This is the dump. We’ve been here before.

I had to take some yard stuff that didn’t go in the giveaway sale. You can’t just put a bag of pebbles in the trash. Well, you could, but you shouldn’t. You can come here six times a year, and you have to have a voucher every time. As before, everyone was in a fine mood. Cheerful and helpful and upbeat and you have a good one on the way out. I also got rid of an old Dirt Devil we’ve been carting from here to there for the better part of a quarter century, the backup backup backup vacuum.

Or is it the backup backup backup backup? Let’s see. After the Dirt Devil, we got an Oreck, because we’d arrived, baby. Cadillac of vacuums. There was an Oreck store in the burbs, in the nice Centennial Plaza place, and they had a salesman who was just fantastic. The guy loved to sell vacuum cleaners. Or rather, the guy loved to sell, and in this period of his life was selling this instead of that. You bought one, he assured you that you’d made a great decision, these things are the best, the top of the line - and when you brought it in because it broke, he’d upsell you to another one. USED, at that. He was good. I wonder what he’s selling now. Somehow I think he got into crypto 15 years ago.

Eventually we tired of always getting the cord stuck on something - the corner of a stair step, the space between the table leg and the floor (The space between the felt pads that kept the leg from scratching the finish), or just getting stuck under a door because you’d taken it to the bedroom closet and the slight elevation of the bathroom tile wedged it right. Nothing quite brings the red mist of rage like your vacumn cleaner cord snagging on something. So I bought a Dyson. Battery operated, lightweight. We loved it! Performed well, until the battery lost its will to live. It will hold a charge for about 17 seconds, and during those 17 seconds it will huff and wheeze like a car in limp-home mode.

Back to the corded units. In this case, a Shark. Great reviews. Stylish. Powerful. Dependable. I wonder who’ll get it.

After the exciting disposal interval I went to The Other Target, where one sales associate out of four said Hello. Someone didn't get the memo, or did, and wadded it up and shrugged: so write me up. Go ahead. Then I went hone and tortured myself with more househunting, just to see what’s out there. I am now done with that. It gave me a Failure Headache all day. I swear I have been feeling lousy since London, as if I got shifted to an alternate reality and haven’t found my way back, and there’s all these vibrations and frequencies that are interacting poorly with my natural state of mind.

Or, and hear me out, I was shifted to an alternate reality and haven’t found my way back, and there’s all these vibrations and frequencies that are interacting poorly with my natural state of mind. It's possible.

The Creek today:

Chill in the AM, 60 by the afternoon.

Surprise! Another installment of . . .

Why not. A nice diversion. A good way to pad out increase your knowledge of one of the world's greatest cities.

As I was walking to the National Gallery, I crossed a broad street with several examples of commemorative statuary.

If you had to guess, which war would you say?

Right! The Crimean Guards memorial.

It was unveiled in 1861 and consisted of the statues of three Guardsmen, with a female allegorical figure referred to as Honour. It was cast in bronze, with components cast from cannons melted down that had been captured at the siege of Sevastopol.

The embodiment of Honour:

Of course, critics have to criticize:

The mournful attitude of Bell's figures caused some controversy, as it contrasted with the heroic poses expected of war memorials at that time. An anonymous critic writing in The Illustrated London News described it as "an eyesore" and wrote that the figure of Honour resembled "a street acrobat throwing his four rings."

It was moved north in 1914 to make way for a Florence Nightingale statue. But it wasn't moved far. Just a few yards.

It’s 1924.

Not a bad paper, not bad at all. Lots of things to read, and items of interest from around the world that really didn’t matter, but gave you a sense of a busy, interesting world.

Hey Kett - whip up something non-denominational about voting.

Can do, boss

You will note that Mr. Voter fish is smoking a cigar.

Most of the news is the usual small-town fare: deaths and anniversaries. But then there’s something unusual.

The paper abounds with syndicated features, which makes it interesting to me. All these voices with standing heads, graphics, morals, stories, imported from the East Coast bureaus.

The authoress:

Helen May Rowland (1875–1950) was an American journalist and humorist. For many years she wrote a column in the New York World called "Reflections of a Bachelor Girl". Many of her pithy insights from these columns were published in book form, including Reflections of a Bachelor Girl (1909), The Rubáiyát of a Bachelor (1915), and A Guide to Men (1922).

We’ll meet her again in a Here to There, when that resumes next year.

And another: they were really going to nail down the female portion of the audience on page 2. A bit grim, I'm afraid.

Jane Doe:

Jane Doe was the professional name used by Nettie (Ada) Lewis (1891–1979) whilst working as a journalist in the 1920s and 1930s. She wrote a regular column “Through the Glad Eyes of a Woman” for the Daily Chronicle and Sunday News. Later she wrote a Health and Beauty page for Woman’s Own. She was a protegée of the socialist journalist and writer Robert Blatchford. Her articles were collected into book format. She also wrote The Enchanted Duchess, a bodice-ripper novel.

Jane/Nettie was a fascinating lady. She was a ‘flapper ‘who took off for America where she met controversial lawyer Milo Lewis. They returned to London, married and had a daughter Netta. A difficult divorce followed and she then had to make her living as a single mother. Her writing career took off and developed and she was able to sustain a good standard of living until the Second World War when freelance work dried up. She published little after the war and instead took to teaching English.

Oh LET’S!

Seriously? Luigi Luiggi?

Yes.

An Italian Senator. Luigi Luiggi (born 3 August 1856 in Genoa - 1 February 1931 in Rome) was an Italian engineer and politician. He was a senator for the Italian parliament. He led the Cabinet on the Ministry of Public Works from 1892 to 1893. He received the Order of the Crown of Italy and French Legion of Honour.

News from Washington:

Razed in 1972. The hotel, not Miss Hudson. Many great postcards and history here. As for Ruth: Her dad would be in DC until 1931. He was primaried, and lost the renomination.

Ruth was married in 1926, and died in 1978.

Hey Frank, whip us up something in favor of voting, will ya? Nothing specific so it can run whenever.

“Can do.”

Not a lot of info on Frank Crerie.

Not a bad paper, not bad at all. Lots of things to read, and items of interest from around the world that really didn’t matter, but gave you a sense of a busy, interesting world.

That will do. One more week after this for Chain Store Age. Savor it while you can!