Yes, it's March. Already. London has been gripped by two weeks of freezing weather and so in our minds it's still winter, while the sun rises earlier and Easter peeps around the corner. I can't wait until I can put my scarves and gloves away...*sigh* Thank God I don't live in Canada. Last winter, we got snowed in and I developed cabin fever. Even the dog (an American Eskimo) couldn't stay out for long.
I'm in the middle of making job applications and I am still optimistic, but the long hours of filtering ads and pandering through cover letters are getting me down. Teetering on the brink of boredom.
At the moment, Bargain Hunt is on. It's a mid-morning show in which two pairs of opposing people are assigned a specialist to buy GBP 200.00-worth of items at an antique fair, in the hope that they'll make the most profit at auction later on. Right now, the specialist is trying to sell a couple on a gorgeous 18th century ivory glove-stretcher. Looks like a pair of dainty pointed tongs, with the most delicate little 3-d scene carved into the side. Yum. Sometimes, though, eschewing the advice of their specialist, a couple can purchase some really ghastly second-rate mid-20th century piece of kitsch.
Gosh, listen to me. No wonder they called the degree Art History AND Connoisseurship. I am still amazed when I sounded like a psychologist, but sorry to sound selfish - I feel much more fulfilled when I sound like an art historian. But of course, that's why I am doing THIS and not psychotherapy....
On a lighter note, the kitchen is in upheaval this week. (Not so light after all.) My breakfast consisted of a few handsful of apricot jam-filled mini wheats, and a pot of Earl Grey...a mistake because the teabag jars were mixed up on the shelf.
The upstairs bathroom is also being done up a bit, since the upstairs tenants have just moved out. My bathroom is fine, but I have a tiny toilet leak which is the last thing on the list.
This house drives Suzy (landlady) round the bend - there is always something to be done. She supposes it's because there is so much in it to go wrong. But neither of us have ever lived in such an eventful building. Michael (landlord) has lived here for 30+ years, brought up his family here, etc. It is on a pretty stucco terrace, built in the 1820s. Our garden gets the most glances from passers-by. Suzy says that's what happens when you have a giant urn in the front garden.
I live on the floor with the flower boxes (containing red geraniums - so no danger of cats up here) are outside my window. In the summer, I watered the geraniums weekly, but after they started shrivelling, M. told me to talk to them more and water them less.