June's Camera

When I visited Florida in early March for my stepmother's memorial, my stepsister and brother-in-law gave me her camera, a Canon SX70 HS. It's a lightweight, easy-to-use point-and-shoot with a built-in zoom and some other features. As it turns out, the timing was good, because I'd been thinking about buying a so called "bridge camera" to have a lightweight alternative to my big DSLR.

Yesterday I took June's camera out for a trial run. I'd never used it before and I wanted to see what kind of pictures it would take. I walked to Gladstone Park, on the other side of Cricklewood, shooting images along the way.

The photo above I took just steps from our flat, on West End Green. That guy was putting some kind of coating on the bronze plaque that commemorates the planting of that tree in 1902 for the coronation of King Edward VII. He'd brush it on and then heat it with a blowtorch (hence the gas bottle next to him). I asked him about it, and he said it's called "patination" -- it restores the bronze coloring so the plaque doesn't entirely oxidize and become green.

I wanted to try the camera in various situations. This was my test to see how it handles close-ups. I saw this brick with an interesting manufacturer's mark, only belatedly realizing there's a little ladybird (ladybug) on the left-hand side!

I shot all these pictures on auto, so I wasn't experimenting too much with settings. There is a manual option so I could use that if I wanted. The camera has a fold-out screen on the back, so I could frame my shot using that or by holding it up to my eye. I tried both methods.

Look at those beautiful doors! Can you imagine how great they must look from the inside, with sun coming through that stained glass?

Again, the camera seems to handle close-ups well. Canon introduced this model in September 2018 so it's not very old, and it wasn't particularly cheap. (My stepmother, who traveled the world, would not have a cheap camera!)

It handles street photography pretty well, though there's a bit of lag between snapping the photo and being ready to take the next one. It's not as rapid-fire as my big Canon EOS 5D Mark III.

It does landscapes nicely too. Here's a wood in Gladstone Park full of blooming wild garlic, also known as ramsons, with some bluebells in the back.

On the way home, I stopped in at a Costa in Cricklewood and had coffee sitting in the window, looking out on this scene, which I shot with my phone:

Interesting that there are two "casinos" right across from each other! Always being ripped off by The Man. The phone picture is smaller than the camera shots, about 2 MB compared to 6.5 MB -- so June's camera does indeed appear to capture more information than a phone.

WHOA! What is this?! I didn't take this picture, obviously, but it came along with the others when I downloaded the images. Then I remembered my brother-in-law saying he took the camera to Lettuce Lake Park in Tampa to try it out himself -- he still had the date stamp turned on, so you can see that photo was taken Feb. 28, a few weeks after June died. There were a few other odds and ends on the memory card as well.

My verdict is that I'm pretty pleased with the camera. I think it will serve me well when I don't want to carry my big DSLR, which weighs 3.5 pounds with my lightest lens (and I'm usually carrying a camera bag containing two other lenses as well, weighing several more pounds). This camera is light enough to put in a jacket pocket. What a relief!

Wires, Glass Art and More Garden Footage

From my walk through Queen's Park on Friday

I decided my task for yesterday would be to tame the wires in the alcove by the front door -- the ones strewn like giant spaghetti noodles behind the rainbow unicorn. In late morning I went to the hardware store and bought more cable clips, and affixed the phone line (which carries our internet) around the perimeter of the wall. I cut off the coaxial cable, which does nothing functional -- I think it's a remnant of a very old, outdated cable TV installation. I coiled up the detached cable and put it in a cabinet in the bathroom that we never use.

And voila! The floor behind the unicorn is now clear and it looks so much better.

Hey, it's a small thing, but I consider it a step in the right direction.

Also, I took the plunge on planning a little trip for next month. My old friend Bill from New York recently moved to Vienna with his husband. I haven't seen him in years, so I'm going to fly there for a few days in mid-May. Woo hoo! I last went to Vienna in 2023, so not that long ago, but I liked it and I'm happy to go back, especially to see things from the perspective of someone who actually lives there. Plus I spent most of my days on that last visit in librarian training, and this will all be free time!

I took a closer look at the art glass vase that I got from my stepmother's house in March. I remember my dad buying this vase when he got his bachelor pad at the La Place Apartments in Tampa following my parents' divorce in 1974. I think he bought it at an art show. In fact my brother and I may have been with him at the time.

I wanted to try to figure out who made the vase. The signature looks like "J Buron / 74" and I couldn't find any glass artists online with that name. But there is a man named John Byron who signed his works in an identical style and made similar vases from that same time period. I think this is a Byron vase and the signature got slightly obscured when he leveled the base. I don't know anything else about Byron, such as where he worked or sold his creations, but I'll keep looking.

And finally, I downloaded the garden cam for another wildlife-watching extravaganza! Who needs David Attenborough, honestly?!

We start out with Tabby the cat sauntering past, followed 15 minutes later by a fox with a stick or bone in its mouth. I sure would love to know what they're carrying around out there. The fox makes a circuit of the garden and stops behind a pot of hostas to give itself a scratch.
-- At 0:36, a squirrel works its way perilously far out a branch on our Japanese maple. They always nibble bits of the maple as it's budding. I imagine the tree's sap is rising and the new growth tastes sweet? Just a guess.
-- At 0:51, we get a quick daytime glimpse of Pale Cat.
-- At 0:55, later that same afternoon, we get a bee buzzing past the camera with Pale Cat sitting magisterially atop the back garden wall, surveying his domain.
-- At 1:09, a squirrel hops down from the bench and toward the camera.
-- At 1:23, a curious cat comes right up to the camera for a sniff. It might be Pale Cat, but I can't quite tell because it's so close to the camera you can't see its markings.
-- At 1:33, we get a partial glimpse of another cat. I think it's Blackie.
-- At 1:38, we see a series of visits by foxes hours and/ or days apart.
-- At 2:14, I put down a fish skin for the foxes. One finds it about 20 minutes later and carries it farther back in the garden, eats it and then sniffs around looking for more.
-- At 3:25 a different fox (Crooked Tail) comes a couple of hours later, drawn by the scent of the fish skin, but it's long gone.
-- At 4:32, we see another squirrel prowling cautiously through the green alkanet, a common weed/wildflower with blue blossoms that the bees love.

You may notice that the perspective of the garden cam changes several times. I've been moving it around to see where I can get the best footage, and to change up the background so we're not always seeing the same thing. OK, it's not quite Attenborough.

A Fox, a Pig and a Ceilidh

This fox visited our garden yesterday evening, when it was still light enough for me to get a photo of it peering at me from behind the birdbath. I'm always happy when I catch a glimpse of the foxes in daylight so I can appreciate their coloring, and now that we have daylight so late in the day that's likely to happen more.

I spent most of the day reading "London Falling," which I finished. I powered through that book. It was so good -- a real page turner. It tells the true story of a London teenager who died in 2019 in a fall from the balcony of a luxury apartment on the Thames. Why he fell, and the circumstances surrounding his presence in the apartment and what might have happened there, are a mystery. It turned out he was pretending to be the son of a Russian oligarch and had become mixed up with some unsavory characters who wanted his nonexistent money -- and that's the barest of the bare bones of the story. The author wrote an article in The New Yorker about the case in 2024, which he then expanded into this book. An outstanding read! I sent it to school with Dave this morning, to donate it to the library.

It did make me marvel at the underground world of con-men, liars and thieves that surrounds us all every day -- particularly in a cosmopolitan, global financial city like London where people come from all over the world to invest their ill-gotten gains, real or imagined. It's enough to make a person a little paranoid.

On a happier note, I went to my first ceilidh yesterday. It's basically a Scottish dance party, similar to what we'd call square dancing in the USA. In fact I'm sure square dancing derives from these kinds of dances, or maybe vice versa -- one we danced yesterday was the Virginia Reel. The colonials have come back to haunt the motherland!

One of Dave's colleagues in the music department hosted this ceilidh (pronounced "kay-lee") for her birthday, in the gym of a school right around the corner. Dave insisted on the walk over that he wouldn't dance, but of course he wound up dancing twice, one of those times with me. It was fun to watch and I got to chat with some of his co-workers and even some kids from our school, who were there with their parents. I'm glad to be able to say I am no longer a ceilidh virgin.

No. There are no videos. At least not that I'm posting publicly.

On the way home we stopped into Waitrose to pick up some stuff for dinner and I found this item in the garden section. This little ceramic pig is stuffed with sheep's wool, and supposedly, hanging it in the garden gives the birds something to nest with. I bought it for £7 even though it seems a bit ridiculous. Who doesn't want to give their birds a cozy nest?! We'll see if any birds use it.

There's a sucker born every minute, as P.T. Barnum supposedly said. Or was it W.C. Fields? Someone like that.

In the evening I poured a glass of wine, using these glasses that Dave's parents and sister sent me for my retirement. They capture my mood pretty accurately!

Household Stuff, Plus Birds

This is that weird little alcove by our front door that I spent time cleaning up recently. The bird's-foot cactus used to live on that windowsill, and the gigantic mutant ZZ plant was in front of the alcove so I could never get in there to clean. Now we've moved the cactus, discarded the misshapen ZZ, cleaned and dusted and brought in that very sculptural dracaena, which is perfect for that space. My next step is to tidy those wires on the floor behind the unicorn. When the ZZ plant was there we couldn't really see them, but now we can and they must be dealt with.

That dracaena, by the way, is the one I rescued from the lawyer's office.

Yesterday was very domestic. The most exciting thing I did was take our sheets and towels to the laundromat to be washed. (Maybe now that I'm home more I should do them myself -- the main problem is how to dry them, since we no longer have a clothesline and our dryer is too small for an entire king-sized sheet set, unless I want them to come out looking like wadded-up Saran wrap.)

I also mowed the lawn, which is why I took these photos.

Things are sprouting, like the Inula at lower left, even though we've had very little rain and the ground is dry as a bone. I planted my teasel seedlings yesterday and actually bent my spade trying to dig the hole! Once I wet the soil and added some compost it was easier to deal with.
 
You can see my wildlife cam to the right. I've been moving it around the garden trying to get the best perspective.

Here's the garden from the bench. The forget-me-nots and bluebells are blooming up a storm! And as you can see we have one teasel right smack in the middle of the lawn -- not the best place, but that's where it grew. Better than last year when we had about 15 of them out there.

I also got a delivery of some compost and topsoil from Wickes, and used it to repot the citrus tree, which wasn't as root-bound as I thought but still needed a new and bigger pot. I bought Miracle-Gro compost because I was so unhappy with the Wickes brand I bought last year. We'll see if this is any better.

Well, THIS is an exciting blog post, isn't it?!

Steve Reed · Robin & Wren

Yesterday morning I awoke early -- about 4:30 a.m. -- and went out to the dining room to take a look at what was happening on the street. Answer: nothing much. But then I heard this little bird singing away in the pre-dawn darkness, and I opened the window and made a recording. According to my Merlin app there are actually several birds there -- a robin and a wren most prominently, but also a great tit and a European blackbird somewhere in the background. (The birds start about four seconds into the clip.)

Queen's Park

Yesterday was fabulous. I spent the morning reading, working my way into Patrick Radden Keefe's book "London Falling," and had a peanut butter-and-apple sandwich for lunch. And then I took a long walk through Queen's Park, Maida Vale and St. John's Wood before meeting my work colleagues for a pub night retirement send-off.

As always, it felt good to get out and walk with the camera. If you're a longtime blog reader you may remember that right after Dave and I moved here in 2011, I became quite infatuated with London's chicken shops. I never actually ate in them, but I was intrigued by all the creative names that so often made reference to the American South ("Carolina Chicken," "Dixie Chicken" and "Tennesseeland," for example), as well as the remarkably consistent red-and-blue signage. I noticed yesterday that one of the shops I'd photographed before is now closed (above) but it made a great photo subject, with that tattered blue tarp breezily trailing its fibers in the wind.

The bandstand in Queen's Park is looking colorful and quite spiffy.

I walked along one street beneath some ornamental cherry trees that are shedding their blossoms. The ground was carpeted with pink and when the wind blew, the petals rained down. I couldn't quite capture the full effect on video because of course when I pulled out the camera, the wind let up. But you get the idea.

I noticed that all the fox stencils that used to ornament that area are now gone. I was infatuated with those almost as much as the chicken shops.

I stopped at a park off Harrow Road, near the Regent's Canal, and had a coffee. An obviously inebriated man came up to me and said, "Good afternoon, Phil Collins. You look like Phil Collins!"

(For the record, I look nothing like Phil Collins, except that we're both bald. And I had a hat on.)

I gave him a rather pinched smile and he went on his way.

This bike shop selling baby seats came up with a novel way to market them.

The pub gathering in St. John's Wood was terrific -- lots of my colleagues came, as well as Dave, and I got a £200 gift card (!) for gardening supplies, which I will probably use to buy a new garden bench, as ours is literally on its last legs. I also got more cute cards and letters from students and school staff members, as well as a prayer plant from my co-librarian Staci. She made a nice speech that, as I told her afterwards, made me sound way more competent than I actually am. And I told everyone that I felt very lucky because, while I studied journalism in college, I had also considered library science as a possible major -- and how many people get to work in both of the fields that they consider their calling?

You're probably thinking, "Good grief, enough already!" Don't worry -- last night was pretty much my final hurrah, at least until the end-of-the-year luncheon at school in June, which I plan to attend.

Totoro Gets a Bath

This is the candytuft plant that Olga used to wipe her face on after eating every night. Pretty much her whole body, in fact. This spring it's looking unusually lush and blooming up a storm, not having been mauled recently by a dog.

This is one benefit of being petless -- the garden plants are unmolested. As much as Olga loved the garden, she did inflict some damage, wandering through the borders and creating a shady bed beneath the peonies. Not a reason to avoid getting another dog, though I'm still leaning toward waiting until after we return from our summer holidays.

before                                                                                                        after

I could definitely get used to this retirement thing! Just about the most urgent activity I performed yesterday was giving Totoro his semi-annual bath (above).

I also puttered around the house -- thereby proving that puttering can indeed be done indoors as well as in the garden. I vacuumed, did a load of laundry and finished "The Haves and the Have-Yachts." I've had a Waterstones gift card hanging around for months, I think since Christmas -- I can't even remember who gave it to me. So in the afternoon I walked down to Waterstones and bought Patrick Radden Keefe's new book, "London Falling," which I've heard is very good. The cashier at the bookstore was generous with her praise -- she said it was more about human nature than just a true-crime story. I'm looking forward to reading it. I loved his book about the IRA, "Say Nothing."

Here's some of what's blooming in our garden at the moment -- the aquilegia (above), which has some little insects in the center of the flower...

...the azaleas...

...and the African daisies, which seem to love that sunny spot on the patio.

I was unamused to find mating scarlet lily beetles near our lilies. I can't bring myself to kill them -- they're so pretty and jewel-like -- but they'll gnaw the lilies to nothing if I leave them alone. So I'm not sure what to do. Last night I threw a couple of them over the garden wall -- our neighbor is having her house renovated and she's gone, so she won't care -- but that's the coward's way out and I'm sure they'll return. I really should just be merciless.

Finally, here's the tulip bouquet Dave gave me for retirement. Since I blogged my other flowers I felt I should show these off too. See the foam flower outside the window? It's going gangbusters as well.

This really is the best time of year to retire. I love having these spring days free and open, with so much to enjoy in the garden.

And Then We Came to the End

Well, yesterday was a rather overwhelming blur. Lots and lots of farewells and emotions, hugs and handshakes. I cruised into work in the morning to find my desk plastered with posters like the one above, made by students in the Lower School. And the kids had all been told to stop by my desk and say goodbye, so I had a steady stream of well-wishers telling me how much they were going to miss me.

It does a person's ego good, I'll say that.

My boss made cupcakes! We handed them out to teachers who came to wish me well. (There were many more than just these six.)

And remember that group of high-school boys who drove me crazy for years, gathering in a big mob in the library and horsing around and generally being disruptive? Well, they're graduating this year, and they all came in together to say goodbye, and brought me flowers. I was astonished.

They also gave me two thank-you cards, bearing messages like, "You made the library so much fun!" and "Thanks for putting up with our shenanigans." Which is hilarious, because I've always thought I was a grim-faced Scrooge to them. It just goes to show that what counted for them was their overall experience in the space -- a net positive, despite my periodic reminders to pipe down. "Thank you for always letting us play Brawl Stars and being so nice," another one wrote.

And I got another bunch of flowers from a mom and her two kids who have been among my most faithful library patrons. They're now on my kitchen windowsill (above) while the boys' bouquet is in our entrance hall.

Dave bought me flowers too -- a bunch of tulips -- and then complained that the boys had shown him up by giving me a much more expensive bouquet.

Overall, it was terrific day, and one I'll never forget. I had two celebratory martinis after I got home, and later realized as I was lying in bed that I am no longer a librarian. (Well, to be completely accurate, I was never a librarian because I don't have a library science degree -- I was a library assistant. But now I'm not even that!) You don't realize how much of your identity is wrapped up in your occupation until you've left it behind. What am I now? A photographer still, a journalist (at least here), but no longer a librarian. That change leaves me feeling a bit hollow.

Snapped by my boss on the way out the door!

A Poetic Lament

Well, this is it, finally! My last day of work. It's hard to believe. I've been working since 1983, so 43 years! Even though I've had vacations and I know what it's like to not have to be anywhere on any timetable, I haven't had the luxury of living like that for quite a while. I guess the year I spent not working right after we moved to London was the last time.

My co-workers keep asking me in hushed voices, "How do you feel?" Like they expect me to burst into tears or present them with some dramatic emotional revelation. Honestly, though, I feel fine. I have no qualms about this at all. I am absolutely ready and I'm sure it's the right decision -- which is exactly what I tell them: "I feel great!"

Meanwhile, for one final day, I'll focus on my job and getting everything done that needs to be done to hand it off to my successor, who starts Monday. All I can say is, more power to her.

I've photographed that wisteria above many times before, like here and here and here. It's right around the corner from the school and it's impressive enough that lots of people stop to take its picture, as you can see!

And this tree is just a bit further down the street.

Yesterday a 6th-grader came up to my desk and asked to borrow some scissors. I loaned her mine, and she pulled a small plastic tube out of her pocket and cut the tip off, then handed the scissors back to me. I didn't think anything of it and just put them back in my drawer. A couple of hours later, when I went to use them, they were positively welded shut. I couldn't get them open no matter how hard I pulled. Clearly the student had opened a tube of Super Glue. God only knows what she did with it.

Oh well. If she had to destroy my scissors at least she waited until my second-to-last day of work!

Yesterday I found this little Post-It note on the floor of the Lower School library. I thought it was pretty clever and showed it to a librarian and we had a laugh. "First-World kid problems," I said.

But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed too clever. Would an urban Lower School kid know what an "outboard" was? So I did some Googling, and sure enough, it's from a Shel Silverstein poem. I guess it's still impressive that the student felt motivated to write it down.

The Fire Alarm

On my recent walk through Hammersmith

Every Monday afternoon, when the school day has ended and many kids have gone home but I still have a crowd in the library, the school tests its fire alarm. It's an agonizing process week after week -- a pre-recorded announcement of the test (featuring the voice of someone who hasn't worked at the school for years),  followed by an ear-splitting alarm. I have often wondered about the long-term effects on my hearing, being subjected to that test week after week.

Well, yesterday, after the test, I texted Dave: "Last time I'll ever have to do THAT!"

I'm having a lot of those moments. It's a nice feeling.

I've also had several more kids drop by my desk to wish me well, and a co-worker brought me a package of shortbread cookies that she picked up in Norwich over break, so little I'm getting little pre-retirement boosts here and there. I still can't quite believe I have only two days of work left.

Dave and I had the dog conversation again last night. Part of me wants to start looking for a new one to adopt, but we have a two-week trip coming up in July, so we're thinking it might be better to wait until that's past. The problem is, there will always be something like that on the horizon, won't there? I don't want to delay indefinitely, waiting for the perfect moment that never comes, and I know the minute I open up a dog-adoption website I'm going to want to re-home all of them. At least we're thinking and talking about it.

The mysterious floral arch is back at McD's on Finchley Road. I guess it's just a marketing thing -- not in celebration of any particular occasion or event. You know, I haven't eaten at a McDonald's in years. The last time I can think of was in 2014 in Abu Dhabi, on our way to the Seychelles. Every once in a while when I'm away for dinner, Dave will order a McDonald's delivery to the flat. I used to love going there as a kid -- I specifically remember going in 1977 with my mom and brother and sitting outside on the patio, and then going to see "Star Wars" in the nearby cinema. And as I've mentioned, I worked there in high school. But it just doesn't appeal to me now.

Starlings Ravage the Lavender

Well, the big development yesterday was Viktor Orban losing in Hungary. That's great news and hopefully a sign that the world is turning away from nationalism and authoritarianism. The Hungarian voters turned out in record numbers and chose a closer alliance with the EU over strengthening bonds with Putin's Russia and Trump's USA. All I can say is, amen to that. Trump, you're next!

I'm giving you just a few pictures today, because otherwise I'll have to write a whole post about reading on the couch and I'm not sure that's possible!

Our miniature purple orchid is blooming again (above). I took that picture right after giving it one of its periodic showers.

This squirrel was doing some acrobatics to reach the suet balls in our bird feeder. Doesn't that starling look annoyed? This feeder is a replacement for the one we had previously, which was falling apart. It's narrower and I've noticed that the birds tend to fight each other off when they're eating from it. You'd often see two birds at a time perched on the old one, one on either side, but this one is a single-bird model. (And single squirrel!) It also doesn't have an external cage, which wasn't completely effective at keeping squirrels at bay, but it helped. Maybe I need to find another feeder.

Our pink-flowering cactus is blooming again -- only the second year it's given us flowers. Weirdly, I don't see any blossoms at all on the yellow one. It appears healthy but I guess it's taking the year off.

Yesterday afternoon a couple of starlings were ravaging our lavender plant by the back door. They were pulling new leaves and sprouts off the plant and flying off with them. I assume they're using them to line a nest. Maybe they like the aroma? I'm sure the plant can handle it but I still wanted to tell them to take it easy!

Fabergé

Does your town have these rental bikes? They seem like a good idea until you see a conglomeration like this. I took this picture on The Strand in Westminster, but even at the top of the street where we live, there's often a mass of these things parked and awaiting the next rider. (Both bikes and e-scooters.) I've never ridden one myself because I think getting on a bike in this town is like having a death wish, but they are popular. I just wonder if there aren't too many of them, and if there isn't a better way to control or regulate their parking.

I read the craziest story in The Guardian on Friday about a woman who had her £1,600 Givenchy bag stolen from a pub in Soho. That would be bad enough, but inside the bag were an Apple laptop, Apple AirPods, a £350 store voucher, £200 worth of makeup, £20 in cash and -- get this -- a £2.2 million emerald-encrusted Fabergé egg and watch set. Now, I don't mean to blame the victim, but what on earth would possess someone carrying a Fabergé egg to stop at a pub? If I had a Fabergé egg in my Givenchy bag (unlikely) I'd be headed straight to wherever I kept my safe, and I'd be on red alert every step of the way. The thief was caught after grabbing the bag while its owner was smoking, and then trying to use her bank card nearby. He went to jail, but the egg has not been found.

(Every time I hear Fabergé I think of Eddie Murphy's skit about buying his father Christmas presents: "Brut -- by Fabergé." Somehow, through the mysteries of capitalism, the jewelry and the cologne are linked, after cosmetics companies acquired the Fabergé brand name in the 20th century. There's still Fabergé jewelry too, so don't ask me to explain who owns what.)

Anyway, nothing that exciting has been going on around here, thank goodness. I had another quiet day yesterday, spent mostly reading. I also cleaned the outside of our kitchen cabinets, which is one of those infrequent but necessary household jobs. At some point I need to do our windows but I think I'll save that for next week, when I am retired!

My renewed US passport arrived in yesterday's mail, so that's something I don't have to think about anymore.

This is our last official day of Spring Break. The week has flown by. I have three more work days and then, after this coming Wednesday, I'm done. As the day creeps closer I'm a bit more apprehensive about how I'm going to spend my time and what it's going to be like, talking to no one all day. I might love it, because I'm kind of a solitary person anyway -- "odd and peculiar," as my mother used to describe us all -- or will I miss human contact? Time will tell!

Jump!

I woke up this morning with the Pointer Sisters' song "Jump" running through my head. Why this happened, I can't imagine. I've never owned the record, or any other Pointer Sisters records. I've never even liked the song. So what on earth, out of all the billions of songs in my brain, made my internal jukebox choose that one to begin the day?

We seem to be going through a bit of a cold snap all of a sudden. Nighttime temperatures on Monday and Tuesday are forecast to drop to 40º F (or 4.4º C). I'm hoping I didn't pot up all those dahlias a little too early. Apparently they hate being cold and wet, and we have a 50 percent chance of rain today and tomorrow.

Speaking of which, the freaking squirrels got into the dahlia pots yesterday and excavated several of them. They didn't dig up the bulbs but they sure made a mess. I had to redistribute the dirt and put some pottery shards and metal screening on top to keep them out. I do this every year. I don't know why I'm surprised.

I brought the Rhipsalis cactus back inside, after those little furry gray monsters reminded me how destructive they can be. No need to tempt fate there.

Having said that, the garden is still looking springlike. Our African daisies (Osteospermum) are blooming like crazy (top), as are...

...the forget-me-nots...

...the bluebells...

...and the camassia lilies. I just read on Wikipedia that camassias are related to asparagus and agaves. Who knew? Who even knew asparagus and agaves were related to each other? Biology is so strange.

Aside from shifting around more plants, I spent most of yesterday reading. I caught up on blogs and read more of my book, "The Haves and the Have-Yachts." I'm on a section that discusses a trend among the superrich to have pop stars come and perform at birthday parties and bar mitzvahs. Can you imagine? Apparently, for five million dollars, you can have the Rolling Stones come to your spacious back garden (or the appropriate venue of your choice) and sing to your spouse or mother-in-law. Rock and pop stars don't mind because they make a ton of money for a short, low-pressure gig, and the billionaires are willing to pay because what else are they going to do with their money?

You could not, however, have the original Pointer Sisters come and perform "Jump" for you, because only one of them is still alive. And she's 80, so she may not be jumping much anymore.

*Addendum: Actually, if she's like the woman in this article, she might be!

It's Dahlia Time, and Movie Music

I barely left the house yesterday, so here's another picture from my walk through Fulham on Wednesday. I thought that corner shop with the clock face was intriguing. Looks like it's for rent.

And here's a mystery. I passed a little plot of land off Colehill Gardens that was positively engulfed in weeds, but in among the weeds I could see chairs and benches. It looked like a small park or open space that had been allowed to run wild. Google Street View shows it 13 years ago as a cleared (if still rather viney) space containing tables and chairs. I wonder if it's a fenced garden belonging to the adjacent houses, or perhaps to a single owner, and they have simply chosen to let it be a wild space? On Wednesday the gates were locked and it looked like no one had been in there for a long, long time.

Here's our own garden, which looks only slightly less wild. Although I was home all day yesterday, I was working. My mission: to get the dahlias out of the shed and prepared for another growing season. Having inadvertently used lousy compost last year, I was determined to give them a better life this summer, so I bought new soil and repotted every single one of them. I also pulled apart and rinsed the tubers, and divided some of the plants so they'd have more room in their pots. Hence, we now have 13 pots containing dahlias, which is a completely insane number.

A lot of the tubers had rotted since I last examined them, which is strange. I don't know if I overwatered them last summer or if they got damp (or froze) in the shed over the winter, but in any case I clipped off all that rotten material when I repotted them. I didn't lose any entire plants, as far as I could tell.

It took a couple of hours and two trips to the hardware store for soil, but I finally got all that accomplished. Some of the tubers already have little sprouts emerging.

Dave and I also went on a houseplant cleanup binge. This started because we decided to get rid of a big, misshapen ZZ plant we had in the foyer. It wasn't looking too healthy and I've never liked it, because it was so heavy I could barely move it to clean. We lugged it outside, Dave chopped up the apparently diseased plant for the yard waste bin, and I put the still-heavy empty pot at the back of the garden with the proviso that whatever we put in it needs to be an outdoor plant in a permanent place. I am never moving that pot again.

Getting rid of the ZZ gave me access to the windowsill holding the Rhipsalis cactus (above), which I realized has a mealybug infestation. So I moved it out to the patio and rinsed it off. I'm planning to let it live outdoors for a while. That usually helps bring bugs under control.

I also moved a bunch of other plants outside for the summer -- two rubber trees, our big aloe, the gigantic yucca in our bedroom and the jade plant, which also has some kind of pest problem. I'm hoping some outdoor time gives them all a boost. I have been feeling a bit oppressed by the quantity of our indoor plants so this is a welcome change. I can actually access the dining room windowsill now, which needs a good cleaning of its own.

ISN'T THIS EXCITING?!?!?

What is exciting is my cosmos seeds are beginning to sprout! Woo hoo!

I also found another dead rat in the garden yesterday morning, which was very weird. Two rats in two days. I buried this one too. Is Pale Cat leaving us gifts? Is someone flinging them over our garden fence? Are they ingesting poison somewhere and coming here to die? I don't see one this morning, so hopefully that grim streak has now been broken.

Last night, aching from the day's exertion, Dave and I went to the Barbican for a performance. One of his students gave him a Barbican gift certificate for Christmas in 2024, and all last year we failed to use it. It actually expired, and when I realized that, I e-mailed the Barbican to plead for an extension, which they generously granted. One of my Spring Break goals was to use this freaking gift certificate, so I found a performance of movie and TV soundtrack music, part of the London Soundtrack Festival, and we went.

It was called "Homegrown Heroes -- From Bond to Thunderbirds." The first half was a collection of themes by various composers, performed by an orchestra of seasoned studio musicians, from well-known productions including "Wallace & Gromit," "Enola Holmes," "Atonement" and, indeed, "Thunderbirds." The second half was devoted to the work of composer David Arnold, and if you've seen movies such as "Independence Day," "Godzilla" or "Stargate," not to mention Bond films including "Quantum of Solace," "Casino Royale" and "Tomorrow Never Dies," then you've heard Arnold's music. He was actually there, receiving an award, which was an interesting and unanticipated brush with fame. Not that I shook his hand or anything.

Oh, and apologies to those of you who have apparently been counting down and thought yesterday was my last day of work. I'm actually on Spring Break this week, so my countdown has been paused. Work begins again on Monday, but only for three days -- next Wednesday is my final day before blissful retirement.