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!