People-seeing in London and Bath

 -just came back from a visit to England. I was gone about two weeks and it felt, towards the end, just a tad too long. To be fair, I needed the first week to recover from jetlag, so for the second week I was awake during the day and asleep at night, so there's that, at least. 

When I lived in London a little over a decade ago, I saw my fair share of British film and television actors in places like Holborn and Bloomsbury. Seemingly every character actor who had had a bit part on Dr. Who was in and around Lambs Conduit Street. This time was slightly different in that I saw some familiar faces in unexpected places and one in an unexpected get-up. 

A few days into my trip, I was traveling on the SE rail taking a train from London Bridge to Greenwich and as I was alighting at Greenwich I turned my head to see Rupert Everett slouched against the window seat on my train bound for Slade Green. He turned his head to meet my gaze. I thought, looking good, Rupert and then looked away as I stepped off the train. Where was he going? Woolwich? 

I met a couple of friends in Bath during their Autumn 'fayre' weekend the 13th and 14th, I believe it was. I had arrived on the Thursday and was sat in the square very near both the Roman Baths and Bath Abbey when Mr. Grand Designs, Kevin McCloud, walked through. I had just watched a re-run of Grand Designs the night before in my accommodations and was sort of floored that McCloud looks just like he does in the show (minus the big puffer jacket as it wasn't cold out). I wondered why he was in Bath until I popped in to Topping & Company Booksellers the next day and realized that he'd had a speaking engagement there the previous evening. Too bad I missed it!

The funniest 'off the telly' sighting was in Russell Square. I had just come from a visit to the V & A Museum and was taking the bus, for the heck of it, down Piccadilly Circus. The bus terminated at Russell Square, so I hopped off and was about to cut through the square when I saw a woman, surrounded by a small entourage, who was dressed like a catcher's mitt. I thought it funny, and tried to take a sneaky snap when the woman in the silly get-up saw me. I put the phone down and she said, 'No, I want you to take a picture.' I realized then that it was Katherine Ryan, a Canadian comedian who has done fairly well for herself in the UK, dressed like a goof. I told her she looked 'fucking ridiculous' (which was probably the point) and took a photo. She was with her husband and a what turned about to be a camera crew. Apparently, Ryan was dressed as a snack food and not a mitt. Hearing my No. American accent, she said the mitt-shaped crisp was a cross between a Cheezit and some Brit crisp I was unfamiliar with. I told her she had me at Cheezit and her hubs told me rather enthusiastically to 'try one!' Then an assistant's hand shot out with a bag, so I took one. The puffy little mitt-shape snack was god awful. So I just thanked them and moved away. Whatever Ryan was hawking is going to need more help than her dressed as the snack, to be honest. 

The one famous person I expected to 'see' on my trip to England was in Bristol. From Bath one can easily reach Bristol via the x39 bus. So I hopped on the bus one morning looking forward to my visit, if you will, with the person below. I wasn't paying great attention to the stops, so actually rode the x39 to the end station. No biggie. Walking back loosely via the bus route led me to signage for the Millennium Square. A walk over the river Avon and a few steps farther was this man--

Bristol boy made good.

Without my having to state, I would hope that the artist captured this person's likeness well enough for you to know who this is! 

'A lotta rocks, y'all.'

The title of this piece comes from a dude who, upon first getting out of his car in the Yosemite Valley Lodge parking lot, looked around and then said to his family still sat in the vehicle: It's a lot of rocks, y'all. 

I will not say that seeing stubbed out cigarettes butts on the ground at a bus stop in Yosemite Valley would typify my experience visiting the national park, but it's not far off. There are hoards of visitors to the valley in the summer, and, arguably, not enough oversite of said guests. I spent a portion of my visit picking up litter, unfortunately. That said, I was glad to see the grandeur of the park after 44 years. I have hazy memories of our family trip to Yosemite--I think we camped--but even if I had remembered the 1980 stay, today's park experience would probably not be comparable as the number of visitors to the park have nearly doubled over the ensuing years. In 1980, there were approx. 2.4 million visitors to the park--which is still loads, to be honest. But compare that to pre-pandemic nos. hovering around 4 million annually. The last visitor tally taken was in 2021, I think, and the number of park guests that year was around 3 million.

My buddy, S., flew over last week from England and is making her way from California to Las Nevada via automobile. S. bunked with me here in SF the first part of her stay, then we both traveled to Yosemite together before parting ways yesterday. She traveled on to Sin City via Death Valley while I took public transport back home. (I wouldn't recommend it, to be honest, as I spent nearly ten hours on trains and busses before throwing in the towel and having my hubs pick me up from a bus stop about three miles from home.) I've major travel fatigue today, let me tell you.

S. was completely enamored of the flora and fauna in Yosemite. I would hazard to guess that her home turf of Newbury is vastly different. While we do have similar flora in my neck of the woods--redwood, oak, pine--the scale and magnitude of Yosemite makes visiting the trees feel that much more grand. 

Over the summer, I worked a retail job in a tourist area here in town called Pier 39. It's, as the name might imply, along the water and from the pier one has a stellar view of the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz and the Marin Headlands when the skies are clear. Visitors from all over the world and the country visit Pier 39. I found that most days at work had me interacting with folk from German-speaking countries. The boss, interestingly, told me when I was hired and found out that I spoke German: We hardly get any German visitors. That told me that a) she doesn't know what German sounds like and b) she must not ever visit the Pier 39 shop. After a month on the job, I knew for sure that it was the latter and probably also the former. 

Anyway, back to Yosemite--German guide books must have a sort of prescribed route for visitors to California to take because the majority of those with whom I spoke had rented a vehicle and were traveling between SF and Los Angeles with stops in Yosemite, and in Las Vegas (this included seeing the Grand Canyon), and, time permitting, a trip to Bryce Canyon National Park in Utah as well in between.  It would seem that if the Germans are anything, they are nature lovers. 

I didn't take any litter pictures while in Yosemite because why bring any of us down, but I did take a snap that, for the most part, incapsulated my stay there. 

I'm still trying to figure out how these Germans got their VW camper vehicle over here from Hessen (I looked the plate up). Talk about dedication to the cause! 

I will leave you with a few more pictures of Yosemite--

El Capitan, there are five climbers on the rock face, if you can believe it!

Camp Curry, Half Dome in the background.

This big boy was eventually startled by some nitwits having a photo shoot/video shoot in the grass nearby.

Lovely day in the yard--

This is my view from the new dining table out back while I read Joanne's latest blog post. I can't tell you how thrilled I am to be sitting outside right now. There are workmen using power tools on a house a few doors down and I can hear a steady stream of screams coming from St. Gabe's, a Catholic elementary school, on the corner. BRRRRR!!! then EEEEEE!!! then some more BBBUUUURRR!!! And you know what? I really do love it. This yard makes me happy as a clam. 

The cats are darn happy, too, when they are able to be sprung from the Catio and let out into the wider yard, that is. I can't really keep an eye on both of them at once--they always eye the fence--so I have to have them out with me one at a time. Marcel was outside with me first and then poor Bartie was allowed out after his plaintive cries pierced my heart. 

Marcel under the jade plant.

Sad Bart with his stuffed mouse for comfort stuck in the Catio.

Big Boy Joy out in the backyard with me.

New garden, new life.

The grey has been greened!

We're not only enjoying our new backyard digs, but the front yard brings us joy as well. It's a different vibe--the area is small and fairly close to the sidewalk, so we see passersby up close and personal, as it were, but the south-facing front yard can be really warm and inviting to sit in when the sun is out. The plants at the front of the house are mostly a repeat of what has been planted in the back; it's an entirely native plant garden. We've some potted succulents and a few milkweed plants--both broad and narrow-leaf varieties that may find their way into the ground at some point--dotting a small seating area one can easily access via our front door. 

The milkweeds came from the nursery replete with Monarch eggs (much to our surprise). There were four caterpillars that all reached maturity on those plants and three of them, we know for sure, emerged from their chrysalises, then spent a short bit of time in the garden pumping up their wings before flying away. It was such a treat to observe the process of their growth cycles. 

Here are a few snaps from the Monarch experience-

Two on one milkweed plant.

 

 The butterfly will soon emerge.

Nearly ready to fly southward.

When it was time, two of the Monarch caterpillars made their way from the milkweed to a buckwheat plant at the edge of the front garden wherein they made their chrysalises. One of the caterpillars made due with a bit of driftwood for his chrysalis and the fourth, well, we couldn't find him once he left the safety of his milkweed plant. We hope he was successful in making his transition! 

Just in time for...

Near the end of May, at the beginning of the landscaping work to spruce up the back and front yards, the head dude, Josue, said rather enthusiastically: -just in time for Summer! He meant, of course, that the work that began in May would likely conclude about mid-July, then we'd be ready to enjoy the rest of our summer days out in the new backyard digs. When the end of July rolled around, he said: -just in time for Fall! And, of course, Josue meant that the work would conclude--after an illness, a missing bit of wood that needed to be newly ordered, and a vacation put the job on hold for a good few weeks--mid-August. 

Today is August 28th and the job would appear, knock wood, to be finished!

Here are a few before and after snaps for you to feast your eyes on:

This is the yard when we first moved in. 

We then added raised beds, planted around the perimeter, and laid down seeds for a lawn.

After a few years of having the lawn, we decided to let it die as it was, after all, quite costly to maintain. It just doesn't make sense to grow lush, green grass in this semi-arid climate. We opted instead to plant native flora in our raised beds and tend to the plants along the fencing we'd both inherited and had put in the ground ourselves. 

Ultimately, the yard, a rectangle with a concrete footpath around it, didn't really float our boat, so we thought about ways to re-mold it into a more user-friendly and pollinator-attractive habitat. Whatever we thought of absolutely included removal of the concrete path, and a mega-large slab of concrete at the back of the house that was likely used as a seating area by the previous homeowner. Looking for inspiration, we went online to see what local landscaping companies were doing. We found a landscape design firm here in SF that seemed to be invested in creating gardens that were more aligned with local climate and environment than not, so we approached them for assistance. The design included about 70% local plants and 30% non-native. All of the concrete was to be removed and some of it would be repurposed and used as a footpath. We would still have our old raised beds and potted plants from before the yard re-do. The finished result is a beauty. I'm so glad we took the plunge. 

We also had the landscape dudes enclose a small portion of the yard at the back of the house that would be for the cats to use. They have access to the 'catio' via my husband's office. It's a cosy space replete with cat mint and ferns and such, but there aren't yet enough elevated spaces for the cats to perch on, so they'd really rather be out in the 'big yard'. If we're feeling like we can keep an eye on them, then we bring them out to sit with us, but as soon as they start eyeing the fence, we put them inside. 

View from back of the house--

From my new bench at the back of the yard-- 

Partial plant list for those who are interested:

Yerba Buena

Sticky Monkey Flower

Yarrow

Coastal Sage

Coastal Sedge

California Lilac

Buckwheat

White Sage 

Coyote Mint

Unhinged

I'm talking about me, unfortunately. Within a span of about a week, I've lost my rag on people. Were the outbursts justified? You be the judge. 

At a rather well-visited produce market on Friday, a man assumed I had cut in front of him in order to get to the til two minutes faster than him. There were three shoppers in front of me and he was sort of in the middle of the aisle shopping, but not at the end of the line, so I stood behind those few folks. At some point, I sort of heard a disembodied voice say something like, 'Excuse me, ma'am..?' and didn't think much about it as I did not think it was directed at me. Then I felt someone push a shopping cart/trolley into my hand cart/basket repeatedly. I realised then it was the man I'd noticed shopping. He had been speaking to me and now he was aggressively pushing his cart into my person. I felt panicked, didn't know how to respond, so, in the great tradition of supreme avoidance, kept facing front and silently waited those few minutes until a was at the til. The line I was standing in branched off; one had two checkstands to choose from. I chose the one on the left. The aggro dude followed behind me in order to give me shit for the perceived slight. 

You know you saw me. 

Dude, whatever. 

The world doesn't revolve around you. 

And it doesn't revolve around you shopping in an aisle. 

He would not drop it, so I invited him to meet me in the parking lot for a fist-fight after we finished paying for our groceries. Just before I left the store, I stuck my backside out and asked him if he wanted to ram me with his shopping cart a few more times for good measure before I left. Dude responded by calling me 'old' as in wasn't I too old to be behaving the way I was. Ah, the retort of the simple! Readers, it wasn't pretty. My 6'3" husband wondered if the man's response to feeling put out would have been the same if he had been with me, or, indeed, had been shopping in my stead that day. 

***

This morning, I watched as some clueless dog owner let her dog use our front garden as a toilet. I rapped on the front window and got her attention. She looked at me as I gestured to her to not let her dog do what it was doing. She ignored me, and when the dog was done, she walked on. I then went outside, saw the excrement and saw red. I yelled after her to, again, not allow her dog to defecate and urinate on the plants. She looked back at me, said nothing, and kept walking. I used a few choice words before going back inside, but not before picking up the 'doggie dropping' and disposing it in the bin. Had I known where she lived, I would have taken the poo to her porch and left it. Am I nuts? Maybe? 

Lamentation

Well, that happened. And what good did it do? Kooks will find his survival some sort of divine right. 

While walking home today along a well-visited stretch of road called The Embarcadero, I spied a lone dude stood at a folding card table selling those fucking stupid MAGA "$10 Hat". I pointed, looked and laughed openly at him. I have to tell you I worry about who'll be laughing come November.