I thought I was so clever last night. I got into my pajamas and then put most of my remaining clothes in the washing machine. Then I hung them to dry before I went to bed. It's now almost noon and I'm still in my pajamas because, guess what, my clothes are still damp and this includes all of my trousers (I have to use the British term for fear of being embarrassingly misunderstood here). I broke down at one point and put a pair in the dryer for ten minutes. This seemed to help and they didn't seem to shrink, so I've put them back in for another twenty minutes. I hope that doesn't "land" us an electricity bill from our land-titled-person.

Later today: I finally was able to shower and get dressed and get out the door by mid-afternoon. I resumed my quest from two days ago of finding a particular gift for my mother-in-law. I walked towards Islington, but first stopped at the Joseph Grimaldi Park because I was determined to find the pantomime clown's grave that I didn't find back in August. It is fitting that it is in a former church burial ground. The grass was a little wet because there was a light, misty rain (although the forecast, uncharacteristically, indicated there was a 0% chance of rain today). I found Grimaldi's grave, after about ten minutes, in an annex to the park.

The stone reads:

Joseph Grimaldi 

1778 - 1837

Joseph Grimaldi was 3 years old when he first went on the stage of Sadler's Wells with his father, and worked there for 45 years as performer and part-proprietor.

From his debut in 1806 at Covent Garden in Mother Goose he was adored by all and could fill a theatre anywhere. The name Joey has passed into our language to mean a clown.

He lived all his life among the people of Clerkenwell and died at 33 Southampton Street, now called Calshot Street.

Islington Council has called the park in which he lies buried the Joseph Grimaldi Park to commemorate a great artist and a great man.

I wondered what these berms in the park were. So I looked online when I got home.

I didn't find the answer, but I did find out that they refurbished the park in 2010 and it supposedly looks like this (not the part I saw). I also discovered that there is a musical art installation by Henry Krokatsis dedicated to Joseph Grimaldi. It is in the shape of two caskets and is made of bronze tiles, each tile sounding a different note. It is meant to be danced on and you can supposedly play Hot Codlins, a song Grimaldi used to sing. So I now have to try to go back there tomorrow to look more carefully in the annex.

I continued walking to not one, not two, but at least five stores without finding the gift I wanted. I'll see if I have time to look some more tomorrow after I clean the flat. I did some other browsing and managed to waste the rest of the afternoon. Gord met me up at Ottolenghi for a very tasty early dinner.

I'm going to miss these old buildings when we leave in about 38 hours.

Reading: The Cat's Table by Michael Ondaaatje