Chin up, it's almost spring

Rain again today. Scott's in the office again today. I decided that in spite of those two less than ideal circumstances, I would have a nice day. I headed over to Kew Gardens to see if spring is here yet. Not bad. Definitely wet and chilly, but a good two hour walk always lifts the spirits and there were plenty of late winter flowers coming up.

There was still a good bit of ice on the pond I visited, but melting in such a beautiful way I wound up taking photo after photo of the water's surface. There was also a warm & steamy orchid exhibit which made me feel so happy. Click to enlarge the photos...

Namibia, day 1

On our first day in Namibia we rented a truck in Windhoek and drove about 2 hours southwest from the capital to a small lodge to spend our first night before venturing further afield for the rest of out 10 day road trip. Beautiful drive. Incredibly hot, unbelievably dry. So dry you actually don't sweat--any moisture evaporates instantly. In fact by the end of the first day I had a pounding headache from dehydration. The rest of the trip we drank around 3 liters or more each per day.

After four years in London, I guess I've come to take water for granted. If anything, the English climate has turned water, in my imagination, into an ever present, gloomy, drizzly weight that must be endured for endless stretches with a scowl and an upturned collar. A roadblock to wearing my new high heeled turquoise suede ankle boots. A compelling excuse to skip morning runs and therefore a contributing factor to my body's modest but nonetheless alarming new tendency toward muffin top in the absence of regular cardio. All of these unpleasant things, rather than the precious stuff of life it is most everywhere else.

So it was humbling to notice, when we stopped our truck so I could hop out and open a wooden gate to allow our vehicle to drive into the lodge on a dusty, heat emitting road, a swarm of tiny purple butterflies coating a patch on the ground. Why? Because upon closer inspection, I realized they had gathered to lick a faintly moist patch in the sand, most likely deposited by a leaky vehicle that had stopped previously in this same spot to open the gate.

A hundred tiny creatures, whipping their little tongues at the dampness. This was life or death for them. I immediately poured half of my water bottle onto the ground, hoping to give them a party.

Most of them scattered as soon as I approached and started taking pictures...only a handful of brave (or extra thirsty) ones stayed behind. Click to enlarge...notice the little guy coming in for a landing to the right in photo four below.

I am not an otter

In the same way that it's said Eskimos have 52 words for snow, the BBC online weather forecast seems to have about 500 different depictions of the sublte variations in the constant rain expected this week.



Summer is not here yet. Yesterday I wore my Barbour jacket (purchased in Chicago in winter to keep out the wind!) and a wool scarf. And I was still a bit chilly. Scott suggested we pretend it was October and then it would seen unseasonably warm.

I found a curious snippet in the Times Sunday magazine last weekend that sums up all that is wrong with this country:

THINK YOURSELF SUNNY
By Edwina Ings-Chambers

Hurrah, it’s the summer (almost). Except, hold on, this is Britain, so it’s almost guaranteed that rain will stop play. So, how can we keep thinking sunny?

- Reframe your thinking. “Focus on season indicators that aren’t about the weather,” says the cognitive behavioural therapist Rhena Branch. “New growth, flowers, window boxes, the smell of barbecues and all those other things that say it’s summer.

- Don’t be a perfectionist. “The British are famous for their intrepid spirit,” says the life coach Nina Grunfeld. “You can still head to the beach, even if there’s just a glint of sunshine, but take a cardigan.”

- ”If it does rain, try to imagine you’re a creature that loves rain, like an otter,” says Grunfeld. “Ask yourself how an otter would enjoy the rain, and see how you can bring those sorts of feelings into yourself by, say, putting on waterproofs and venturing out.”

Edwina, I don't mean to piss on your parade, but I AM NOT AN OTTER. Neither are you. Perhaps you are suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. A nation shouldn't have to tap the depths of its intrepid spirit to head on a picnic. WWII ended in 1945.