I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary

Lest you think that it is all wodges of cake and Shakespeare around here, let me tell you that there are plenty of prosaic traveller's dilemmas going on as well.  For example, even though it is nearly midnight local time and we've been out all day, I can't go to bed because my pajama bottoms are in the tiny dryer , which is the same machine as the tiny washer, and it does not dry clothes.  It heats them up a bit until they are steamy, but it does not dry them.  Would anyone care to tell me if I have some kind of unreasonable American standard for clothes-dryness in the same way as I tend to have the unreasonable American standard for quantity of ice cubes in my drinks?

Speaking of which, since our last trip, it seems that many cafes have instituted a system whereby you can go and get your own glass of tap water, and add as many ice cubes as you like.  Well, almost as many as you like.  I mean, I don't want anyone imagining that it's like at a fast food place in the U.S. where you go up with your 32 ounce Super Enormo Gulp Vat and push the button and fill up the whole thing with ice with nary a thought for where it comes from.  Not that, but there will be a bucket of ice by the stack of glasses, and you can add ice cubes one by one with the tongs until (if you are like me) you buckle under the pressure of judgmental English eyes and slink away.  I have never quite taken as many ice cubes as I wanted, because I'm afraid someone will come over and tap me on the shoulder and remind me about rationing and the Blitz. 

It's perfectly fine to go to other people's countries and dig up their antiquities and bring them home to Bloomsbury, but careful with the ice cubes.

The trouble I have with the British Museum is Priceless Artifact Blindness.  After a little while, I think, "Oh.  Another ancient sculpture of Zeus," with part of my brain, while the other part looks around for the nearest WC.  It's just overwhelming.  Right now, for example, they have a special exhibition called "The History of the World in 100 Objects."  And they mean it.  That's the *short* version of what they have. I combatted my lack of stick-to-it-iveness this time by spending most of my time in two galleries only.  The first, the King's Library that was restored in 2003.  This contains a collection of items that first comprised the British Museum, and the items that were contained in King George III's own collection, which was given to The Nation, as they say. 

See that thing in the middle?  It's some priceless thing that mostly serves to fill up an awkward empty bit. 

Seriously, the exhibit is organized around how collections were formed in the 18th century, and what classifications and objects people found to be important.

This is important.  This is the seal of the East India Company, and you will need to be able to recognize it if  they come to arrest you as a pirate. 

Then I went upstairs to the horological exhibit.  This is my favorite:

A 16th century clock that was made to move across a table, and also the cannons could really fire.  In case you are wondering, they do not have these at the gift shop.  You can read more about it here:
http://www.britishmuseum.org/explore/highlights/highlight_objects/pe_mla/a/the_mechanical_galleon.aspx
Please note that the official description on the museum website makes use of the word "trundle." 

"As You Like It" at the Roundhouse tonight.  Many genuinely funny moments, as when Touchstone basically falls onto the stage dressed as most of the Forest of Arden, or the grapevine tangle that represents the same.  By the end of the production, most of the cast are in modern dress, but as the play begins it is formal and courtly, with Elizabethan costumes in black and jet. 

He's probably waiting for his smalls to come out of the dryer.