A Perfect Day so far

So far it has been a perfect day. I fear tomorrow's news; however, I'll address that in another posting if I feel like it.

My day started at 7:30 am, far too early for my still-jet-lagged brain and body. What could motivate me to get out of bed early and hit the street by 9:15? Rummage!! Rather, the high quality used goods at the St. John's Hospice Charity Shop on SJW Hi Street. Before I could leave A Flat on Abbey Road, there was a lull in the traffic sounds, so I rushed to the window to see the horses and ordnance pass by. I never get tired of it. I wonder if there is a schedule to their jaunts. For example, this is the first Tuesday of the month, we've been here three months, and I've seen them pass by three times. I'll have to check my other entries.

Laurie, the Hospice Charity Shop manager, was busy Hoovering when I arrived, and her associate Lloyd was organizing racks of clothing. I was assigned to tidying the shelves along half the store's walls. Shoes, videos, bric-a-brac, jewellry, ties, etc. all had to be organized and made to look extra-nice, as there would be VIP's in the shop later.

After a while, the shop opened and two volunteers arrived to be sales personnel for the first shift. After discovering the source of my accent, they were MOST eager to talk American politics. In fact, every one with whom I've chatted recently wants to find out if I've voted (I have), for whom I've voted (they don't make even a pretense of being polite about asking) and then spend ten minutes talking about US politics and the US's role in the world. I lingered for another fifteen minutes or so, then made my way up the Hi Street.

A quick peek into Starbucks as I passed revealed that no one I know was in there. I kept going, less alert than usual for spotting a familiar face. As I passed one cafe, there was a couple in a close embrace in the doorway under an awning. The man was in shadow facing the street, the woman had long dark hair which obscured both their faces. Their embrace went on for about ten of my paces. It seemed pretty long to me... Not wanting to gawk, I averted my gaze. JUST as I was about to pass, they broke apart, and the man looked a bit startled when he saw that I was there. The woman turned and shot a "thank you" to someone in the other direction. I glanced quickly at the man, and saw that it was YOU KNOW WHO, my first crush when I was 10, NW8's most famous citizen, standing there on the street engaged in an intimate embrace with another woman!! I hurried on toward Finchley Road. I resisted the urge to turn around for another look, (at least until a full minute had passed) and reflected on the pitfalls of fame.

Smiling and humming softly to myself, I waited at the lights for the "Green Man" to show that it was safe to cross. An elderly lady with a cane waited with me, and she took off ahead of the light change, which I am still not able to bring myself to do most of the time, never knowing from which direction a speeding bus may materialize. As I passed the back entrance to one of the local hospitals, I glanced to my right, and who should be approaching but the ubiquitous Dr. D, with MP3 player in hand and earbuds firmly placed. He popped out the earbuds when he saw me, so I took that as a signal that it was OK to stop and say hello. "Dr. D, my day is complete! First I saw "name of celebrity", now you!!" "Where was he? Maybe I'll see him, too!" he joked.
Pleasant chat ensued; we both needed to be on our way, so we parted with a comment by me about his tunes. "I won't tell you what I'm listening to, you'd probably publish it on your blog". "That is distinctly unfair!" I replied, (I put this part in just to find out if he's still a reader), while backing toward a driveway containing an oncoming car. He cautioned me to stop moving in a direction I was not looking, and saved me from being squashed. Of course, if I had been injured, at least my G.P. would have been on hand...

I note that Dr. D. is the first Brit to NOT wish to talk with me about today's election, or at least to be so polite as to not enquire about my politics.

PS Further research reveals that the woman seen with Sir You Know Who is New Yorker Nancy Shevill, age 47, (not that much younger than me!) and a multimillion dollar US heiress to New England Motor Freight, which she manages. Perhaps he's trying to "get back" some of the multi-millions that he lost to Heather... No wonder that her "Thank You" to someone over her shoulder "didn't have" an accent! Don't worry Hubster, (or church-ladies,) he seems to be taken!