Mystery Meds

When I walk to work now, it's still dark (or dark-ish) outside. Our clocks will change this weekend and that should give us more daylight in the mornings, but in the meantime, I pass scenes like the one above -- autumn colors in the blue-gray light of dawn.

I ordered some new masks the other day. I got sick of the ones I had, which were all patterned, and it may be my imagination but I think many people seem to be trending toward more neutral masks. (Or "face coverings," as they are euphemistically called.) I suppose that way we don't have to think about matching our masks to our clothing, a la Nancy Pelosi. Not that she doesn't do it exceptionally well.

The ones I got are black, and supposedly they're more breathable because they use nanotechnology blah blah blah. They don't really seem more breathable but I do think I like the black fabric better. It still seems so odd to me that we all now have to think about this additional wardrobe element as a matter of routine.

The other day I was in the medicine cabinet looking for a Band-Aid and I found a Ziploc sandwich baggie containing these two pills (on the left -- with an aspirin just to show how big they are). Does this ever happen to you, where you find random medicine with no idea what it is or where it came from? I've never bought any pills like that, I'm sure. Given their size I figured they were chewable, and after some Googling I determined that they're Alka-Seltzer antacids -- someone must have given them to me at some point. God only knows how old they are. But I saved them -- they're probably still good.

It's raining again this morning. No walk for the dog!

Leaves

It's raining steadily outside and I'm sitting in the darkened living room with Olga beside me. I'm in the mood for a simple post -- so how about some autumn leaves?

I found these in the cemetery, along with the first two below.

I found these two on my walk home from work yesterday:

They look like they might all be from the same species of tree, a maple or a sycamore -- obviously one of the more colorful trees out there at the moment!

Lampion

We spent yesterday mostly at home. I was a cleaning machine, again, vacuuming and doing laundry. I also made great progress in "Troubled Blood," my current book, and finished "Out of the Dust," my latest Newbery read. The latter, by Karen Hesse, was excellent -- one of the best Newbery books I've read so far -- about a girl living through the Dust Bowl in panhandle Oklahoma. I'll definitely recommend it to kids.

This tree on our street (above) is already losing its leaves, but for a brief time every fall it's a beautiful color. It's some kind of ornamental fruit tree, and it's always one of the first to change.

Olga didn't seem to want to walk in the morning -- still tuckered out from Saturday, I guess -- but after a long snooze she was ready for two loops around the cemetery in the afternoon. 

I picked this up at a florist's shop on Mill Lane. Because our Chinese lantern only ever seems able to produce one lantern per year, I figured having a second plant couldn't hurt. Maybe if they cross-pollinate we'll get more lanterns? I have no idea.

By the way, if you look at the pot, you'll see that it says "Chinese lampion." I first thought this was a laughable corruption of English by a foreign producer, but it turns out that lampion really is a word. It used to mean a lamp with a glass chimney in a carriage, but nowadays seems to mean a paper lantern. Who knew?

Olga and I found this sign in a window overlooking Fortune Green. Dave and I seriously considered trying to get a sign for our window, but there didn't seem to be much point, given that most of our neighbors aren't American voters. But I must admit seeing this gave me a boost.

I am feeling so much anxiety about this election. I keep telling myself, "No matter what happens, it's not the end of the world" -- but unlike in past years, I actually think it might be.

And here's Dave's pumpkin pie, which he finally had a chance to make. It's fantastic. We ate half of it last night!

Fox on Tracks

Olga and I took two lengthy walks yesterday -- first around the neighborhood and the cemetery in the morning, and then to Gladstone Park in the afternoon.

At the cemetery we found lots of colorful leaves catching in tree branches (above) and carpeting the ground. It was chilly enough that I had to wear a sweatshirt and a jacket.

But when we got to Gladstone Park later, I was surprised to find lots of summer flowers still blooming -- cosmos, marigolds, rudbeckias, borage. They're looking a little raggedy, for sure, but still with plenty of blossoms. We're perched right at that in-between time, when it's cold enough for leaves to turn but warm enough for flowers to linger.

Olga and I don't often visit Gladstone Park, because it's kind of a hike from where we live -- the last time we were there, I think, was back in August 2018. (Can that be right?!)

There were loads of squawking green parakeets in the trees, and also loads of squirrels scampering on the ground. Olga spent all her time obsessively stalking them (above).

Here's a close-up. Can you see the two squirrels by the base of the tree? Naturally she didn't catch any but she ran herself ragged.

We got several compliments from passers-by. One man said, "Beautiful dog, mate!" And then talked about how she looked just like his dog at home.

Another woman, watching Olga run after her ball, said, "How old is HE?"

I said, "SHE is about ten."

The woman said, "Really? I never would have guessed HE was that old!"

I said, "Yes, SHE is very vigorous."

She said, "HE is very handsome."

It was like I was being corrected and told that my dog is a boy, despite whatever I might believe. Olga is kind of butch-looking, but c'mon lady, don't you think I know my own dog's gender?!

As we were leaving the park, which is bisected by a railroad line, we crossed over the footbridge and I looked down onto the tracks. I was surprised to see a fox down there, plain as day, ambling around and sniffing. Probably not the safest place to amble, but foxes have quick reaction time, so I'm not too worried.

Louse and Sunflower

These days, when I walk the dog in the morning before work, it's still dark outside. We often pass this flat where there's a motion-activated light by the front door, which creates interesting shadows through the bars across the front porch. (This specific apartment is like Fort Knox, for some reason.)

And with that, here are some more miscellaneous pictures from my trusty iPhone.
 

I found this artwork propped against the rails in a stairwell at school. I guess someone didn't want their drawing of a giant...louse?

Domestic life on a weekend. Dave probably wouldn't be thrilled that I'm showing you a picture of him with his uncombed hair, in his pajama bottoms...but hey, this is our reality!

The trees on the next street over from our flat have gone yellow and autumnal. Once again, Olga poses patiently as I pray that no cats or squirrels wander past.

This poor sunflower got somewhat beaten down by Storm Alex a few weeks ago, but it was still pretty enough to be photo-worthy.

Olga is freaked out by the crazy face drawn onto this recycling bin. "We are cool kidz," it says. Guess someone put their kids in charge of bin-decorating.

In a recycling bin in St. John's Wood. Unfortunately the book had been rained on -- but fortunately I already have a copy. I figure if we get locked down again it might be a good reading project, as it's about 10,000 pages of tiny, tiny type.

A sign of the times.

And finally, so as not to end on a sour Covid note, how about...

...a weirdly hypnotizing GIF of elephants that I stole off the web?

It Had to Happen

After yesterday's post, you probably knew this was coming! Yes, this is the interior of the Victorian-era West End Lane Public Conveniences -- specifically, the men's room. I walked over there after work and found it open and accessible.

The historical listing mentions the red-and-black tile floor, as well as...

...the ornate ventilation grills...

...and the interior arched doorways. There also appears to be some kind of skylight, but it's been painted or covered over.

There's a bank of four or five full-length urinals which aren't in great shape. They were, however, made by...

...which seems pretty swanky.

There are three toilet cubicles with complete walls and green wooden doors, like three closets side by side. (Which I suppose is where the term "water closet" comes from.) Only one of them was open, and the toilet didn't look like an original fixture (although I am hardly an expert) so I'll spare you a photograph. Aren't you lucky?

Here's the women's room entrance, with its equally ornate metal railings.

So yes, here I am, touring Victorian restrooms so you don't have to. Never say I don't go to great lengths to provide a fascinating blog post!

Incidentally, some of you commented yesterday about my use of the term "restroom." I must admit, if I opt for a euphemistic phrase for a place to relieve oneself, that's the word I go for. Maybe it's an American thing. I realize there's no resting involved, although as Ellen pointed out, some facilities (particularly fancy women's rooms) do have adjacent lounges with a couch or other furniture.

I also use the term "bathroom," although I suppose that's more accurate when it's also a room for bathing. Like some British people I casually say "loo," which I think is a great word. There's also "toilet," but to me a toilet is more the fixture itself than the room in which it resides. And there's always the very European "water closet" or "WC" (which I invariably pronounce "vay say," in the French style, a lasting after-effect of my time in Morocco). So much terminology!

A Day of Unexpected Surprises

These are rather politely known as the "West End Lane Public Conveniences" -- in other words, restrooms -- and believe it or not, they're a historic landmark.  They're about a five-minute walk from our flat on the high street in West Hampstead. They date from the Victorian era and according to the historic listing, they "are attractive, with colourful tiled interiors and handsome railings at street level." They are also "notably intact, having surviving basins, doors, ventilation grills and signage and there has been no vandalism or neglect."

I have never been inside these restrooms -- in fact, I'm not sure they're consistently open to the public, given that there's a modern public toilet cubicle right behind them (you can kind of see it behind the tree). But the description sounds intriguing: "The interior walls are lined with cream glazed bricks with a red glazed brick course at dado height and the floors have black and red tiles laid in a chequerwork pattern. The ladies' WC has three cubicles, each with an original wooden door and an ornate metal ventilation grille above. Two original toilet bowls survive and one original lock. An arched opening opposite leads to the washbasins, also original. The space is ventilated through openings high in the walls with ornate metal grills. The gentlemen's lavatory was not inspected but is known to have the same tiled interior, cubicles and wash room section as the ladies', in addition to a row of urinals."

One of these days I'll try to see inside. I only discovered they were historic when I was photographing local monuments for Wikipedia, and they came up on the list. Who knew?!

Yesterday was super-busy, with all the kids wanting to swap out the books they'd read over October break. We had a ton of checkouts and a ton of returns, and in between I had to help repair the laminator, which one of the teachers jammed. We removed about a dozen screws before we could get the thing apart and finally retrieve a sheet of melted plastic, which had become accordioned inside the casing. It was a freakin' mess but it seems to be working again. As I told my boss, "Bet you didn't expect to spend half an hour on that today!"

When Dave and I got home we found that Olga had had an accident in the house, which never happens. It has literally been years. She evidently wasn't feeling well -- maybe drank too much pond water on the Heath! She seems fine now, but I spent another hour or so meticulously cleaning the carpet in the dining room. (We have acres of wooden floors, but she had to have her accident in the one carpeted room in the house.) I'm a little concerned about her new dog-walking schedule, because Kim comes about an hour and a half later than Francisco used to, but I really think in this case she was merely unwell.

Oh, and I checked with the supervisor of elections in Florida, and not only was my ballot received but it has been counted. So for me, voting is officially done. Whew!