Leatherhead

Yesterday was kind of strange and depressing. Dave and I went to the funeral for our friend Chris, who with his wife Linda were our neighbors at our previous flat in Notting Hill. We often socialized with them and although Chris had been in poor health for the last few years we were sorry to hear that he died in mid-December.

They live down in Epsom, southwest of London in Surrey -- their Notting Hill flat is more of a pied-a-terre -- and the funeral was in nearby Leatherhead. Dave and I wore our suits to work in the morning and left at noon to make the journey southward.

I don't think I'd been to a funeral for about ten years. The last one I remember attending was for the parent of one of Dave's co-workers in New Jersey, in early 2011. And it had also been quite a while since I'd worn my suit for any reason. I was happy to see it still fit me (not bad for a suit purchased 23 years ago!) but truth be told it is a bit tighter around the waist these days.

Anyway, we got to Leatherhead early by design, and went for a walk in town. We found a little cafe opposite the office building above -- which looks very old but was in reality built about 100 years ago, at least according to the date on the exterior -- and ordered coffee. Dave decided to get a piece of apple pie.

The waiter asked if he wanted ice cream or custard with his pie. "Custard," Dave said.

This is what he got. "Is the pie in there?" Dave asked the waiter, who assured him it was. And indeed he excavated in the lake-o-custard and found a bit of crust, as you can see above. We've never seen pie served quite like that but it was pretty good! (I wonder what would have happened if he'd chosen ice cream?)

The illuminated coils inside some of the cafe's light bulbs spelled out "Love." That's an effect I don't think I've ever seen before. (I made the picture black-and-white to make it more legible.)

Finally we caught an Uber to the crematorium just outside town for the half-hour service. Some of Chris's friends wrote remembrances of his love of red wine and photography, his willingness to talk to anybody, his disdain for politicians and puffery of any kind. He had been a journalist, so he and I had that in common. Some poems were read, including an excellent one by Maya Angelou, but also some all-purpose funereal doggerel that I feel certain Chris would have scoffed at. Afterwards we chatted with Linda for a bit and then began the journey home.

Inside a chapel at the crematorium

Here's one drawback to my wearing a suit: I don't have an overcoat to go with it. Consequently by the time we got home yesterday evening I was chilled to the bone. I should have just worn a sweater underneath the jacket but I didn't think of it. Fortunately some time under a blanket on the couch with the dog, a book and a glass of red wine set me right.

Pigs, Geese and Designer Couture

Yesterday was, if possible, even busier than Monday. Remember those hundreds of science books we put on carts and took upstairs to the science department in December? Well, yesterday I had to bring them all back to the library -- and the school's elevator wasn't working. Which meant several trips up and down carrying armloads of books, and then my boss and I carried the carts downstairs by hand. Ugh!

And then I had to re-shelve everything.

So, anyway, I'm telling you all that to explain my absence as a reader from blogland. That's also why you're getting another batch of random iPhone photos today, stored up over the past couple of weeks -- a quick post with evergreen material, because I have to be back at work early. Enjoy!

First, the sun making some dramatic shadows at the North Greenwich tube and bus station, last Thursday (above).

I came across these in a shop. I've heard of "pigs in blankets," but never ON them.

This dollhouse, set out on the street for the taking, looks like it's been through some type of natural disaster.

I wonder if this means, "Does anyone else feel anything?" Or, "Does anyone else feel LIKE sh*t?"

Outside the Baker Street tube station, these special holiday lights decorated the lampposts. According to the Baker Street Quarter Partnership, they're geese decorated with blue jewels, inspired by the Sherlock Holmes story "The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle." (The fictional Holmes lived and worked on Baker Street in Arthur Conan Doyle's stories.) I haven't read that story but now I'm curious.

This was the doorstep of the pub where I bought my potato chips (or crisps, as Mr. Pudding insists) during my recent walk through Plumstead. I love the old tile work, although this threshold is relatively simple compared to some.

By the way, it's very common in England to see single words or short phrases written with a period. I have no idea why. (Mr. P, can your English teacher background help on that question?)

This discarded wardrobe appeared on my walk to work. It was in rough shape, despite its gauzy curtains.

And speaking of clothing, here's something from our library lost & found -- a Chanel jacket! I think if I'd lost that I'd be in a panic!

Finally, a colorful sticker near the St. John's Wood tube stop. It reminds me of the Grateful Dead's "skull and roses" album, though I'm not sure that's really the reference.

Busy, Busy

I should have anticipated yesterday would be busy, but it wound up being even busier than I expected. Lots of classes coming in for new reading material and lots of books coming back after the break. I took a 15-minute lunch and otherwise it was go, go, go!

Consequently I have nothing much to say, because you don't want to hear about how many books I re-shelved. Trust me, it was a lot.

As Dave and I anticipated, there are quite a few people out for Covid-related illness, both students and staff. Either they tested positive and they're isolating or they're actively sick, though I haven't heard of anyone being seriously ill, knock on wood.

I found this very '60s-looking glass tray on the way home, sitting on a garden wall on Finchley Road next to a rubbish pile. How fantastic is that? I'm hesitant to even show it to you given my recent purchase of the zebra with a crown; I don't want you to think I have absolutely no taste. But of course I'm keeping it.

(Top photo: Croydon, a couple of weeks ago.)

Olga Outsmarted

My only excitement yesterday was taking Olga for an afternoon walk through the neighborhood. It was sunny for a change, and as we approached the courtyard door where she usually spars with the cats I began making a video. She's been doing this for years and neither she nor the cats are as enthusiastic as they used to be.

This time, the most aggressive cat -- a calico named April -- didn't show up. Instead this whitish Siamese outwitted Olga by staying entirely out of reach, while still watching everything. Olga didn't even notice.

Otherwise, it was another day of mostly reading. I'm on my final Newbery book, "The Story of Mankind." It won the very first Newbery medal way back in 1922 -- yes, I saved the first for last -- and it's exactly what it sounds like, a nonfiction account of the development of civilization. It's 662 pages, complete with two updates that bring us to the year 2000, including the Internet, Bill Clinton and Princess Diana. It might sound dreadful, but it was written for children and the writing is light and even amusing (or as amusing as you can be when talking about Ancient Greek city-states), and there are little cartoon illustrations. So far it's been an OK read. I might do some skimming!

Dave and I are both headed back to work today. It will be interesting to see how many people are out for Covid-related absences. I know of three people who tested positive within the past week. We took our lateral flow tests last night and we're both still negative, knock on wood. As I've told Dave, I feel like it's almost inevitable that we'll turn up positive at some point, working in the cauldron of plague that is a school.

Red Skies at Night

Well, it's about 6:45 a.m. as I write this, and already it's been a peculiar morning. Olga was wiggling and squirming and thumping her tail on the mattress, eager to get up, so I took her to the back door thinking she might need to go outside. Well, she did, but mainly to charge the fox(es) that she evidently heard in the garden. I opened the door and she flew to the back fence, barking all the way and thrashing around in the shrubbery.

While she was doing that, I looked up in the sky and saw a bright red light to the south, over Mrs. Kravitz's garden. I thought, "What on Earth is that?" It was obviously artificial and it wasn't moving, and it seemed too high in the air to be attached to the construction cranes down by the Thameslink station. I even made Dave come outside and look at it. (His response was basically a shrug.)

Within the next few minutes, as the sun began to rise, I could see that the light was indeed attached to a crane and we were not being invaded by hostile aliens. (That would have ruined my last day of winter break!) You can sort of see the crane behind the bare tree in the photo. I'm curious about where it is -- I'll have to check it out later today. If it's way down by the train tracks that is a huge crane.

Yesterday I barely moved off the couch. It rained pretty much all day, and even Olga showed no interest in going outside. I finished "The Hero and the Crown," read some magazines and began another Newbery, "The Tale of Despereaux," which is going to be a quick read.

In the evening I made a martini and Dave and I watched Todd Haynes' excellent documentary about The Velvet Underground on Apple TV. I have "the banana album," as it's known, but I didn't know much about their other work, or the band's history in general. I didn't encounter their music growing up because it wasn't played on the radio -- being all about drugs and deviance, Lou Reed's tortured soul and Nico's androgynous sibilance. Obviously that so-called deviance was a huge part of their appeal. To be honest I find many of their songs unlistenable, but I like the more popular, accessible ones like "Sunday Morning" and "I'll Be Your Mirror," and the movie was fascinating.

Addendum, 8:11 a.m. -- The crane now looks farther away than it appeared in the dark. Funny how perspective changes when you get more light on the situation, right?

King Zack

This was the garden on Thursday morning, after the night of our deep freeze. As you can see, everything was covered with frost. It hasn't been quite as cold since then and although our upcoming nighttime temperatures are going to hover in the 30s (F) we're not supposed to freeze. I suppose I could put some of the hardier plants back outside.

The workmen (and they are men) finished the repair work on the exterior wall yesterday. So for the time being, at least, we should be done with all that. We'll see if anything happens regarding the greater problem of the degraded wood beneath the upstairs terrace -- I'm leaving that in the hands of the landlords and the upstairs neighbors, who own their flat. As long as it's not leaking or structurally unsound it can stay like that forever, as far as I'm concerned, being a lowly renter.

I'm set to finish another Newbery today, "The Hero and the Crown," which is quite a sophisticated novel and definitely the most advanced of the three fantasy novels I've read recently. Even though it's not really my thing in terms of genre, it's a good book and I could see recommending it to a kid who wants kings and dragons and a strong female protagonist.

Oh, and look what I picked up at Homebase on my way home from my walk on Thursday! Dave thinks I'm crazy. He said, "Don't ever complain to me again that we have too much stuff." Maybe it's all my fantasy reading, but since I saw them the other day I couldn't get them out of my mind. A zebra with a crown seemed like just what we required.

Starting in Charlton

No, that's not Olga. That's a random dog I met when I walked another link of the Green Chain yesterday. It was tied up across the street from a shop, waiting for its owner and looking a bit anxious.

The weather was bright and sunny when I set out in the morning and took the tube and then a bus down to Charlton, near Greenwich. The route I planned to walk is a bit awkward -- it's shaped like a Y, forking about halfway through. I'd have to choose the A route or the B route, and being a completist, I wanted to do both. So I knew I'd have to figure that out.

I began in Charlton, where I met the dog, and walked through Charlton Park.

There was some tree surgery going on outside Charlton House. I hope they weren't cutting it down entirely, but I didn't stick around to find out.

I walked toward Woolwich and Plumstead, where I came across this brightly tiled pedestrian underpass. The interior was filled with mosaics of animals and angels. An odd combination, but colorful and intriguing.

I also passed this very ordinary block of flats that someone tried to jazz up with a Miami Beach-style canopy. I'm not sure it worked.

My walk took me across Plumstead Common, where I found someone's lost dog collar and tag hanging from a fence. Mindful of my own recent experience with losing a dog tag, I called the phone number and told the owner where they could find it. They seemed very appreciative so hopefully they'll follow through and retrieve it.

I then walked on to an area called "The Slade," where these houses overlooked a rather steep drop into a park with a pond. Those houses have a great view, and at first I thought that must be a desirable place to live. But then I wondered if they have to maintain that retaining wall. And what's their insurance payment like?

I walked all the way to Bostall Woods, where you may remember a couple of these Green Chain walks have taken me before. Don't try to use the public restrooms there, by the way. They're locked. Is there anything more annoying than being on a long walk and coming across a public restroom, only to find it inaccessible?

That was the end of the A route. I found that I could catch a bus down Plumstead High Street and pretty easily walk back to the fork in the path, so I could also take the B route. On the way, I popped into a pub and bought a bag of chips and used their loo. Thank goodness for pubs.

The B route also took me across Plumstead Common, but headed in a different direction, toward Oxleas Woods. As you can see, by this time clouds had settled in and the rest of the afternoon was gray and chilly. I passed these intrepid people out with their hula hoops. I haven't seen anyone use a hula hoop in ages.

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

(I did anyway.)

This was quite a cat-friendly area.

After walking across some very high ground with spectacular views over the Thames Valley, I finished my walk in Oxleas Meadows, at the same cafe where I had lunch a couple of weeks ago. (It was closed yesterday, though, so my bag of chips turned out to be my lunch.) From there I caught a bus back to a tube station and returned home.

While riding on the bus, I passed this group of horseback riders from (I believe) the nearby military barracks at Woolwich:

Interesting that one of the horses is riderless. Is that a symbolic thing, or did someone just not show up for horse-riding duty?

All in all, I walked about six miles, counting some extra walking I did through Charlton at the beginning. After sitting around the house through so many recent rainy days, it felt good to finally get some exercise!