Holiday Lights

Poor Dave had to go back to the dentist yesterday afternoon for more procedures -- filling a cavity and fitting the crown for the tooth that got the root canal on Thanksgiving. As a result, his face was numb and he didn't feel much like cooking last night. We ordered out from a Japanese place on the high street.

As I went to collect my shrimp tempura bento box and Dave's sushi, I took my camera to capture some of the neighborhood holiday lights.

That's our neighbors two doors away, above -- they've got quite the holiday display going, with spangly lights and wreaths, a tree in the upstairs window and strands of white lights around the doorway and across the hedge (which you can't quite see in this photo). Is it unsurprising that they are Americans? My impression, at least from our street, is that British people go for a more subtle look. But I suppose that's probably not universally true – just as it's not always true that Americans like a lot of decorations. From the front, our house is entirely dark!

On the next street over, the entrance lights above the doorways to these flats have been changed to a type that changes color -- they go through the whole spectrum. I just happened to catch them in a blue/purple phase.

At this block of flats, they went for the elegant all-white-lights look.

Here's the tree on West End Green, also decked out in white and sponsored by The Hampstead Butcher, where Dave buys our meat.

There's also a menorah, across the street from West End Green where all the Deliveroo drivers hang out, waiting to bring restaurant take-away to customers.

The other drama yesterday evening, aside from Dave's dental woes, is that Olga didn't come home from her walk until well after 5 p.m. It had been dark for almost an hour and I was starting to get concerned -- she's usually home by the time we arrive from work around 4 p.m. I texted her walker and said, "Olga is still with you, right?" He assured me she was. He just got caught up in traffic, and indeed he showed up a few minutes later and Olga bounded indoors as usual.

The only reason I even questioned him is that we had a repairman in the flat yesterday to fix the saggy kitchen cabinet. (So that's done. Yay!) I had visions of him inadvertently letting the dog out to wander the neighborhood. But she had her collar so I pretty much knew she was with the walker. She may be smart, but she can't put on her own collar.

On a follow-up political note, I mentioned Trump's hard-core supporters in my post yesterday, and my continuing fascination with their convictions and delusions over the election. The New York Times had an interesting column by Thomas Edsall about those supporters and their motivations. Basically, according to Edsall's sources, it comes down to a fear of loss of status, and a desire to reacquire that status. For some, that simply means dominating their opponents: "Essentially, extreme political behavior reflects discontent with one’s own personal standing and a desire to actively rectify this through aggression." (Blog reader Sharon mentioned this column in the comments yesterday and it is an interesting piece, well worth reading. Thanks, Sharon!)