I Can See Clearly Now

This is as close as I got to the Royal Wedding -- a window display at the opticians' on the local high street. I didn't even watch it on TV, though Dave did. Honestly, I think it's a wonderful taboo-busting development for the royal family, and society at large, and I wish Harry and Meghan every happiness.

I was too busy with practical stuff yesterday. I did laundry because it was an amazing drying day -- perfect for hanging everything outside -- and in England, believe me, those days don't come all that often! (At least it seems so now, as we near the end of a wet and chilly spring,)

I also washed the windows at the back of the flat, looking onto the garden. I'm always so happy to get that job done! I still need to do the ones in the front, and they're actually harder to get to because of shrubbery.

And, best of all, the plumber came and stopped that infernal dripping in the linen closet. It wasn't a big job -- just a matter of tightening the pipe joint, really, though I think he put some anti-leak stuff on it too. Anyway it seems dry now, and he didn't charge much. It's going to take a few days for the closet itself to dry out. We've left it standing open.

Olga and I took a long walk through Cricklewood in the morning. I considered taking her to the Heath, but I want her to take it easy on that ligament for another week or so. And of course, her cut foot is still healing, too.

We haven't seen any more mice, alive or dead. I think (dare I say it?) that we got them all. I feel bad about it, especially because I think they're the same ones I've photographed on our garden peanut feeder. If only they'd stayed outside! I cleaned out part of the "hole" (the closet under the neighbor's stairs, which I think is the official Mouse Access Point) and braced a glass mirror flush against the wall gap where I think they were getting in. Maybe that will prevent any others from getting ideas about coming inside.

Marlin Perkins, Where Are You?

Remember our mouse situation? Well, for the longest time we didn't catch anything in our single trap. I'd locked up the dog food in a plastic bin and moved most of the nibblies out of the cupboards and onto the countertop, where we'd never seen any evidence of a mouse. I thought maybe, just maybe, I'd convinced them to go elsewhere, and bloodshed would not be necessary.

And then, Thursday morning, I found a gnawed-open bag of wild rice in the cabinet, and when I got down underneath the cupboards, behind the baseboards, I saw more evidence of mouse activity.

Time to pull out the big guns. So to speak.

I had Dave buy four more mousetraps -- the old-fashioned kind -- and I set them all. Within 24 hours we'd killed four mice in the kitchen, and we got another one this morning in the front hall closet. We put the bodies in the back of the garden, and they inevitably disappear overnight, probably taken by a cat or a fox. (They're not poisoned so they shouldn't harm a predator.)

Adding to my rodent excitement, some squirrels dug up four pots of zinnia and cosmos seedlings on Thursday morning. I repotted them, put flowerpot shards around them to discourage digging and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they won't die.

Why is the animal world against me? I grew up on Mutual of Omaha's "Wild Kingdom" and Ranger Rick nature magazines! I'm a member of the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds! I'm on YOUR SIDE, guys!

We've also had some more adventures in British plumbing. I spotted some damp spots on the hallway wall yesterday and opened our linen closet to a distinctly wet smell. When I looked around, I realized a pipe joint in the closet's back wall -- which feeds into our shower -- was leaking. A slow drip, drip, drip was coming from the joint, seeping into the plaster and running down the wall into the floor, where the unfinished floorboards were quite wet.

So we called our managing agent's emergency maintenance number and got no answer at all. I sent them an e-mail with pictures of the situation, and we called our own plumber to come today and solve the problem. Meanwhile, I've jerry-rigged a drip-collection system so no more water can seep into the wall, and I've poured three pitchers of drippage down the sink so far. I'm hoping we can deduct this plumber's fee from our rent. This really isn't something we should have to repair, but it also isn't something I want to leave until Monday (at the earliest).

Finally, I bought some hydrogen peroxide to treat Olga's paw. She doesn't seem to mind the treatment and it makes me feel better knowing it's getting disinfected, though whether it has much practical effect I have no idea. I was amused by a warning on the peroxide bottle: "Do not give to children under 12 years old as a mouthwash, unless your doctor tells you to."

Does anyone use hydrogen peroxide as a mouthwash? Is that something a doctor would recommend?

(Photo: A quiet, mouse-free corner of our entrance hall, earlier this week.)

Rage Lawyer

When I got up to walk the dog yesterday morning, it was 43º F! Which is cold for this time of year. I think it may be slightly warmer today.

So where do you stand on the great Laurel/Yanny controversy? I finally had a chance to listen to the clip yesterday, and I fall squarely into the Laurel camp. In fact, I am so firmly on Team Laurel that I didn't understand how anyone could hear Yanny -- until I played around with the slider the New York Times developed to detect people's tipping point between the two. When the slider is about two notches from the far right side, I begin to hear Yanny. Dave is Team Laurel too.

Jennifer of Sparrow Tree Journal wrote a post the other day in which she discussed being unreasonably cranky. I confess I've been feeling cranky too. I told her -- and I firmly believe -- it's got to do with the end of the school year. There's just a lot to do at this time of year, and those of us who work in education are all pouring on the fuel and we're tired.

I've been feeling guilty about it, but then I watched the video clips of Rage Lawyer. Have you seen this guy -- the Manhattan attorney who launched into a tirade against restaurant workers for daring to speak Spanish? Who threatened to have them all deported? Who berates total strangers for walking on the wrong side of the sidewalk and who, not surprisingly, has appeared on video yelling and insulting people at several pro-Trump events?

He is a real gem, let me tell you. In terms of crankiness, I couldn't hold a candle to him.

I read that article and watched the associated videos yesterday, and my first thought was, "Who raised this guy?" Not to blame his behavior on anyone else, but I seriously wonder what kind of environment could produce someone so unabashedly confrontational. And paradoxically, he apparently studied abroad and speaks fluent Spanish himself! Does he not see the contradictions? Is he mentally ill?

Unfortunately, our current political climate is partly to blame. This is the kind of misdirected rage that Trump's America (and Brexit's Britain) encourages people to release. They feel justified and entitled to their malignant racism and xenophobia.

I feel more respect for the woman who relieved herself on the floor of a Tim Horton's restaurant and then threw it at the employees. At least she apparently just wanted to use the bathroom.

Seriously: Anger management, people!

(Photo: Dave and I laughed at this weathered old sweater languishing atop a bus shelter in Camden. I meant to include this picture in yesterday's iPhone gallery but I forgot!)

Reflections with Dog, and Other iPhone Photos

Since I have nothing to write about except library inventory, here are some more iPhone photos! First, Olga and I were window-shopping at Roche Bobois (a swanky French furniture store) on Finchley Road yesterday morning. Can you see us? It's a little like "Where's Waldo?"

This is why no one should leave unattended bags of donated stuff sitting outside charity shops.

Dave has been making noise about wanting a La-Z-Boy. The other day I walked past these chairs, set out for the trash collectors, and sent him the photo, saying, "Look! Now we don't have to buy one!"

Some creepy graffiti I found on one of my walks.

Speaking of walks, I accidentally wore my dog-walking (and LOOP-walking) shoes to work the other day. About halfway there I looked down and realized they were on my feet, and I was like, "Nope. Not going back home." They were originally black. As you can see, they now have quite a patina.

Last spring there was a massive renovation project at this house, and I wondered about the fate of this bright red peony in the border of the driveway. Trucks and vans and construction materials were practically piled on top of it. But this spring, with the house finished and the workers gone, it came up again, completely unaffected.

I found a plant with huge leaves at the cemetery. (That's my size 10 1/2 EEE foot for comparison.) I think it might be burdock?

Let's be artistic with a Waterlogue version...

And finally, at the risk of overdoing the self-portrait-with-dog theme, another shot from Finchley Road yesterday. I really should be more conscientious about my facial expressions, but the sun was in my eyes. Yeah...that's my excuse.

Grass Eating on Wobbly Wheels

Here's another picture from my trip down to Westminster last week. Anyplace there are tourists, there are bound to be love locks like the ones above. Remember that bridge in Paris that was so burdened with locks that part of it collapsed, and the rest had to be removed? On Westminster Bridge there's not really any place to attach a lock -- the railings are stone -- so structures like this little metal gate off to the side appear to bear the lock burden.

We've had more Olga drama. Her back leg seemed so much better on Sunday that Dave and I put her back on her dog walkers' schedule, and then we took her out ourselves to the cemetery. She had a great time grazing on the long grass:

 

Olga loves her salad.

And then, somehow, she cut her front paw open! She chased a squirrel into the woods, and I think that's when it happened, because suddenly she got kind of mopey. I thought she just didn't want to go home -- and then we got back to the house and Dave noticed that her front foot was bleeding. I couldn't believe it! I thought, "What ELSE could possibly happen?!" (Never a question to ask.)

We debated taking her to the vet, but the bleeding stopped and she was walking around on it OK. Besides, I was afraid the vet would think Dave or I had a canine version of Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. So we stuck with our original plan, and she's been out with the dog-walkers this week and seems fine despite her two wobbly wheels.

As for me, it's a busy time of year for recovering library materials. We're also still working on inventory, in which we scan every item in the library to detect any that may be missing. I generally really like inventory -- it's kind of geeky and I can let my mind wander -- but I worked on DVDs yesterday, and they're probably my least favorite items to scan. I have to open almost every DVD case because the bar codes are often on the inside, or on the discs themselves. It's very fiddly work.

The garden is doing well -- all except the wildflower corner, which I believe is a complete bust. Not a thing has grown there. I'm not sure what went wrong, but I think we're going to give up and plant something else. I laughed at one of my commenters on Monday who noted that my garden is "full of tension" and that rather than grousing about slugs and black spot I should just let nature take its course. Believe it or not, I am the relaxed member of our household gardening team. Dave is the one who insists that gardening is all about control!

Advertisements, 1942

Remember how I mentioned those old Newsweek magazines we have in the school library? The ones we considered donating to an archive but instead decided to keep?

Well, I recently put them on a cart and rolled them into the main library so students could use them in a social studies project. I browsed through them to check out some of the old advertisements. Here's an assortment from October, 1942.

There are a lot of ads for wartime industrial production and materials, like these ball bearings. (I liked the dog.)

Vimm's Vitamins look like they'd pep you up! I wonder if they contained speed? What on earth is "Vitamin P-P"?

Blackie and Whitey are still "carrying on," selling Scotch which (according to the ad) had been distilled in Scotland before the war and exported  "in reasonable quantities." Whatever that means.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Parker is fighting "the Japs" with her Revere-Ware pots. Apparently by using them through the war effort, she's allowing Revere to convert its copper and steel production toward wartime purposes.

Here's an ad for good old Jacksonville, Florida, where my brother and mom now live. Apparently commerce authorities in Jacksonville thought it could manage three times as much war industry as it had, so they were advertising its availability to alleviate manufacturing bottlenecks.

And finally, a somber advertisement for Dixie Cups, touting their sanitary advantages in battling wartime disease. This was less than three decades after the disastrous Spanish Flu epidemic of 1917. Scary!

Goings-On in the Garden

I spent all day yesterday at home, so -- time for another garden update! The geraniums have appeared, looking great as usual.

Our first rose has also appeared -- a bright orange one. (Unfortunately, our first touches of black spot have also appeared, as you can see on that leaf to the right of the flower. It won't hurt the plants but it makes them look somewhat grim by the end of the summer. I could fight it with anti-fungal spray but I don't want to spray that stuff if I can help it.)

The Solomon's seal looks AMAZING this year!

Our lily-of-the-vally is also blooming. These plants have never done as well as Dave predicted -- I don't know why. They hold their own, but they're not spreading as he thought they would.

Although not strictly in the garden, our amaryllis finally, finally are blooming -- later than ever this year. The plants and flowers look really good. I did use the anti-fungal on them last year, as I've mentioned before, to eliminate red blotch, and I think it helped. (Since they're indoor potted plants and not out in the environment, it wasn't a danger to critters.)

That sage that was gnawed nearly to death by slugs has re-emerged, now that it's in a pot on the patio table.

My seedlings. See how floppy some of them are? I think I left them too long in seed trays where they weren't getting enough sun, and they got too leggy. I don't know whether they're going to self-correct or not. I've tried propping them up on toothpicks until they can strengthen but it's such fiddly work that I'm tempted to let nature take its course.

That pot on the right contains poppy seedlings, I think -- I should thin them out, but so far I've let nature take its course there too. I am just not good with seeds.

Our horseradish is a shadow of its former self. I weeded the violets from the pot to give it more light, and soon the daffodils will die back too. Maybe it will recover, or maybe it's time to pull all that stuff out of that pot and start fresh with something new. Ask again in October!