Gladden

This flower is pleasantly known as a stinking iris. (The Latin name isn't much better -- Iris foetidissima.) We have quite a few in the garden, pre-dating our tenancy here. In fact we pulled a lot of them out because they re-seed like crazy, but we've kept some because they're good for shady places where not much else will grow. They're not exactly beautiful but they're interesting. Other names for them include gladden, gladwyn and the "roast-beef plant." When pulled up or crushed, they have a pungent meaty odor -- hence the smelly references -- but the plant doesn't smell at all when it's just growing or blooming, and they have pretty red seeds in autumn.

The weather has been chilly and damp. The rain stopped yesterday and it's sunny this morning, but morning temperatures are in the 50's (F) and the dahlias are still not looking very happy. Dahlias do not like wet, cold weather.

I had a much better workday yesterday. I think, as some of you suggested, that I'm just feeling worn out at the end of the school year. I have had lots of workplace changes this year but sometimes I tend to magnify the situation in my mind. I am so ready for summer! (June 14 is our last day, with students done on June 12.)

Our management company offered us a new lease on our flat, which we happily accepted. They're more on the ball this year -- in the past we've had to remind them that it was time for a renewal. We're getting a four percent rent increase, but given all that the landlords have done to this place in the past year or so, from the new bathtub to the hallway remodeling to repairing the roof on the garden shed, that seems reasonable. It's good to know we can stay put!

Scary Librarian

Dave is very proud of this hydrangea because it's blue. He always wants blue ones, and no matter what he does to the soil to adjust the acid, it seems like ours tend toward pink or white. I think it looks like a church lady's hat.

It's been a dispiriting week. I feel like I am running out of steam on the job front. A lot of things that I used to enjoy about this job have slowly slipped away -- choosing books to buy, for example. Our budget is so tight that we just don't have much money for books, and I am no longer free to make purchasing requests. I feel more disconnected from the books and literature. All I do is scold kids -- and I hate being that person.

Remember that group of 9th Grade boys (now 10th Grade) who have been driving me crazy for years? Well, now they're all into a game called "Brawl Stars," which they play on their phones in the library at break times and after school. They sit in big groups of ten or twelve and they get all excited and start yelling and shouting, and I try to let them have their fun but at the same time it makes me completely nuts. And I still have to ask kids every single day to put their food away and not eat crisps and cookies because we don't allow food in the library, and yet practically every evening there's some after-school event in the library that includes an entire buffet table of food that gets set up before we close, and I think, WHY am I enforcing this rule that magically goes away after 5 p.m.? I'm sure the kids see the contradiction in it too. I am just sick to death of all of it.

I feel like I'm too young to retire but at the same time I'm not sure how much more of this I can do. I don't want to be the scary librarian. And I think I already am.

Here's my temporary solution to our collapsed rose problem. Before I went to work yesterday I hoisted a chair up from the patio and propped the bush against it. (THAT was fun in the rain!) It's a very heavy chair so it's not going anywhere, and after I took this picture I tied the rose to the chair back. For the time being it should be stable even in wind. I ordered some stakes from Amazon and we'll stake the plant this weekend. Assuming it's not damaged at the base it should be fine. We'll prune it back after the blooming season ends.

A Fainting Rose

Here's a look at some of our blooming foxgloves. They're all very pale or even white, which is unusual in the foxglove world. I don't remember where I got the seeds, but they must have come from a pale hybrid that we bought at some point.

This one doesn't even have spots. (It does, however, have a little snail or slug sheltering in one of the blossoms.)

This is the darkest one so far. I still have another -- the one I rescued from the street -- that I'm sure will be of the wild variety when it blooms. So far it only has buds.

We've had rain all day yesterday and all night, and as a result we woke to some drama this morning. A large rose bush outside our back door has leaned over and appears to be in a state of slow collapse against the house:

I can't tell if it's simply leaning or if it's pulled out of the ground -- it has certainly never leaned this far in the past. We can barely get out the back door! We didn't prune it this year and maybe it's just too top-heavy. I think we can save it by trimming and then staking it, but when Dave saw it he said, "I wouldn't mind taking that f*cker out." So its fate is still unknown.

Why couldn't it be the hideous camellia that collapsed? You can see it in the background on the far left there, along with all the white and brown flowers it has dropped, now rotting on the ground.

OK, on to other news...

Remember how Dave signed me up for the Craft Gin Club a couple of years ago? Well, I got monthly shipments of exotic gin for a while, but I soon wound up with more gin than I could expeditiously drink -- because although I love gin I'm not that much of a lush. So I cut it back to every quarter, and now I get just four boxes a year.

The boxes typically contain bizarre snacks and little mixers as well as the gin. This time around I got something in a can called a "blueberry and blackberry martini," which didn't contain alcohol at all. Even before my recent gastritis flare-up I was cutting back on alcohol, and now I've really cut back, so last night I thought I'd try the fruit martini. I even put it in a martini glass, as suggested by the Gin Club. And it tasted...like fruit juice. Unremarkable, to say the least.

I have to issue a clarification regarding my grousing about Biden and the Democrats yesterday. I will absolutely, absolutely vote for Joe Biden. That is not even a question. My misgivings do not threaten my vote in any way. In fact I laughed out loud at a commenter on Bob's blog who said they'd vote for Richard Nixon if the Democrats ran him against Trump -- I said, "Me too!" And Nixon's not only a crook, he's dead.

(The common denominator with Nixon and Trump is Roger Stone, who is surely Satan incarnate.)

Finally, I'm starting to read "Little Women." Somehow I have made it all the way to age 57-and-a-half without reading this book. I see and hear so many cultural references to it that I think I need to finally do it, keeping in mind that Louisa May Alcott didn't write it for 57-and-a-half-year-old men and I may consequently find it a bit boring.

A Baby Bird, and Politics

Here's one of this year's new baby birds -- a starling -- demanding food from its harried parent.

FEED ME! FEED ME! FEED ME!

The funny thing is, the bird feeder is directly below these birds, hanging from that hook. You'd think if the chick could fly to the top and perch there, it could also fly to the feeder itself.

Well, I knuckled under last night and mowed the lawn. I had to rebel against the tyranny of "No-Mow May." As I said the other day, we're keeping about half the lawn unmowed, mostly in the back, so we're doing our part for the insects. But not mowing anything was just getting too out of control, and the slugs and snails were having a field day.

Also, Dave saw what he thought was a rat on the back patio, and we sure don't want that. So we need to beat back the wilderness a bit. (Maybe I need to welcome those cats I complained about yesterday?)

As you can see, there's still plenty of greenery out there. I set that lupine on top of a milk crate to try to keep the slugs away from it. It looks trashy, but hey, I'm from Florida.

(In fact, I found that very milk crate in Florida when I was about 13 years old. I was collecting beer cans with my brother in some woods near our house and it was abandoned there. I brought it home, cleaned it up and I've kept it ever since, through all my moves. For years it was my laundry hamper. Now it's a staircase for slugs!)

Did any of you see Ezra Klein's column in The New York Times about "why Biden is losing"? It's very provocative. The part I found most interesting, as a former newspaper journalist, was this:

In April, NBC News released a national poll breaking the race down by where respondents got their news. Biden led by 49 points among voters who relied on newspapers. He led by 20 points among voters relying on national network news. In the slightly archaic-sounding category of “digital websites,” Biden led by 10 points. If the election were limited to (these) voters... he would win in a landslide. 

But Biden is behind, and here’s why: Among voters who rely on social media, Trump led by four points. Among voters who rely on cable news, Trump led by eight. Voters who get their news from YouTube and Google favor Trump by 16 points. And voters who don’t follow political news at all favor Trump by 26 points.

It shows in stark terms that Trump's supporters tend to be less well-informed, or (to be generous) more distrustful of mainstream media and perhaps media in general. I'm not sure how people who don't follow political news at all could even bring themselves to vote. Perhaps those less-involved voters just won't come to the polls.

Nonetheless, it was a sobering column and one that Biden and his supporters should take seriously. I think the Democrats need a big shake-up before November. What it should be, I'm not sure -- but given the abhorrence of Trump there's no reason this race should be this close. It's an embarrassment, and one the Democrats must remedy.

That Darn Cat

It's ladybug (or ladybird) season again. We saw four of them on our buddleia yesterday, on a military patrol in their bright red uniforms. I guess there must have been some aphids around. More power to the ladybirds!

I was about as lazy as a person could be yesterday. I thought about going for a walk, taking some pictures, but ultimately the garden was so nice I couldn't bring myself to leave. I spent the day reading "Mr. Nobody," and I'm almost finished. I should be at the point of peak suspense, on page 320 of 344 pages, but instead I temporarily ran out of steam. It's an entertaining book but it seems less and less plausible as it goes along. I'll finish it off on my lunch break today.

This was my view from our back garden bench. It was an ideal day, with perfect temperatures. Our teasel forest is growing like mad!

Olga was certainly content to stay home. We walked around the neighborhood in the morning, but when I tried to take her to the cemetery in the afternoon we only got as far as the tree in front of the house before she turned around. She preferred her bed in the sun-dappled yard.

Toward the end of the afternoon I did manage to crank out some chores -- I vacuumed the house and dusted some areas where there was a visible film. I didn't manage to get to the bathrooms. A person can only do so much.

Around 4 a.m. this morning I woke temporarily and heard a cat loudly meowing. I thought it was in our garden -- the garden cam has captured three different cats passing through now and then -- and I don't want cats in our garden because they kill the birds. Particularly at this time of year, when nests and fledglings are vulnerable. So I put on my robe and went out in the garden to chase it away, but couldn't find a cat anywhere. Maybe it was actually in one of the neighbor's gardens. I swear I did not imagine it.

Yesterday morning we found some gray feathers in the grass where there had been an obvious skirmish, so something got eaten. Whether a cat or a fox or a hawk was the culprit, I'm not sure. I don't mind foxes and hawks, and I suppose I would mind cats less if I thought they needed their prey to survive. But they just kill out of instinct and then go home to their Fancy Feast -- pet cats, anyway.

Mr. Russia finished whatever he was doing at the side of the house yesterday. I didn't even look.

Boring Stuff but the Garden is Pretty

Here's the garden at the moment. The roses are blooming, as is the yellow peony, orange azalea and pink campion. The forget-me-nots have passed their peak, and the grass is deliberately shaggy because of "No-Mow May," which is supposed to help insects by allowing them to breed in the unmown grass. I'll mow the front section of the lawn come June, but the back we'll leave alone all summer.

The large leaves of the burdock -- which grew from seed from the plants we had a couple of years ago -- are perfect baskets for fallen azaleas and rose petals.

Here's an interesting discovery. We lost a couple of lupines a year or two ago, and I have long believed that our red Beefeater lupine died and the pink-and-white Rachel de Thame survived. This flower is showing me that I have it exactly backwards -- the Beefeater is the survivor. It would be nice if I could remember what plant is in what pot! Perhaps I should use labels like they do on "Gardener's World."

Yesterday I went out and bought some annuals -- petunias and trailing verbena -- and planted them in hanging baskets for the front porch and back patio. The foxgloves are starting to bloom too. My dahlias are still in a sorry state because of snails, slugs, birds and squirrels -- if we don't start getting some sunnier weather, keeping the snails and slugs at bay, I'm afraid some of them won't successfully sprout at all. As I've said, I'm letting nature take its course.

I also did laundry and read about a third of a novel called "Mr. Nobody" by Catherine Steadman. Dave got a membership to a sort of book club, a gift from a parent, and he doesn't really read for fun so I signed up for it. They choose and send a new book every now and then, based on my stated preferences. I asked for mystery thrillers, basically, and I would never have thought to buy "Mr. Nobody" but I'm enjoying it so far.

The Russians knocked on the door around lunchtime, wanting access to the alley at the side of the house (which is behind a locked gate leading to our garden). They had a new window installed on Friday and Mr. Russia wanted to paint around the frame. I opened the gate, figuring he'd be up on that ladder an hour or so. FOUR HOURS LATER he was still there, and he says he'll have to come back today. I think he's finding all sorts of flaws with the work and you know what a perfectionist he is.

I cut this gigantic rose from the garden. I think it's a Princess Margaret. It smells amazing!

Oh -- I forgot to tell you how inventory worked out in the Lower School library. I'm sure you're all on the edge of your seats! After I finished scanning everything on Friday, I went back to try to find the missing books, and I found several of them on the second pass. (Often they've slipped behind the others or they're super-skinny and I just didn't see them the first time.) Ultimately we wound up with 47 missing books, which isn't too terrible out of almost 18,000 -- and I suspect some of those will come back.

So inventory in both libraries is officially done until next spring.

Olga has found a way to simultaneously sit up and lie down. Skills!

Pac-Man and Other Randomness

When I walked to work the other day, I came across several old refrigerators piled in front of a building, waiting to be hauled away. One of them was adorned with these Pac-Man magnets. Who would throw away their Pac-Man magnets, no matter how faded and discolored they are? Now they adorn our refrigerator. (That's the old fridge above -- hence the grime.)

Someone bought some fancy olives. Perhaps they were trying to give them away, which is why they specified that they're still sealed. Even sealed, I'm not sure I'd take food off someone's garden wall -- and I love olives!

I might have taken this, if I had a kid and had any idea what it's for. I think it's just a useful soft-sided box, perhaps for toys? Or maybe a laundry hamper?

I was amused by this card, bearing a historic nickname for gin. Apparently it's a distillery in Walthamstow. In "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert," Terence Stamp, as Bernice, memorably requests a drink by saying: "Mother's Ruin pour moi!"

Is there such a thing as the Creativity Party? News to me. They need more creative advertising.

This is an anarchist sticker campaigning against the war in Ukraine (and war in general). In English it says, "Solidarity with deserters, saboteurs and war resisters!" More here.

This laburnum is beginning to bloom nicely on a housing estate in St. John's Wood. Mrs. Kravitz also has a laburnum that is looking good at the moment.

And finally...a discarded chair with a rather fierce-looking dog sticker, on Finchley Road.

Is the dog named Brams? Or maybe it's Bram's dog?