When Olga and I stepped out the front door yesterday morning, this was the scene on our street. Foggy London town! The mist lingered through the morning until lunchtime, when the sun finally came out. Of course, by then I was at work...
...but I got to enjoy the effects of the dramatic slanting sunlight in the library.
I was checking the news all day, as I'm sure all of us are, and I was dismayed when I woke up this morning that things are still up in the air. I'd hoped we'd get a result overnight. But I'm sure the ballot-counters are being especially careful, given the closeness of the race, and I get that. I'm nervous as a cat.
Here in London, we heard lots of pops and crackles last night for Bonfire Night, but I didn't see anything visually. Sometimes when I look down the hill on the horizon I can see fireworks, but not this year. Our latest lockdown began yesterday so any celebration involving a crowd would have been impossible.
People didn't hesitate to flock to the city for a last, pre-lockdown fling on Wednesday night, though. 🙄 (That's an eye-rolling emoji, in case it's too small for you to see.)
Oh, and remember how I mentioned that the BBC had imposed new rules on its journalists that some said may preclude marching at LGBTQ Pride events? And I pointed out that my former employer, The New York Times Company, had rules that allowed attendance in a non-political way? Well, the BBC director clarified their rules, and it turns out they're similar -- non-political participation is fine. So that's good.
Other than that, we're the same here as you are there -- waiting. Metaphorically, my cuticles are a wreck.