It was definitely warmer today (around 11°C) but the sun was hidden behind clouds and there was a hint of rain in the air.

Hidden sun, moisture in the air

Today was evidently a day for staying at home, to judge from the number of lighted windows. Have you noticed how the world seems to be divided between those who modestly veil their windows with curtains to frustrate prying eyes and those whose unobstructed windows and full illumination allow a clear view of the interior and the people within? I must admit to belonging to the former group and therefore to wondering at the motives of the latter.

Curvaceous, still awaiting spring

I tipped my hat to old Curvaceous, standing patiently in his corner, perhaps enjoying the repose of winter while awaiting the joyful explosion of new life in spring.

Cheerful window box

Many window boxes were emptied or their contents left to shrivel and die but recently I have begun to see a sort of reawakening: boxes with healthy live plants and even flowers. Perhaps these are the successors of the Christmas wreaths and we should start “collecting” them!

Talking of wreaths…

Hanging on…

…we spotted another survivor “whence all but he had fled”.

Less flamboyant but also charming

Nearby was another window box, less flamboyant than the previous one, perhaps, but no less charming for all that.

Using 1 for a dash

This door amuses me every time I pass it. The owners wished to indicate that the house, number 9 in its street, contains flats, numbered 1 to 4. Perhaps the shop where they bought their numbers had run out of dashes, so they have used a 1, turned sideways, instead. It looks a little like an arrow, about to shoot off sideways and transfix its twin.

Crow, busy on a street lamp

Tigger spotted a crow that was busy at something on a street lamp. We couldn’t see what he was doing but guessed he had found something to eat, perhaps insects.

Still busy
Photo by Tigger

We both like crows because they are very intelligent and interesting to watch. They are nervous of humans – much more so than pigeons or even the skittish gulls. This is understandable because of the long history of abuse to which our species has treated them through ignorance and stupidity. I hope that people are now beginning to take more interest in the environment and to have a more positive view of all birds, including crows and other corvids.

After his snack, the crow flew down to a puddle for a drink of water. Tigger made a short video of this. (It’s very short because it’s converted from an iPhone “live photo” or these are very brief.)

We met it again further along where it had found something else to eat. (Live photo/video by Tigger.)

We were careful to avoid disturbing him because even looking at them insistently makes them nervous. Another passer-by came past, oblivious or uninterested in the crow, which flew off but returned to his snack later. (Unlike pigeons, which when disturbed often seem to forget what they were doing, crows remember and come back and resume their activity once the coast is clear.)

As usual, we called in at Myddelton’s deli for coffee then hurried home for…

…coffee and Kit Kat!

We bought a some packets of Kit Kat and a few other delicacies as a treat for the Christmas period but the Kit Kats have somehow managed to become a daily fixture. Well, they do go rather well with coffee!

It’s another chilly day today but at least it’s not raining. Let’s be grateful for small mercies.

Ghost sign?
Photo by Tigger

As we made our way down Pentonville Road, Tigger thought to see a hitherto unnoticed feature on one of the houses. My eyes were not able to make it out and even looking at the photo, I’m not sure. The feature in question is a slight darkening of a group of bricks. It is to the left of the leftmost first-floor window, slightly to the left above the red front door. Can you make it out?

It could be the eroded remains of a rectangle of black paint, exactly what survives on many of the houses around here, those that are at the beginning of a row. The black paint was the base on which the street name was painted. Though many have been replaced by modern metal or even plastic name plates, a few survive in various states of preservation. Could this once have been a sign showing the name of the street?

Open but empty

We went by the path that runs close beside the Angel Building on the corner of Pentonville Road with St John Street. It’s an office block and in “normal” times is full of people. Today, although the doors were open, it looked deserted – a symbol of our time, I suppose. I do know that some employees, given the choice of working from home or going to the office, prefer the latter though there could have been but few in there today.

Cake shop window

Next to the office entrance is the Hummingbird Bakery. Despite its name, it’s really a cake shop. It was closed though, as a purveyor of food, I imagine they could have opened. What caught my attention was this sparkly window display. In the centre of each was a decorated cup cake – whether real ones or models, I don’t know.

The Gym London Angel

Next to the Hummingbird in the same building is the Gym. I found this slogan on the door rather ironic now that the place, like all of its kind, is closed. This was no doubt put up when restrictions were eased for a while and it has been left perhaps in the hope that those times will return. Equally ironic, a sign on an adjacent window reads “Welcome Back”.

Graffiti van

As the traffic on the nearby road slowed at the lights, I noticed this graffiti decorated van. The first “graffiti van” I ever saw was on one of our trips to Paris. Since then, the habit has spread. This is not a particularly interesting example but I have seen some very good ones. Good or bad, they always evoke in my mind happy memories of that trip to Paris.

Door still devorated

In the run-up to Christmas, I photographed this shop and its festive decorations (see, for example, It’s cold and damp but…). Most seasonal decorations have gone now but this shop still has its door tied up like a Christmas present. Have its owners given up hope of ever opening again?

Flat-screen TV dumped

Do you need or want a flat-screen TV? If so, hurry along to Chadwell Street without delay because if you don’t grab it, someone else will. I have remarked before on the tradition in this neighbourhood of leaving unwanted items in the street for anyone to take. It works too: even faulty items disappear, no doubt to be repaired and sold on. You might call it a “Neighbourhood Recycling” scheme.

Sun shining through clouds

I took this photo in the hope of showing the pleasant glow of the sun through clouds. It didn’t quite work out (don’t say I don’t give you my failures as well as my successes 🙂 ) but it does at least show off the marvellous tracery of the winter-bare trees. In my book, that’s a win!

Myddelton Square Gardens

For a change, we crossed through the central garden of Myddelton Square, once the churchyard of St Mark’s. It was quiet with just one bench occupied, unlike the first lockdown when it was much busier. Those times will no doubt return with the warmer weather and as general vaccination begins to lift us out of our current slough of despond.

Sun shining through clouds

Another attempt to capture the sight of the sun shining through the clouds and making the scene feel that much more cheerful (“If at first you don’t succeed…” 🙂 ). Guess where we were heading?

Myddelton’s deli

Yes, of course, to Myddelton’s for our coffee. We have been seeing rumours in the press that the government is thinking of ordering coffee shops to close, ostensibly on the grounds that people gather outside them, risking transmission of the virus. “Only rumours”, you say. Yes, but some such (government-sponsored?) rumours have turned out to be true. Our hope is that if that does happen, shops like Myddelton’s, as they are food shops, will remain open and still able to provide coffee. We can but hope.

Who’s that in the window
Photo by Tigger

As we made our way home, Tigger spotted something in a window in Claremont Square and took a photo.

The new kitten on the block
Photo by Tigger

It turned out to be a kitten that we had not seen before, a newcomer. Now, I am not accustomed to using words like “sweet”, “adorable” and, worse still, “cute”, but I have to say that I came dangerously close to doing so on this occasion. It was a pretty little thing and made me miss no longer having a cat. I hope we see it again.

Clutching the hot but rapidly cooling coffee, I hurried us the rest of the way home, there to wash our hands for the statutory 20 seconds and at last drink our treasured brew. Cheers!

Our domestic fuel, by which I mean electricity and gas, is supplied along the same system of cables and pipes as everyone else’s. The only difference between us and, say, our next door neighbour, is in who sends us our bills.

British readers will be quite conversant with this way of doing things but for others, here is a brief explanation. Some years ago, the government decided to “privatise” a number industries hitherto owned by state monopolies. Among these were the railways, water and domestic fuel. How do you “privatise” the supply of gas and electricity? Well, obviously, you can’t. It would be an absurd proposition for each company to generate its own electricity, for example, and distribute it along its own power lines. Similar arguments apply to gas and water.

What actually happens is that the existing infrastructure continues in use and the rival companies buy the electricity and gas from the suppliers and issue bills to whichever customers take accounts with them.

This is supposed to introduce that familiar shibboleth of capitalist apologists, “competition”. And it works… well, up to a point. It is indeed possible for domestic customers to shop around for the cheapest prices of gas and electricity. This, though, is a bit like looking for treasure in a minefield and is fraught with difficulties.

The approved way to proceed is to submit your annual usage figures (assuming you were clever enough to record them in this era of electronic accounting) and submit them to each company in turn. In response, you will receive a display of the various tariffs available and how much they will cost you. In theory, you then choose the cheapest.

There is a lot more to it than that, of course. You need to take into account such matters as levels of customer service, how well a company deals with errors and disputes, etc. These can only be resolved by studying reviews submitted by customers and reviews, as we know, are often biased. As I said, it’s a minefield.

After considerable research, we plumped for Octopus Energy on the grounds of having read favourable reviews but also, I must admit, because I like octopuses! 🙂

Another phenomenon designed to complicate an already muddled situation is the “smart meter”. It is government policy to replace all “dumb” meters with smart versions. These allow gas and electricity companies to read your meters remotely without sending a human meter reader or asking customers to submit their own readings.

We do not have smart meters and in view of the negative publicity about them, have so far rejected all overtures to have them installed though we know that one day, force majeure will make this inevitable.

Every month, therefore, we receive an email from Octopus asking us to submit our meter readings. Hence the monthly ritual of the title.

Our meters, along with those of the other residents of our building, are sited in a big cupboard in the basement “area” of this Georgian style house. (I have already mentioned the “area” and what it is, e.g. see Damp and cold.)

To read the meters, the essential tool is a large screwdriver. Why? I will explain later. Then I go down the iron steps into the area, which is where the entrance to my downstairs neighbour’s flat is to be found. My neighbour considers the area to be part of his realm and it is rather cluttered, making my task more difficult, but he’s a good egg and so I prefer not to criticise or complain.

The cupboard

Space is limited so these cramped photos don’t give a true impression of things. This is the double door of the meter cupboard. There is no lock and, more to the point, no door handle. The doors are closed by being jammed together. So how do I open them? This where the big screwdriver comes in: I use it to lever the doors apart! The trick is to lever them out and then thump with my fist on the left one. All being well this releases them from their tight embrace and the door springs open.

Meters

This is a partial view inside the meter cupboard. All the meters, for both gas and electricity, are here. Each labelled with the number of the flat to which it belongs.

I used to take a notepad and pen with me to record the readings. Then Tigger suggested I take photos with my phone camera. The only question I have about that is Why didn’t I think of that?!

The electricity meter

The more awkward to reach is the electricity meter because it is high up and on the left. I’m 6′ 5″ (1.96m) tall but I still have to stand on tip-toe and crane my neck to read it… or reach up with my phone and photograph it! Much easier.

The gas meter

The gas meter is low down on the right and easy to see.

Having taken my photos (and checked that they actually show what they are supposed to show), I close the double doors. In damp weather, when the wood tends to swell, even this is difficult and takes a fair amount of pummelling to achieve. I also, out of courtesy, put back in front of the doors the various items left there by my neighbour and which I have had to remove in order open them.

That ends the main adventure. Recording the readings for future reference and entering them into our account online are trivial details.

Octopus works on the basis of debiting your account each month by a fixed amount. Your usage is monitored by means of the meter readings and the monthly amount is from time to time increased or decreased as seems reasonable. The monthly meter reading ritual is therefore likely to be a feature of our lives indefinitely or until we can be inveigled into accepting a smart meter.

Other essential “tools” to take with me are keys to the house door and to our own door. I keep them carefully, even though I leave the doors open for the few minutes this all takes. I learnt that lesson a few years ago when I went outside without keys and the draught slammed the front door! Tigger was at work and none of the other residents responded to me ringing their doorbells. There I was, outside, in my slippers, with no keys or even my phone! I did manage to find a way back inside but this involved climbing on builders’ scaffolding and breaking a window! Not an episode I wish to repeat!

As usual, we went to Sainsbury’s in Liverpool Road for our Sunday shopping run. The weather had taken a turn for the better (but for how long?): the sun was shining and, according to the Met Office, the ambient temperature had reached a heady 9°C.

Sunny Baron Street

This photo of Baron Street shows the sunshine which, even if its warming power is still attenuated, at least makes us feel more cheerful!

A good turnout at Chapel Market?

We crossed Chapel Market into White Conduit Street and a quick glance at the market itself suggested a good turnout: stalls all the way up to the middle. Appearances can be deceptive, though, as we shall see.

Why do we take the apparently eccentric route through White Conduit Street into Tolpuddle Street and from there go round the corner into Liverpool Road instead of going straight down Chapel Market and simply turning left? In a word: the queue!

Queueing for Sainsbury’s

On Sunday just as they opened was previously a good time to shop at Sainsbury’s as there were relatively few customers at that time. Since the onset of the pandemic, though, that has changed and many more people turn up at opening time, perhaps under the illusion that there will be fewer shoppers then. The result is that, before the opening at 11 am, a queue begins to form and stretches along Sainsbury’s façade in Liverpool Road and round the corner into Tolpuddle Road and so we join it there. Today it was already long and immediately after we arrived, several more people took up station behind us.

At 11 am, as though someone has fired a starting pistol, the queue begins to advance and surprisingly fast! When we arrive at the entrance we see an security employee with an electronic pad counting us in. At the exit are matching security employees counting the people who leave. By this means, Sainsbury’s limits the number of customers in the store to what it considers safe.

Tolpuddle Street and an aeroplane

While waiting, I took this photo looking along Tolpuddle Street. You might be able to see an aeroplane in the sky just to the right of the street lamp. Shining in the sun, it somehow emphasised the cheerfulness of the scene.

We knew exactly what items we needed and sped round Sainsbury’s in record time, despite ending with a well stocked trolley. We reached a checkout just as the previous customer was leaving.

Have you noticed how checkout staff never push your items far enough down the chute so that you have to reach for them? So I give each item an extra push, roughly dividing them into groups while Tigger stows them in the shopping trolley.

Not so many stalls, after all

On the way back we do go through the market, so I was able to see that my initial impression was faulty: there were not that many stalls today after all, despite it being Sunday and the weather fine. They were all grouped in the middle, making it seem that they were more numerous than in fact they were.

I of course paid a visit to Mercer’s to buy coffee and I remembered to hand them our loyalty card and retrieve it duly stamped: free coffee next time!

A glance at the time showed that the whole trip, from home and back again, had taken just 40 minutes. Not bad going.

Did Ari miss us while we were gone? No, I don’t think so, either!

First thing this morning, as I was preparing my breakfast, I looked around the room, visually seeking a familiar form, but nothing caught my gaze: our house guest, Ari the Spider, was nowhere to be seen.

Imagine my amused surprise, then, when Tigger emerged and said “Oh, look!”

Ari reappears
Photo by Tigger

I looked and on the wall, virtually above my head, was Ari! Where she had been and how she had reappeared so suddenly seemed mysterious.

Our rooms have high ceilings and there’s not much light at the top so that photographing a small creature in the shadows presents difficulties. It seemed only reasonable to use flash as we did on a previous occasion. However, both then and this time, Ari’s reaction suggests that the flash incommodes her. We will therefore refrain from using it in future.

Ari is still here – for now

Our method of choice now is to use the torch app on our phones to provide enough illumination for the photo. That’s how I took the photo above. The light is far less intense than that of the flash and Ari doesn’t seem to mind it.

In the time interval between the two photos, we had been out to do our shopping and so I was a little surprised on our return to find Ari much where we had left her. However, she did start to move and in a generally downwards direction. By the time I had written this, she had disappeared again.

This, then, provides a clue to where she spends her periods of invisibility: behind the books on the bookshelves! I could, of course, move the books and take a look but I really don’t want to disturb her if she believes she has found a safe place to wait out the winter. I am happy to see her when she puts in an appearance and to leave her in peace in between.

Note: In my original post I said I would always include the word “spider” in the title of posts about Ari so that arachnophobes can skip them if they wish.