Moth

I was coming home from a meeting at school yesterday afternoon when I found this beautiful moth lying on the ground in the St. John's Wood tube station. I think it had probably beaten itself senseless against one of the lights, or maybe with autumn coming it had reached the end of its natural life span. At any rate, it was barely moving.

I picked it up and brought it home, mainly to photograph and identify it. I held it gingerly by the wings, but it was still a bit bedraggled by the time I got to our flat. (It's surprisingly windy in the tube -- you never really realize it until you're trying to keep something as lightweight as a moth from blowing away!)

Turns out, this is a Red Underwing moth, or Catocala nupta. Apparently they're quite common, and they fly in August and September. I love how furry it is -- like an insectile teddy bear!

I took my pictures and set it out on our balcony, where some bird has probably snacked on it by now.

Tumblr-ing

At the risk of overextending myself, I decided to create a Tumblr blog for my photos. Tumblr is really good for photo sharing -- people can "like" your photos as well as reblog them, so they can "go viral," as the young folks say.

Good grief. All these different electronic platforms. I'm still not tweeting, though I do have a Twitter account. There's only so much I can manage, you know?

At any rate, the photos I post at the Tumblr blog will be more or less the same ones I post here, so don't feel you should keep up with both sites. You're off the hook!

Yesterday was much more manageable in terms of work. I had a reasonably busy morning, and then went running, which got my blood moving. I went to Tesco and bought an armload of vegetables -- we've been eating lasagna the last few nights, and even though there are tomatoes and spinach in lasagna (ours anyway), I still felt vegetable deprived. I needed something crunchy. So I made a big stir-fry for lunch and we had long-stem broccoli at dinner. I also popped into the fishmonger (don't you love that word?) and bought some red snapper which Dave broiled whole. Red snapper sure are pretty fish.

I also managed to swing by Trellick Tower yesterday and photograph the graffiti, which of course has changed dramatically from last week. That place keeps me on my toes.

I finished "Treasure Island," and Dave and I are up to season 4 of "Breaking Bad" on Netflix. I think we're just about caught up.

(Photo: Portobello Road, yesterday.)

Night on Portobello Road

I didn't leave the house at all yesterday. I didn't even open the front door. I had work, work, work.

I can already see the downside to working at home -- it's harder to turn your brain off. After all, your computer is always sitting there, just beckoning you to check e-mail or otherwise engage with the world of making a living. "Something important might have happened within the last five minutes!" it says, calling, calling.

This new job is like a big jigsaw puzzle. I have to fit lots of pieces together -- lots of schedules, lots of communication. I lie awake at night sometimes thinking, "If I have this person work these classes and this other person work these classes..." (I'm scheduling substitute teachers, remember?)

Yesterday I also managed to do laundry, and vacuum the house, and read a few pages of "Treasure Island" on my lunch break. (Leftover chicken hacked into chicken salad, with a handful of our home-grown tomatoes!) But still: Work, work, work.

Maybe I'm just out of the rhythm of working. That could be why a busy day feels so draining.

At any rate, I think today won't be as crazy. Hopefully I'll be able to go for a run and maybe get over to Trellick Tower to shoot some graffiti pictures.

I hasten to add that I am not complaining. Having work, even when it keeps your mind racing as you lie in bed at night, is better than having no work at all!

Bec and Broadway

I visited Tooting yesterday, which along with Dorking and Frognal tops my list of London-area communities with the silliest names. I took the tube to Tooting Broadway, which is way down in south London, and walked north past Tooting Bec, all the way up to Clapham Common. The weather was fabulous.

Among the amusing storefronts I found: Belly Heaven, a jerk chicken restaurant. As I photographed it, the fairly intimidating-looking proprietor called out to me, and I thought, Oh boy, I'm about to get in trouble. But he turned out to be a totally nice guy and even offered me free jerk chicken. Unfortunately I couldn't stick around for the next batch, but maybe I'll take him up on it in the future!

What else did I find? Another Carribbean joint called Tickle Me, a halal food place called Freezeland, a video store (!) with a life-size Star Wars stormtrooper in the window, a window full of mannequin heads sporting cheap wigs.

After my long walk, I ducked into Caffe Nero -- an Italian-style coffee chain -- at Clapham Common. I got a latte and a chocolate muffin and listened to a heavyset man at the next table expound to his companion about the brilliance of British movie and television adaptations. He was especially taken with "The Jewel in the Crown," E. M. Forster and Evelyn Waugh. I was privy to exclamations like, "Oh, and the music in Brideshead was perfect. Perfect!"

It got kind of a kick out of it, since I'm into all those British adaptations myself. But I resisted chiming in on the conversation. I wasn't sure I wanted to open that door, you know?

At any rate, I'm so glad I got out. I get stir-crazy if I sit around the house all day, and I unexpectedly had to do some work in the morning and that made me cranky. Walking it off made all the difference.

Short Items from the Culture Desk

-- Dave and I went to see a singing trio called Fascinating Aida with some friends last night. I'd never heard of them before, but they're quite well known for their comedic, witty, bawdy songs. One, called "Cheap Flights," was a YouTube hit at one time, and they have another about New Zealand, which seemed particularly appropriate given my blog post yesterday. (I'm sure they sang it just for me.)

-- I'm reading "Treasure Island," one of those books that I probably should have read about 35 years ago but for some reason never did. It's amazing how many names and references from the book are already familiar: Long John Silver, for example, or the Admiral Benbow Inn. When I was growing up in Tampa there used to be an inexpensive hotel near the airport called the Admiral Benbow Inn. Apparently there really was an Admiral Benbow, but I'm guessing without "Treasure Island" the hotel owners would never have come up with that name.

-- Dave and I watched "What's Up Doc?" yesterday afternoon. It's a perfect weekend matinee movie. Somehow, Dave got through his childhood without ever seeing it, despite the fact that it seemed to be on television at least annually in the late 1970s. It's still a hoot. We debated whether Barbra Streisand was attractive in those days (I said yes), but we both gave thumbs-up to Ryan O'Neal.

-- And speaking of old movies, some of you may know that I'm a fan of '70s disaster flicks, especially "Earthquake." So dramatic! So campy! Well, I thought I was an "Earthquake" aficionado, but I joined a Facebook fan page for the movie -- at let me just say that I can't begin to hold a candle to some of these other people. They know every line, every flaw in every scene, every backstory on every casting decision. Their comments are hilarious to read. I'm just a beginner.

-- Back in March, when I was last in Florida, my friends John and Sue introduced me to a brand of beer called Magic Hat. The beer was good, but I especially dug the bottle caps. The inside of each cap bears a curious phrase of some kind. On my two caps: "Tweak the nose of those who doze," and "The secrets of the universe are contained herein." I've been carrying those phrases around in my iPhone ever since, meaning to add them to my blog, and I kept forgetting. So here you go.

(Photo: Window-washing day at Harmony Nail in New Cross, last Friday.)

Wacky New Zealand

Yes, those are toilets. About 20 of them, I'd say.

My photo-scanning efforts recently turned to New Zealand, and a trip I took there with my mom in 2004. New Zealand, as you might expect given its remoteness, is an unusual place. Not only is it swarming with wildlife seen nowhere else on the planet, it's also just a little strange. In a good way.

The toilet photo above was taken in a tiny town on the North Island's Atlantic coast. I wrote "Palm Beach" on the back of the photo, but I don't remember visiting Palm Beach -- which is on an offshore island -- so I'm unsure where it was.

These dog and sheep buildings are in Tirau, in the interior of the North Island. I saw them while driving, and pulled over so fast that I bashed the hubcap of our rental car against the curb! Fortunately, the car company didn't dock me for it. Maybe they're used to tourists having those kinds of reactions.

An unusual wildlife crossing, somewhere on the South Island's west coast. We didn't see any actual kiwi birds, at least not in the wild, but New Zealanders take them -- and their preservation -- very seriously.

And finally, in and around Queenstown on the South Island, Mom and I kept finding huge sculptures of New Zealand's flightless birds. They became a kind of running joke.

I love the way my mom framed this photo. Apparently she liked that empty patio table as much as me or the kiwi!

Here's an emu -- I think? And we have one more photo of me with a huge sculpture of a takahe, a kind of flightless pigeon once thought extinct.

I loved New Zealand -- its remoteness, its small-town vibe. I think I could live there, but then again, it might be one of those places that's better to visit. It is a long way from everything.

Circuses Without Bread

Dave and I are finally catching up on some of the political convention speeches. We haven't seen Obama's yet, but we watched Michelle Obama and Bill Clinton on YouTube last night.

Then, for the sake of balance, we watched Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan. (We tried to watch Rick Santorum but we just couldn't stand it.)

Now, I ask you -- how could the choice be any more clear? The Republican convention (lily white, by the way) seemed cheerless and flat. There were empty seats. There was a background hum during the speeches that sounded to me like people talking, maybe about their next trip to Chick-Fil-A. There was just no energy in that room -- particularly when Romney spoke. Say what you will about Paul Ryan and his penchant for inaccuracies (I'm being nice and not calling them lies) -- he can at least give a speech. Watching Romney is like watching your high school principal at an assembly.

Michelle Obama, on the other hand, was a moving, forceful, graceful speaker -- like Jackie Kennedy with more substance. And Clinton! Holy mackerel. That guy could have gone on forever. Here he was talking about the nitty gritty of deficits and medicare and I was enthralled. I didn't always agree with him as president, but I sure do miss him. And I don't mean to dwell on mere showmanship -- I haven't seen a bunch of news articles about inaccuracies in his speech.

And let's talk about the energy in that room. The demographics of the party were on full display -- blacks, whites, asians, Hispanics, you name it. Everybody was there, and everybody was cheering and nodding and participating. I did not get the feeling of forced enthusiasm that seemed to pervade the room at the RNC in Tampa.

We'll watch Obama's speech tonight. But really -- isn't the choice already crystal clear?

(Photos: Street art on Old Kent Road in South London. According to Wikipedia, the common phrase "Bread and circuses" is "a metaphor for a superficial means of appeasement. In the case of politics, the phrase is used to describe the creation of public approval, not through exemplary or excellent public service or policy, but through diversion, distraction and/or the mere satisfaction of the immediate, shallow requirements of the populace." As the street art points out, some -- Romney and Ryan, I would argue -- have even sacrificed those shallow requirements.)