All Things Pass

We're having some rather inclement weather this morning. It's been furiously windy all night and the poor Maltese Cross flowers have been beaten almost horizontal. They'll perk up in a few days, though. This morning the tiny gray tits are on the bird feeder and the squirrels are running their "highway" atop our garden fence, so life goes on.

Which is what happens when things get rough, right? They're rough for a while and then life goes on. A lesson I could apply both to this week's events at London Bridge and our struggles with Dave's illness. Nothing is permanent. All things change; all things pass, one way or another.

Thanks for your comments yesterday regarding Dave's Crohn's. I don't want to sound like I'm frustrated with Dave -- it's more the illness itself, although as I said I do think we need to do a better job of management. I'm sure I'm not half as frustrated as Dave is. Maybe once this week is past and his last two middle school concerts are finished (tonight and Thursday) we'll have more time to focus on how to approach the doctors in early July.

He's not completely laid-out. We were talking last night about what to do for his birthday and he's got his eye on some Michelin-starred restaurants, where he says he will indulge in the wine pairings. It's all about priorities!

As for terrorism, I think Jenny O is correct in her observation that many young men are susceptible to a kind of extreme group-think, the camaraderie of a united effort that promises to bring "righteousness" to the world as well as money and fame and women to those involved. I'm sure young men who are otherwise relatively powerless in their lives are particularly vulnerable.

Speaking of terrorism, am I the only one who dislikes Facebook's "I am safe" feature? I mean, I know people are concerned -- and I used it for the first time on Sunday, because I was asked, and I could conceivably have been in the part of London that was attacked. But marking myself "safe" after such an incident feels very egotistical. "There's been a terrible disaster but I'm fine!" The odds that I as an individual would be involved in a random attack (especially after 10 p.m.!) are vanishingly small, and marking myself safe seems to claim it in a way that feels inappropriate.

It looks like it's raining now. Olga is not going to want to go on her walk.

(Photo: Loading furniture in Soho.)

Interiors

Yesterday was definitely a time for nesting and cocooning. Another beautiful day, but one tinged with sadness and incomprehension. I didn't leave the house all day, except to walk the dog around the block.

I get sick of trying to make sense of this crazy world. Every time there's an attack, I say the same things to myself and to you. They boil down to a succession of whys and hows and, in the end, of course, I have no answers. Because I'm trying to make sense of it with my rational mind, and terrorism is an inherently irrational act.

So, yeah, I stayed home, and I wasn't exactly depressed or anything -- I just worked in the garden and worked on my journal transcribing project and took pictures around the house. Olga didn't seem to want to go out anywhere. I think she was still tired from her walk the day before.

Deep down, I have been feeling a bit frustrated, though. Dave's health has been dodgy and he's tired a lot of the time, which severely curtails the kinds of things we can do together. He's unenthusiastic about travel or going anywhere or even taking a walk. He spent most of yesterday sitting on the couch plugged into his computer. I'm trying to be supportive, but I'm also feeling a bit like we're being too passive in the face of his Crohn's. We need to have a life, you know? We cannot let this illness tie a lead weight to our ankles. And it's taking a long, long time to develop a maintenance plan through his NHS doctors. We certainly appreciate the treatment, but it's hard to pass the low-energy weeks and months between appointments. (His next one is about a month from now.)

Am I being selfish? Probably.

Some of you mentioned my shirt in the last post -- some disparagingly, some enthusiastically. I'll have you know I love that shirt. I bought it in New York City about 12 years ago, from a guy selling them on the sidewalk on the Upper West Side near the Museum of Natural History. He made it using real leaves and some kind of wax-and-dye process, and I think it's awesome.

I'm stealing my post title from Woody Allen. Did you ever see the movie "Interiors"? It's one of Allen's serious films -- I haven't seen it in years, but I used to love it and its dramatic ending. Maybe I'll rent it this week, one of the evenings when Dave is at a student concert.

(Photo: Our front hallway, showing one of my grandmother's Roseville vases.)

Rhodie on the Heath

Weather-wise, we had a perfect day yesterday -- sunny but cool and comfortable, about 70º F. Olga and I seized the opportunity for a walk on the Heath, where we found this huge rhododendron in bloom.

Try as I might, I could not get a version of that photo with Olga alone. There were too many people walking around!

We spent a long time out, and I even played around with the timer on my camera to take some "selfies." Since I'm always behind the lens I have very few pictures of myself. Here we are, enjoying the luxurious summer grass. (And the Kong!)

Olga even managed to find a disgusting, clayey puddle in which to immerse herself. Random strangers stopped to photograph her as she frolicked in the water. And of course I had to reach in and retrieve her Kong, which disappeared beneath the surface. (Fortunately I found it right away.)

Back home, Dave and I did some gardening in the afternoon. (After bathing Olga.) Oh, and we got word that our lease will be renewed, which means we can stay put in this flat for at least another year.

(Addendum: Obviously, once again, I posted this before reading the news. If I have anything to say about last night's attacks in London -- and I'm not sure I will -- I'll get to it tomorrow.)

Feel the Bern

Dave and I went to see Bernie Sanders speak at an appearance in Brixton last night. This was a crazy evening -- a few weeks ago I heard about Bernie's upcoming appearance from a coworker, and I told a few other coworkers, and before long a whole web of people were going. I got invited to not one but three pre-parties, which put me in a bit of a quandary about which one to attend! I finally met up with Dave at his coworker Lisa's house, where I only had time for a few slices of frozen pizza before we had to make our way to the theater (above).

Bernie reiterated his political philosophy about the need to redistribute wealth downward through higher minimum wage, stronger social programs and better market regulation and taxation. He chastised Trump for pulling out of the Paris climate accords and emphasized the need for international cooperation to solve our problems and maintain world peace. (He never said the word Brexit, as I recall, but he certainly implied that he isn't a fan.) He told the crowd they needed to get involved not just by voting but by running for office and helping to organize resistance to the damaging trends being funded by the "oligarchy," the super-wealthy powers that be.

He never knocked Hillary Clinton, even when asked if he thought he would have won the election had he been the Democratic nominee. He said it's not helpful to look backward, but he did point out that early polls had him beating Trump. (Of course, polls had Hillary beating Trump too, right up to the end.)

Bernie also emphasized that most Americans did not vote for Trump, and do not support him now.

It was a fun evening, and it was heartening to see so many enthusiastic people -- mainly young people -- turn out to see him. They were a solidly pro-Labour, pro-Corbyn crowd, and British politics were very much in evidence too. (Parliamentary elections are being held in just a few days.) Corbyn even sent a text message, which was read onstage to the cheers of the audience.

In other news, I had my two tiny stitches removed yesterday after my skin biopsy the week before. I had to go to my doctor's office and have it done by a nurse. Still no word on whether I'll need to return for further treatment. Fingers crossed that I'm finished!

(See The Guardian's coverage of Bernie Sanders' British speaking tour here.)

Garden Photopalooza, Early June Edition

As I mentioned the other day, there's a lot going on in the garden right now! Here are some highlights, though I can't possibly begin to picture everything that's blooming.

First, Dave bought some peonies (above) that are looking pretty amazing. The hybrid is called "Bowl of Beauty."

I rescued this potted pink valerian in early April from the neighbor's house that's under renovation.

We've had loads of pink campion -- maybe a little too much, honestly. I've been letting it grow but it's getting awfully enthusiastic. It gets lots of aphids on it, providing habitat for ladybirds.

Remember how I mentioned the roses are going gangbusters?

This is a rose that we aren't sure we've seen before -- but I think we probably have. At this point, we've lived in this flat long enough (almost 3 years!) that I think everything that's going to bloom has bloomed.

These Maltese Cross flowers appeared literally overnight last night.

Here's our first nasturtium blossom of the season. Dave grew a bunch of them from seed.

And here -- looking like a mini-me of the nasturtium -- is a volunteer marigold that appeared all on its own in one of our flowerpots. (I later added the petunias.) It must have come from seed from last year's marigolds.

And finally, the delicate nigella, which manages to sow itself each year with no intervention from us.

Sgt. Pepper on Abbey Road

One of my blog pals, Sharon in Phoenix, occasionally visits London virtually by checking out the live web cam trained on the Beatles' famous Abbey Road crosswalk. A few days ago, she mentioned that there appeared to be a Sgt. Pepper-themed mural on the wall in front of Abbey Road Studios, where the band recorded that album and more.

So I walked over there yesterday morning to see it "IRL," as the kids say nowadays. (It's funny that it took someone in Arizona to tell me about a mural located two blocks from my workplace!)

Sure enough, the wall -- which is normally plastered with visitors' graffiti -- has been adorned with photographic images taken from the famous cover of "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." That album, as you've probably read, came out on June 1, 1967.

It was fifty years ago today
Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play...

The mural hasn't deterred the graffiti, I noticed.

I don't remember when I first heard this album. I wasn't even a year old when it was released, so there's never been a time for me when the songs weren't "oldies," but that's not to say I don't recognize how different it must have seemed.

What I do remember is the risible 1978 Sgt. Pepper-themed movie featuring the Bee Gees, George Burns and others. Does anybody else remember that? My stepbrother had that soundtrack and for a couple of months we listened to it quite a bit. Then he decided he hated disco and the Bee Gees were permanently banned from his turntable. I think that's about when I got my first Beatles albums and, fortunately, went back to the source!

Test-Taking and More

I finally scheduled the test we have to take to get Indefinite Leave to Remain in the UK. I've been holding off because Dave has been in the middle of concerts and all sorts of band activity, and he didn't feel ready to commit to studying up on "Who was Queen Boudicca?" and "At what age can you get a driving license in the UK?" But I'm getting nervous that so much time is elapsing. Our visas expire in September, and everything has to be done by then! So last night we set June 23 as the test date. I scheduled my test, but Dave -- who has to register and schedule his own -- has been stymied so far by the spam-filter on his work e-mail. Long story, but I'll make sure it gets done.

I'm not too nervous about it. I'm usually a pretty good test-taker. But I've got some studying to do too, no question. I've read up on the history, but I'm fuzzy on some aspects of current government.

We're at that time of year when the garden is going gangbusters. Every day there's a new surprise. The nigella opened this week, and the purple spire of a wild foxglove appeared all by itself in our front flower bed. The roses are insane. Just a few weeks after I posted our first rose of the year, we must have 40 blossoms out there, studding the bushes like fireworks in the sky. Now, as I sit here typing in the cool, quiet early morning, the pigeons are cooing for their breakfast (I usually put out seed in the mornings) and Olga is keeping vigil for squirrels.

We've been watching "The Keepers" on Netflix, a documentary series about the unsolved 1969 murder of a nun in Baltimore, and some related coverups within the Catholic church. Fascinating!

(Photo: A self-portrait in Soho on Sunday.)