Couch Drama

I spotted this Jersey Tiger moth the other day, perched on one of our bedroom windows. They're hard to see in foliage but occasionally they sit out in the open, and if disturbed they fly away in a colorful flutter. (Their underwings are bright orange.) Right after I took this picture, this one flew up into our mock orange and it took me a while to find it again.

Apparently these moths used to be scarce in London but are more common now. I see them pretty much every summer.

I wound up staying home yesterday and getting involved in some household projects. I upended the bed in our bedroom and cleaned beneath it, which is a bigger project than you'd think. It requires lifting both the mattress and bed frame and leaning them agains the wall, running the vacuum through the wilderness of accumulated dust, cobwebs and dog fur under the bed, and then repositioning all our shoes (which Dave in particular stores under the bed). I always feel better after it's been done.

I finally put away Olga's leash, collar and toys. But I haven't thrown anything out. Yesterday I came across that silly Christmas sweater we bought her in Whitstable last year. I started to put it in the trash, because we'd pretty much demolished it cutting bigger holes for her front legs, and we never intended it to last beyond the season. But it smelled so much like her that instead I put it in a baggie and put it up in the "dog cabinet" where I've kept all the rest of her stuff. I'll get rid of it eventually.

Little by little.

I only cried once, when Dave advanced the idea of shopping for a new couch. We do desperately need a new couch. We purchased the one we have from the previous renters of this flat, another teacher from our school and her husband, who had recently bought it new. I've never loved the style and it's now 12 years old, with a hole in one of the cushions and various signs of wear and tear. But of course it's where Olga spent all her days. Pretty much any time I looked in on her via our home security camera, there she was, sound asleep on the couch. "I don't think I'm ready to get rid of it," I told Dave, blubbering like an idiot.

I really am, though. We're going to couch shop very soon.

We went to Waitrose and Dave talked me into getting three new dahlias -- including the two varieties in the lower right corner of this picture. The feathery salmon-colored blossom is called "Iron in the Fire" and the pink one is called "Poodle Skirt." The third one, a deep purple called "Dalaya Dark Aruna," isn't blooming at the moment -- but as you can see, most of our other dahlias have finally burst into life. I can't complain anymore about having too many of them -- I've done it to myself. (We have 11, which isn't a problem until it becomes time to put them in the shed over the winter or repot them for spring.)

I mowed the lawn in the afternoon and beat back more of the wilderness. I reclaimed the grassy area around the teasels after "No-Mow May" and I think the teasels themselves will come down within the next few weeks, so as to limit their re-seeding. I'm looking forward to opening up the garden once again and being able to more freely move around.

We're still watching "Bewitched" every evening -- a silly show but a healthy dose of comforting nostalgia for both of us.