The world is still falling apart, but I feel safer than I did a few days ago

I’m culling my bookcases ever more brutally. (Many of my sweethearts books have been in storage for 7 years and the apt continues to have finite floor space.) I said “Any book 2 of a trilogy must go if we don’t have the others.”
Almost immediately: “But not that one!”

I am annoyed at how accessible the British National Gallery isn’t. Broken lifts, long walks to lifts, museum guides who have no idea where a lift might be. And a toilet labeled as accessible (with the little wheelchair icon), reachable with a small flight of stairs.

Going through a person’s bookshelves after they die can be a wistful reminder of olden days. I’m taking this one home. We didn’t know how good we had it, back in the first Bush administration.

Remember the part of *Code Name Verity* where she is so well prepared to spy and then looks the wrong way crossing the street? I appreciate this effort to help clueless pedestrians at a (fast !) London intersection, though I didn’t think this was a touristy area