Off to the Land of Mozart and Freud

I'm cheating a little bit with my blogging today -- I'm writing this post late on Saturday and scheduling it to publish Sunday morning. That's because on Sunday, when I'd usually be writing, I will instead be winging my way to Vienna for librarian training. Or, more accurately, on my way to the airport to get that winging underway.

I'm excited to go, even though the trip is going to be ridiculously short. I'll be back on Tuesday evening. I hope to blog from Vienna but I'm only taking my work computer so this is going to be an experiment.

The picture above shows a new restaurant opening in West Hampstead. I'm not sure how I feel about "filthy rich food," but I like a good burger as much as the next person and the place is practically around the corner from our flat, so I'm sure we'll try it.

This happened yesterday, completely out of the blue. Thames Water closed the street right in front of our flat and jackhammered a big hole in the pavement. Something about a leaky pipe. Above you can see the yellow jackhammer thing (I have no idea what it's called, but it's like a bulldozer with a jackhammer attachment), and behind that a big red truck that sucked up the jackhammered pavement, dirt and debris like a gigantic Electrolux. The center of the road is closed and there's still a big hole, but now that the heavy equipment is gone I've seen some cars inch their way around the sides.

Dave's not thrilled about this -- "These things always happen when you go out of town," he said, harkening back to the time they shut off the utilities for a few days for a water main break while I was in Florida.

But there was good news yesterday as well -- MY BANK CARD ARRIVED! And it does work. I tried it at Waitrose to be sure. What a relief, that I can travel to Vienna and not be penniless. (I have a credit card and a bank card linked to my American savings account, so I would never have truly starved -- but I'd rather spend my British money.)

Dave and I took Olga to the cemetery for an afternoon walk. We found the cowslip blooming in the butterfly garden.

And someone had left not one but FOURTEEN portraits on the grave of English singer Marie Lloyd, who was quite famous in her day and apparently has fans even now.

Anyway, forgive me if I am not around blogland as much in the next few days, but I will continue to post daily. I promise.