Olga surprised me yesterday morning with a youthful burst of energy. We went walking to the housing estate, where we haven't been in months, even though it's not that far from our flat. She usually prefers to go around the corner and sniff garbage, so this was a welcome change.
When she was younger we walked here almost every morning. I hope she enjoyed it for old times' sake.
I texted Dave: "Free stuff!" He texted back, "No."
That middle chair is pretty cool, in my opinion, but I suppose we do have plenty of chairs.
I spent the day reading and doing some stuff around the house. Mrs. Russia met me outside to have a conversation about the front garden. Remember how we got an estimate for having it pruned? Well, it won't surprise you to know that the Russians have come up with an alternate plan that involves ripping out several large bushes and basically replanting the whole thing. These people! They can't just let things be! They have to renovate EVERYTHING!
I said no, that is not what I want, and I wrote our landlords to that effect. The ultimate decision lies with our landlords and the Russians, who co-own our house together, but our landlords may regret involving the Russians in this project. Which is what I told them. In the past the landlords have paid to trim the garden using our maintenance company's handyman service, and I don't know why that wasn't good enough. I even offered to split the cost with them. But they appealed to the Russians to share the cost, and now that the Russians feel they have an ownership stake in the front garden I'm afraid we will never hear the end of it.
In the evening we Skyped with Dave's mom. His dad has been ill and is now getting rehab for some back problems, and we're still considering going to see them in Florida next month. Dave has been on the fence about going, given his own recent surgery, but I think we're going to do it. Hopefully the Russians won't seize that opportunity to pave the front garden and turn it into Red Square.
We also watched "Mulholland Drive," David Lynch's mysterious movie about Hollywood, from 2001, to mark Lynch's recent death. I've been a Lynch enthusiast for years, ever since I saw "Blue Velvet" in the mid-'80s. Here are a couple of screen shots showing his mesmerizing style.
Lynch loved to put people in front of microphones. That's a common feature in several of his films. "Mulholland Drive" is all about identity and duality, and I think Lynch liked the idea of characters being on stage, performing, in an exaggerated semblance of how we all perform in real life.
Soon after we started the movie, Dave turned to me and said, "This is the weirdest thing I've ever seen."
And I said, "Yep. That's David Lynch!"
I would find it hard to walk past the middle chair.
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