Musical Night Out

Last night I went with my ex-blogger friend Sally and her family to Cadogan Hall to see Seth Lakeman, a folk-rock singer from Southwest England. I'd never heard of him before this show, but Sally was enthusiastic about him and I trust her judgement. I knew she wouldn't inflict Justin Bieber on me!

Indeed, Seth was terrific -- he sings, plays guitar and fiddle and various other instruments and had a amazing backup band. His music seemed very heavily flavored by the wild, windy reaches of Devon and Cornwall -- but at times I felt like I could hear traces of Appalachia, too. Which I suppose makes sense, since settlers of Appalachian America came from the British Isles. Here is an old video of a song he performed again last night about the Penlee Lifeboat Disaster of 1981 -- which, as a clueless American unfamiliar with certain aspects of British history, I had to read up on afterwards.

Seth's opening act was Wildwood Kin, a trio of three young women who are excellent musicians in their own right.

Overall, it was a fun and educational evening!

Sally is great for widening my cultural circles. I also went with her to Sigur Rós a couple of years ago. I always tell her, "Thank goodness for you, because otherwise I'd never go hear any popular music!"

(Photo: The rail yards near Wormwood Scrubs, a couple of weeks ago.)

Billy Fury and Other News

-- Our local mural of Billy Fury got slammed with an ugly tag last week. (A couple of them, actually. The green one showed up after the blue and white one.) It looks like someone's already tried to clean it off, because at first we couldn't see his eye through the white paint. Hopefully the mural can be restored. It was successfully repaired after the golden eyes incident, but that was minor compared to this. I don't understand the wanton destruction, but for some graffiti writers, destruction is the name of the game.

-- Many questions were raised about whether the tree I posted yesterday is a mimosa (as I'd claimed) or an acacia. Turns out the question is one of nomenclature. It's a different species from the tree with pink flowers known as a mimosa in the United States, which admittedly was probably the type I dug up from my grandmother's yard. And it is a type of acacia -- Acacia dealbata, I think. But here, at least, that tree is commonly called a golden mimosa. We're all correct!

-- Yesterday an 8th grader asked me for a book recommendation. I gave him "Slaughterhouse Five." And then I spent all night worrying that it's too mature and complex for him. Which is probably true. I may try to suggest something else when I see him today. The risks and hazards of librarianship!

-- While walking Olga in the misty dampness of yesterday morning, I found these books stacked in a trash dumpster. Some of them were brand new and apparently unread! Initially I left them there, not wanting to lug them along while walking the dog. But when I walked to work about half an hour later I brought a plastic bag, collected them and took them with me. At lunchtime, I took them to the Oxfam charity bookshop. I do not understand why people throw things like this in the trash. As we have established, waste makes me crazy.

-- Yesterday, for International Women's Day, students put up a display featuring balloons bearing the names of historically significant women. These two balloons somehow wound up in the library lost-and-found bin. I took them back to the display, after subtly correcting the grievous misspelling of Eleanor Roosevelt's name!

Mimosa

I came across this mimosa tree on my walk to work yesterday morning. I've seen several of them in bloom around town, but this one may be the most vibrant.

When I was a young teenager, I went through a period when I was very into plants. Once, on a family trip to my grandmother's house in Maryland, I dug up a baby mimosa tree just an inch or two high. I think I took it from her yard, but I can't really remember. I put it in a pot and when we drove back to Florida, I brought it with us. It rode on the floor of the back seat, and I remember being very concerned about its well-being during the trip. When we got home to Florida, I planted it in the front yard. Of course, it promptly died.

So it goes, to quote Kurt Vonnegut.

I never got any takers on Freecycle for our free glass-topped coffee table. Instead I just got a bunch of people who pretended to be interested in order to fish for my e-mail address. Annoying! I'm going to list it one more time, and then it goes out with the trash. (Remember, it's not even really ours -- it belonged to the previous tenants of this flat.) Since I first listed it, I've cleaned it up, brought it indoors and taken a better picture. I also tried to buy the proper bolts to put it together, thinking that if it were assembled it would interest people more, but Homebase didn't carry them and I'm not going to invest a lot of effort in finding the right size just to give them away. At least I can advise whoever takes it (if anyone takes it) what size to get. I would think the tabletop alone would be worth something -- it's big and undamaged and it weighs a ton. We'll see!

Houses of Parliament

Yesterday I helped chaperone a group of 8th graders on a field trip to the Houses of Parliament. I'd never before been inside Westminster Palace, so I was excited about the opportunity, and it was very interesting to see in real life so much of what I've seen on television.

The tour guide gave us a history lesson as well as walking us through the building, so it wasn't just a matter of seeing the architecture but understanding the development and context of British democracy. For example, we heard all about the Magna Carta, Henry VIII, Elizabeth I, the Gunpowder Plot, the execution of King Charles I and the rise of Oliver Cromwell, and then his eventual execution and the ascendance of William and Mary. (Several hundred years are collapsed into that sentence.)

We also heard about all the elaborate traditions involved in the opening of parliament by the monarch -- like the messenger sent from the House of Lords to summon MPs. No monarch has entered the House of Commons since 1642, and to assert its superiority the door is traditionally slammed in the messenger's face. He has to knock three times before MPs will come to hear the monarch's opening address in the Lords. There's a visible dent in the door where the messenger always knocks with his staff.

You can't take photos in most places in Westminster Palace, so I didn't even bother bringing my big camera. I just took my iPhone. It looks about like you'd expect -- very ornate and gilded. The floors were quite elaborate!

Virtually the entire structure was destroyed in a fire in 1834, so most of what we see now as Westminster Palace really isn't that old. (Relatively speaking.)

We saw the House of Lords and the House of Commons, both smaller than they seem on television. We were not allowed to sit on the benches.

Afterwards, we took the students for a walk through Parliament Square (where we ate lunch -- I grabbed a sandwich and coffee from a nearby Cafe Nero) and then through St. James Park (above) and Green Park. Fortunately the weather cooperated, and the kids were very well-behaved so no disciplinary intervention was required on my part! (Another chaperone was with me as well.)

An interesting day and a nice break from the library!

Daffodil Time

They're everywhere at this time of year -- bright yellow daffodils. (Maybe some of them are jonquils. Is there a difference? I'm not sure.)

These were in Fortune Green, where I took Olga yesterday for a mud-splattered Kong-chasing session...

...and these were on Hampstead Heath, during our mud-splattered walk on Saturday...

...and these are in our own back garden.

At this time of year, when most things are wet and brown and muddy and dormant, it's hard not to love a daffodil.

We spent yesterday mostly inside. The forecast called for rain, but it turned out to be a bizarre mix of rain and sunshine that varied literally from minute to minute. As I mentioned, I did take the dog out, but that was the most exercise I got.

I finished "The Green Singers," one of the old books I bought a few weeks ago, and it was good! I'm not sure I'd call it "homoerotic" -- that would be overselling it, and after all it was published in 1958 -- but it definitely had gay overtones. My library colleague carefully covered it with plastic to preserve the dust jacket, and I'm happy to add it to my shelves.

We also watched some movies. In an effort to find something action-y that Dave would like, I chose "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom," which I'm sure I saw at some point in the '80s but didn't remember at all. Now I see why. What a dismal movie. One long, agonizing bout of screaming and stomach-churning chaos and juvenile gross-out gags. Truly, truly terrible.

Fashion Memo

I took Olga to the Heath yesterday, and while we were walking I found this glossy, wine-red leaf.

And then, not 10 minutes later...

...I spotted this woman, wearing a glossy coat of the exact same color.

I don't know why that impressed me, but it did. You know how Banana Republic used to have a "color of the season," and you'd walk in the store and find all the shirts and sweaters in variations of that color? Maybe this wine red is the color of the season! Make a note of it!

We had a great time on the Heath, as usual. Olga ran herself ragged and I slogged along beside her, though to be honest I was tired and I would much rather have been home on the couch. The Heath was wet and slick and muddy.

Dave, meanwhile, was working his magic in the garden, planting our teasels and one of the new hydrangeas, among other things. I will definitely supply photos when everything grows in and matures a bit.

I Skyped with my mom yesterday, and was happy to hear that she went to see "La La Land" with some people from her retirement community. They took a bus to the theater. "I love the bus!" she said, and I agreed -- not having to drive is one of my favorite things about living in a city. She thought the movie was just OK.

Speaking of Oscar-winning movies, Dave and I watched "Moonlight" last night. What an amazing film! Visually beautiful and so even and measured in its depiction of the challenging lives of its characters. I wish we'd seen it on a big screen, actually -- the cinematography is terrific.

Finally, Dave and I took our Ancestry DNA tests yesterday. I just assumed they would require a cheek swab, but instead they involve partially filling a plastic tube with saliva. (If that sounds disgusting, that's because it is, and I'm glad it's over.) The saliva is then combined with a chemical stabilizer and mailed away in a postage-paid box -- done, and done. Six weeks from now, spotlight on our ancestors!

Anatomically Correct Bench

The benches along the riverfront in Chelsea have elaborate sphinxes holding them up.

The last time I was down there, I found this:

Someone has a sense of humor!

I am reminded of Nigella Lawson, for some reason. Is that bad?

Speaking of celebrity chefs and food, I have an addendum regarding yesterday's post about the pomelo. When I first ate it, I cut it in half, sectioned it and sprinkled it with sugar, as I would a grapefruit. Well, when I ate the second half yesterday morning, I left off the sugar -- and it was much better. Still not my favorite fruit, but the sugar overwhelmed the subtle pomelo. Keep that in mind if you ever buy one!

Dave bought more plants (argh!) including some teasels, which I was happy about, since as I mentioned the other day I tried to seed some in the garden myself and they didn't seem to take. I'll enjoy watching them grow this summer, though for the life of me I have no idea where we're going to put them. Or the three hydrangeas and the crocosmia. I gotta keep that boy off the Internet!

(Actually, we're thinking about taking out the grass around the roses and planting there -- which would give us a huge flowerbed. So I shouldn't complain. We do, in fact, have a plan. Kind of.)