct tape. I'm so glad that's fixed and we don't have to call a repair person.
Dave had scheduled a cleaning service to come and clean our oven. This is one of the few household jobs (along with tree trimming!) that neither of us feels able or motivated to do properly. The guy showed up and did an amazing job -- we now have an oven so clean we can, well, cook in it.
I spent the rest of the afternoon reading and doing little household chores, topped off with an evening martini. We started watching "The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel" on Amazon, and after Dave fell asleep I followed it up with "Whatever Happened to Aunt Alice?," a 1969 mystery/horror movie that I read about recently on someone's blog. It wasn't exactly good, but Geraldine Page and Ruth Gordon in starring roles made it worth watching. An excellent and productive Saturday all around.