The Weather Warms

This was the sky yesterday morning as I prepared to go to work. It was still cold -- about 22º F (or -5.6º C) -- but you can see a thin layer of clouds beginning to drift past the moon. Those clouds built up over the next few hours until we had snow right around lunchtime.

Fortunately, as the clouds increased, it got warmer, so "Operation Guacamole" began to wind down. When I went to work I reluctantly left the heater running inside the avocado's shroud, because of the extreme chill, and all morning I had visions of the house burning down in my absence. But I came home at lunch and disconnected all the electrics, wound up the extension cord, and left the avocado covered but without supplemental heat. The snowfall was minor -- maybe half a centimeter -- and melted quickly, and it didn't freeze last night. I think we've passed the critical period. All the low temperatures in the coming week are in the 30s, though some hover right around freezing. With more snow possible, I'll leave the shroud on the tree.

Blogger Meike made an interesting observation in the comments yesterday -- that my attention to the avocado might be "a bit of an Olga replacement, caring for a tree like you did for your dog." There may indeed be some transference going on there, but I also think, as Ms. Moon said, protecting the tree simply became a challenge for me. I enjoyed trying to figure it out.

Remember the envelope of photo negatives I retrieved from my stepmother's house -- the ones labeled "Stephen's pictures"? Well, I got them scanned, and here are some of the results. That's my stepbrother, above, in the living room of the apartment where he lived before his mom married my dad. It would have been 1975 or so. I see Phoebe Snow's first album leaning up against the record cabinet, and that came out in 1974, which helps date the picture. And of course Jim is giving us "Fonz" thumbs, so we know it's from the era of "Happy Days."

Here's my stepmother's mother and grandmother, whose family nickname I cannot for the life of me figure out how to spell. It's pronounced like "yeah," the informal word for yes, but repeated twice with Ms replacing the letter Y. So "Meahmeah," or something close to that. That's my stepsister on the floor to the right.

Here's the real mystery -- my stepsister on the beach with some man who none of us can identify. Even my stepmother said she doesn't know who he is. As my stepbrother said, "It was the '70s, when rando hairy guys in Speedos could jump into any picture."

Anyway, although they are labeled "Stephen's pictures," I'm certain I didn't take that last one, and I doubt I took any of them. Maybe my stepmother just assumed they were mine because the negative format matched my camera. But they are from right around the time when I first met my step-family, and I visited the apartments in both of those first two pictures.

Remember how I pledged to do "Dry January"? Well, between running "Operation Guacamole" and having a very busy day at work, I was in sore need of a glass of red wine last night. Let's call it "Slightly Damp January."

Crystal Blue Skies and Aging Celebrities

Here's how it looked on the St. John's Wood High Street yesterday around lunchtime, when I went to Snappy Snaps to drop off some negatives to be scanned. I was captivated by all that bright reflected light on the pavement. Our skies have been crystal clear for several days, which is why it's been so cold -- no insulating layer of cloud cover. That's supposed to change today, when we enter a period of cloudiness, rain and possible snow.

The sun has been wonderful, even though it's hardly been sunbathing weather.

These cranes are part of the St. John's Wood Square development, which is going up behind these buildings. I've mentioned it before here and here -- it's on the site of an old military barracks and stable, which have been torn down.

The negatives I'm having scanned are from an envelope I found at my stepmother's labeled "Stephen's pictures." I don't remember taking them but they match the film format of my old camera, so they could be mine. They appear to be pictures taken at my stepmother's old apartment in Tampa, where she lived when she met and married my father -- probably from 1975 or early '76.

With these clear skies and low temperatures, my domestic engineering campaign known as "Operation Guacamole" has been underway at full capacity. It's 22º F out there right now (-5.5º C) and has been for several hours -- and will be for several more. This is a killing freeze. But the chicken-coop heater is chugging away inside the avocado's shroud, given an extra boost by the halogen lamp, and the temperature inside the wrapping is allegedly somewhere 50º F and 66º  F, at least according to the readout on the heater. I'm skeptical of the accuracy of that readout, and I'm sure it's much colder in the farther reaches of the shroud, but at least it's not freezing in there.

The next step is preparing for snow. Last night I taped panels of bubble wrap between the layers of the shroud over the parts of the tree where snow is likely to settle. This is just an extra step to prevent snow from contacting the leaves. On the highest parts of the tree I had to tape the panels on the outside, and even then it was quite a clumsy job because even standing on a chair I can't reach the top of the avocado. But I did my best.

At night it glows, illuminating the living room. It's not unpleasant -- kind of like a weird garden sculpture. By the time precipitation comes the air temperature should be above freezing, so I'll disconnect and remove all the electrics for safety.

Honestly. I am insane.

On another topic: Five years ago today, I did a post called "Who's Still Alive?" in which I discussed aging show-business figures. I named 17 of the oldest I could come up with. In the five years since, all those people have died except four: Eva Marie Saint, who is now 101; Dick Van Dyke, who is 100; Mel Brooks, who is 99; and the relatively youthful Tina Louise, who is 91. (Tina was included mainly for humor's sake, because I posted about her early in my blogging career and that post got a lot of hits. I pledged to mention Tina Louise every day, and for a few days thereafter I did!)

Ravenous Squirrels and a Toasty Tree

This photo may not be very clear. What I'm trying to show is two different squirrels simultaneously hanging upside down from two different bird feeders, one to the right in the sun and one to the left in the shade, way back by the garden shed. Believe it or not, we do also successfully feed birds, but our squirrels are ravenous.

Here are some close-ups:

Little monsters!

I know the question on the tip of all your tongues, though, is did my chicken-coop warmer arrive? Is the avocado tree still struggling in the icy grip of winter or is it toasty and tropical in its fabric shroud?

I am happy to report that the warmer is indeed here and seems to be functioning well. It arrived in a box marked entirely with Chinese characters, thus betraying its origins, but fortunately the directions inside were in English. There really aren't many directions. Plug in, turn on.

Here it is hanging from the tree, inside the shroud. It's basically just a miniature fan and a heating coil. Although this angle makes it look like the heater is nestled among the leaves, it's actually hanging about a foot below them. It emits a gentle heat -- the coil never glows. When I tested it yesterday evening, the temperature inside the shroud rose to about 20 degrees warmer than the outside air.

So I'd call that a success, as long as it doesn't burn the house down. (I'll unplug it before we go to work. I think the tree can survive with no extra heat through the day, when the exterior temperatures will creep above freezing.)

What a production, right?

Otherwise, yesterday was uneventful. I stayed inside and read about the Lusitania, and read blogs, and scanned some family photos that I retrieved from my stepmother's house. Here I am lighting birthday candles:

There are nine candles on that cake, but I look older than nine in the picture, don't I? Maybe it's not my cake. Why would I be lighting my own birthday candles? If the cake belonged to my younger brother or sister, I'd be 12, which seems more likely -- in fact I'm not sure construction on that house had even been finished by my ninth birthday. I do remember that shirt -- I think it was a hand-me-down from my stepbrother but I liked it, presaging my adult enthusiasm for shirts with colorful prints.

And now, winter break has come to an end. Off to work!

Icicles

These icicles have formed right outside the living room window, on the duct tape I'm using to brace the wrapped avocado tree against wind. So any illusions we have about it being warmer on the patio are just that -- illusions. It's freezing out there! (It was 27º F when I checked this morning at about 5 a.m. -- roughly -3º C.)

Remember my plan to put a chicken-coop warmer inside the avocado's shroud? Although Amazon told me when I ordered it that I'd have it by yesterday, it has not arrived yet. It's supposed to come today. We'll see. Meanwhile, I went up to the hardware store on the high street and bought a halogen bulb for a spare desk lamp we've had stashed in the closet under the stairs ever since we moved in. I put that lamp as well as my bedside lamp inside the shroud, so at least there's a small source of heat, though it's not much. I think both bulbs together are about 70 watts.

It looks a bit weird and ghostly, doesn't it? The foxes have already peed on the edge of the shroud, thus making peace with it and marking it as their territory.

No one can say I haven't gone to heroic lengths to save this tree. I'm not even sure it's necessary. For all I know, the avocado could withstand temperatures this low. I know there are avocados elsewhere in London that don't get all this coddling. I think the real test will be the snow coming later this week. Hopefully by then the coop warmer will be in place.

OK, I hear you: "ENOUGH ABOUT THE AVOCADO!"

But what else do I have to blog about? Honestly, all I did yesterday was finish "Tramps Like Us" and start another book, Erik Larson's nonfiction account of the sinking of the Lusitania, which I've been meaning to read for ages.

I'm not thrilled to see the U.S. waging war on the government of Venezuela. It brings back memories of Manuel Noriega in Panama, who I've mentioned here before. The Venezuela situation seems very similar, with allegations of narco-trafficking being used to justify the overthrow of a Latin American government. (With the added incentive of Venezuela's oil.) But as The New York Times points out, Noriega was defiant, whereas Maduro at least offered cooperation. Doesn't matter -- we kicked him out anyway.

I suppose we can hardly take the high ground on Ukraine now. How are we any different from Russia, invading a neighboring nation for dubious reasons of our own invention? Granted, Maduro is a dictator and dubiously elected, but Russia said the same about the Ukrainian government. Why is it our role to police Venezuela, especially when most of the illegal drugs being trafficked to the USA are coming through other countries?

The Shroud

Some of you asked yesterday why we don't keep the heat on just a smidge while we travel, so the flat doesn't get too cold. Usually the upstairs neighbors are home and their heat moderates the chill, and it's never so cold here that we have to worry about freezing pipes. I'm not sure the neighbors were home while we were most recently in Florida. In fact, I'm not sure they're home now. (They're so quiet!)

Sometimes, when we're away in the dead of winter, we put the heat on for an hour or so at night just to boost the temperature a bit. I didn't do it in this case because I looked at the weather report before we left, and at that time no freezing temperatures were expected. Where this polar vortex from hell came from I'm not sure.

(I suppose if it came from hell it would be warm, but never mind.)

The avocado is snugly wrapped (right), as is Barb the banana. I have two layers on the avocado, plus some duct tape to brace it against the wind. Last night only barely got to freezing, but it's supposed to get significantly colder today, all the way down to 23º F (that's -5º C) on Monday night/Tuesday morning. That's chillier than the poor avocado has ever endured. I got on Amazon last night and bought a little heater designed for chicken coops -- it arrives today and I'm going to hang it inside that shroud and turn the whole thing into a mini-greenhouse. It has a thermostat so it won't get too warm and since it's designed to work in a chicken coop it should be safe. Even if I just run it while we're home and awake, it should leave enough residual warmth inside that enclosure to keep the tree from freezing. I think.

My stepmother is still in the hospital but she is scheduled to come home within the next few days. She will have another surgery to remove the mass in her bladder at some point fairly soon. My stepsister is sending us all regular updates.

So, do I have any New Year's resolutions? Not really. The closest I've come to resolving anything is that I have decided to do Dry January. I have felt for a long time that my evening habit of a glass of wine or two is probably not doing my liver any favors, and like many people I drank more than usual over the holiday season. So why not give my system a rest for the next month or so? Cleanse my toxins, or something like that.

I'm also hoping to read more. I took a look at my book list yesterday and found that I read 27 books last year. Granted, some of them were long and took some time ("The Old Curiosity Shop," for example), but I'd like to get through more. (And perhaps even resume reading my New Yorkers!) Blogger Kelly recently mentioned that she read 106 books last year! I'm not sure I'll be that industrious, but we'll see. Being retired will help.

I'm really enjoying "Tramps Like Us," which I mentioned the other day. Remember how I said it reminds me of my youth? Yeah, I take that back. Joe Westmoreland and/or his character Joe (it's semi-autobiographical) lived a much wilder life than I ever did, shooting heroin with his friends and visiting gay bathhouses. But it's a compelling and poignant account of a halcyon time in gay history, when the sex was free and easy, before the world came crashing down in the early '80s. I'm now up to the crashing-down part and people are starting to die. Every party comes to an end.

(Top photo: Trees near the Tate Britain museum, last month.)

Home Sweet Home

My body has no idea what time it is. It's completely confused. I slept all night last night -- in fact I went to bed at about 10 p.m. and was unconscious until 8 a.m. this morning, so it was a long, thorough sleep. Hopefully that will help get me back on track.

I spent yesterday putting the house in order in minor ways. This place was like a meat locker when we walked in, because of course we'd turned off the heat during our absence. It took a full day of running the boiler to get the flat up to a livable temperature. Now we've put the heater back on its regular timer and things are more comfortable.

Out in the garden there's clumpy frost stuck to everything. I brought in the geraniums last night and I'll get the mandarin orange tree in today, as well as covering the avocado. I swear that avocado is taller than it was when we left. Is it continuing to grow in December's wintry chill?

The hellebores are fine with the cold...

...as are the daffodils, already sending up buds.

The snowdrops (foreground) are just starting to appear, and the snowflakes (Leucojum) have already come up tall and green, even though they bloom after the snowdrops.

 As for the indoor plants, I watered everything yesterday and it looks like they all survived our absence just fine -- even the recovering maidenhair fern.

I can't believe we have to go back to work on Monday. It's surreal to think about.

Happy New Year!

When Dave and I emerged from Gatwick Airport this morning, bleary-eyed from our overnight flight, we made our way to the train station for the journey into the city. This was the scene that greeted us as we waited on the platform.

"Here we are, back in gloomy London," Dave quipped.

The sun seems measurably weaker here, and the air is certainly colder. As we were coming in for a landing, all the farmland surrounding the airport looked gray-green with a coating of frost. I feared for the avocado, but it seems to have done just fine in our absence. We will cover it tomorrow to protect it from the approaching "snow bomb."

I took this picture out the window of our jet as we came in over the English coastline. I believe that's the Isle of Wight directly below the plane, and I was intrigued by the clear line of clouds out on the horizon. They look like a gigantic cliff face, don't they? A falaise, as the French call it -- one of my favorite French words. In fact, I think I was seeing from the air the same phenomenon I saw Tuesday in Florida from the ground -- the sharp edge of a weather front.

Our flight was smooth and I did sleep a bit, though I'm exhausted today. I'm glad to be back on our couch, sipping a cup of Cafe Naviera, a Cuban-style coffee with chicory that I usually buy at Publix when I go to Tampa. It's a little bit of sunny Florida, here in the frozen north!

We thought flying on New Year's Eve might prove an interesting experience. Would there be champagne? Party hats? Would there be an announcement when the midnight hour struck, and in which time zone?

In fact, the flight was like any other. I was kind of surprised, actually. I didn't expect sparklers but I thought there'd be something. The pilot may have wished us a Happy New Year when he made his remarks, but that was pretty much it. I did notice while taking off in the darkness over Tampa that fireworks were going off here and there beneath us -- blooming like little chrysanthemums over the city lights. From the air, fireworks look minuscule.

I spent most of the flight reading "Tramps Like Us," a 25-year-old novel by Joe Westmoreland about coming of age as a gay man in the late '70s and early '80s. It was recently republished and I'm enjoying it a lot. It's very readable and reminds me of my own youth, though Westmoreland's semi-autobiographical character had a much wilder life than I ever did!