No reason to post these other than the total spiffiness of certain hidden corners of my neighbourhood.
Click on the pictures for the sheer hell of it.
Poke around in a medley of mediæval monastic masonry.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Norfolk's Hidden Gems: Castle Acre - Pt.1
Castle Acre! Boffo!
No reason to post these other than the total spiffiness of certain hidden corners of my neighbourhood.
Click on the pictures for the sheer hell of it.
Anyone out there in the market for romantic ruins? Here you go.
Come hither, through Norman gateways almost a thousand years old.
Poke around in a medley of mediæval monastic masonry.
Fondle fantastic flintwork.
Er … Communal latrines! Yay!
How picturesque can you get?
Hooray for ruin and decay!
More of this type of guff in the next post. You have been warned.
No reason to post these other than the total spiffiness of certain hidden corners of my neighbourhood.
Click on the pictures for the sheer hell of it.
Poke around in a medley of mediæval monastic masonry.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Memorial
Here we are again in Norwich. And as it's Memorial Day for our Colonial Cousins across the pond I shall wish them a wonderful and moving day of remembrance and shall post some views around our War Memorial Gardens, just re-opened after refurbishment.
Before we get to the Memorial itself - and in keeping with our recent street furniture theme - these are the yummy bases for the flagpoles. I find them incomparably spiffy.
Very 1927, and decidedly un-warlike in their subject matter. I love them. Yay for peace and scantily clad maidens dancing erotically.
Here is the Memorial itself, designed (like London's Cenotaph) by Sir Edwin Lutyens after the Great War (that's 1914-18 for the Colonials).
If you stand in the doorway of City Hall the Memorial lines up beautifully with the Castle. The urns at the ends will hold eternal flames once the whole thing is fully recommissioned ready for Armistice Day in November.
There's a nice modern sculpture behind it, overlooking the Market. Complete with slacker types posing for your pleasure.
At one end of the garden walk is the Guildhall, star of many a blog post in the past.
At the other end is St.Peter Mancroft …
And the Forum.
It's a lovely place to sit in the sun, especially as it is only yards from all the shops. Here's our Lynn doing just that (I did email her to ask if I could use this photo but as she hasn't replied I'm using it anyway). Hee hee.
Anyhoo … Happy Memorial Day to my American friends.
Before we get to the Memorial itself - and in keeping with our recent street furniture theme - these are the yummy bases for the flagpoles. I find them incomparably spiffy.
Anyhoo … Happy Memorial Day to my American friends.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
What Is It With Girls And Horses?
I've never understood it. Riding is fun, but why do so many girls fall in love with cleaning tackle and shovelling shit just so they can jiggle their butts up and down and wear a silly hat?
"Ooooh, Mummy! I'll simply die if I can't join the Pony Club!"
Even the police horses in London can't stop for a breather without girls smearing sweat and ice cream all over their faces, just at that awkward spot where they can't lick it off.
Weemen … I'll never understand 'em.
"Ooooh, Mummy! I'll simply die if I can't join the Pony Club!"
Even the police horses in London can't stop for a breather without girls smearing sweat and ice cream all over their faces, just at that awkward spot where they can't lick it off.
Weemen … I'll never understand 'em.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Where Did All These Aches Come From?
In the studio with Michael and Phil this afternoon for a good therapeutic thrash after all the panicky London work.
For three old guys we certainly know how to make a racket. Unfortunately I've not yet mastered my new camera sufficiently to figure out how to take videos (What me? Read a manual?), so you'll have to wait to suffer that until another time.
What I have realised is that amps and guitars are fucking heavy and that as I no longer gig regularly every hour played will cost me approximately five hours of aches and muscle pain and back problems and will leave me hicking around the house moaning like Grandpa Simpson.
Be warned: next time there will be video … if my back holds out.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
500 Words XLVIII - Story Time
Are you all sitting comfortably? Do you have coffee?
If not, get your arses into gear because there are stories to read.
First up: the current assignment in case somebody's still writing or about to write.
Here it is (well, a link to it anyway).
And here are the stories:
First up came Vanda with a truly delicious story that - amazingly - managed to combine both the photograph and the quote, so double points there.
Vanda's 'The Honeysuckle Twins'
I am so in love with crazy Liza.
Next up comes our Dear Prudence, with a beautifully written and untitled tale that really gripped me by the spooky bits and refused to let go.
I'm posting it here in its entirety as Blogger is throwing its toys out of the pram and refusing to let Prudence post it on her own blog.
Enjoy …
Prudence's Story
“Some limited and waning memory of Herbert Ashe, an engineer for the Southern Railway Line, still lingers in the hotel at Androgué, among the effusive honeysuckle vines and in the illusory depths of the mirrors." Not unlike this place Marisa whispered aloud, putting down her book. She did not speak to anyone in particular.
Having moved in to a historic 1880’s Victorian duplex, this past March, Marisa was trying out life as a single person again for the first time in 24 years. The quietness was a shock to her system for the first few weeks. The fact that the house was still clean when she arrived home from work each day was still an unexpected surprise. Over the last few months though, Marisa grew into her new role as single lady although she no longer felt alone.
Odd things started happening almost as soon as she was settled. The light across the street on the campus of the Prep School; founded in 1845 was the first thing she noticed. Logically, it was a motion-activated light and that is why it would blink on or off randomly. Illogically it only did it when she looked at it while having a smoke on the stoop. If it was on, it went off. If it were off, on it would be in seconds of her first puff. At first she laughed it off but it became almost an obsession and one that seem to react to her. She caught herself one night, after too many glasses of wine speaking out loud “if someone is trying to get my attention then turn it off”. Blink, blink, and off it went. Marisa looked around hoping someone else might have witnessed that. The dogs would not corroborate her story even though they had similar stories to tell of late. She would catch them staring in the corner of the ceiling in the parlor. Ears raised and eyes wide looking at …nothing? Seamus now refused to walk down the hallway father than the first bend. Each night she would have to pick him up and carry him to bed. Stella simply tiptoed, doggy style, head low until she reached the bed. This was very odd behavior for a fearless Jack Russell. One night just as she felt herself sinking into that haziness of sleep she no longer felt alone. Living in a city the ambient light pollution illuminated her room. She scanned it quickly. Nothing. Corners in the house felt full at times and empty at others. Again, she spoke out loud “listen, this is my room. I work hard and need my sleep. I don’t care if you want to stay here but you can’t be bothering me when I try to sleep”. Marisa felt silly but that “not alone” feeling went away and she drifted easily to sleep. When she got up the next morning to make coffee she noticed her pepper mill sitting dead center in her salt receptacle. She would never make that mistake; she didn’t even like her vegetables touching on her plate. Little pieces of pepper always fell out of the bottom she would never have put that there. Pouring her coffee she walked past her newly acquired antique mirror that now hung in the parlor. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse… or not.
Spooky, huh?
And bringing up the rear are my own two stories; one from the photograph and one from the quotation.
Dive's 'With Gods On My Side'
… which is a true story. Honestly!
and Dive's 'Tango'
in which I went looking for Androgué and discovered it's a suburb of Buenos Aires where Borges used to live. Then I got totally sucked in to the history of Argentina's nineteenth century railway boom, where the whole thing was shipped over from England and built by English engineers using Scots, Irish and Criollo labour and by the time I surfaced from my research Herbert Ashe's fate was sealed …
Next assignment coming soon.
If not, get your arses into gear because there are stories to read.
First up: the current assignment in case somebody's still writing or about to write.
Here it is (well, a link to it anyway).
And here are the stories:
First up came Vanda with a truly delicious story that - amazingly - managed to combine both the photograph and the quote, so double points there.
Vanda's 'The Honeysuckle Twins'
I am so in love with crazy Liza.
Next up comes our Dear Prudence, with a beautifully written and untitled tale that really gripped me by the spooky bits and refused to let go.
I'm posting it here in its entirety as Blogger is throwing its toys out of the pram and refusing to let Prudence post it on her own blog.
Enjoy …
Prudence's Story
“Some limited and waning memory of Herbert Ashe, an engineer for the Southern Railway Line, still lingers in the hotel at Androgué, among the effusive honeysuckle vines and in the illusory depths of the mirrors." Not unlike this place Marisa whispered aloud, putting down her book. She did not speak to anyone in particular.
Having moved in to a historic 1880’s Victorian duplex, this past March, Marisa was trying out life as a single person again for the first time in 24 years. The quietness was a shock to her system for the first few weeks. The fact that the house was still clean when she arrived home from work each day was still an unexpected surprise. Over the last few months though, Marisa grew into her new role as single lady although she no longer felt alone.
Odd things started happening almost as soon as she was settled. The light across the street on the campus of the Prep School; founded in 1845 was the first thing she noticed. Logically, it was a motion-activated light and that is why it would blink on or off randomly. Illogically it only did it when she looked at it while having a smoke on the stoop. If it was on, it went off. If it were off, on it would be in seconds of her first puff. At first she laughed it off but it became almost an obsession and one that seem to react to her. She caught herself one night, after too many glasses of wine speaking out loud “if someone is trying to get my attention then turn it off”. Blink, blink, and off it went. Marisa looked around hoping someone else might have witnessed that. The dogs would not corroborate her story even though they had similar stories to tell of late. She would catch them staring in the corner of the ceiling in the parlor. Ears raised and eyes wide looking at …nothing? Seamus now refused to walk down the hallway father than the first bend. Each night she would have to pick him up and carry him to bed. Stella simply tiptoed, doggy style, head low until she reached the bed. This was very odd behavior for a fearless Jack Russell. One night just as she felt herself sinking into that haziness of sleep she no longer felt alone. Living in a city the ambient light pollution illuminated her room. She scanned it quickly. Nothing. Corners in the house felt full at times and empty at others. Again, she spoke out loud “listen, this is my room. I work hard and need my sleep. I don’t care if you want to stay here but you can’t be bothering me when I try to sleep”. Marisa felt silly but that “not alone” feeling went away and she drifted easily to sleep. When she got up the next morning to make coffee she noticed her pepper mill sitting dead center in her salt receptacle. She would never make that mistake; she didn’t even like her vegetables touching on her plate. Little pieces of pepper always fell out of the bottom she would never have put that there. Pouring her coffee she walked past her newly acquired antique mirror that now hung in the parlor. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse… or not.
Spooky, huh?
And bringing up the rear are my own two stories; one from the photograph and one from the quotation.
Dive's 'With Gods On My Side'
… which is a true story. Honestly!
and Dive's 'Tango'
in which I went looking for Androgué and discovered it's a suburb of Buenos Aires where Borges used to live. Then I got totally sucked in to the history of Argentina's nineteenth century railway boom, where the whole thing was shipped over from England and built by English engineers using Scots, Irish and Criollo labour and by the time I surfaced from my research Herbert Ashe's fate was sealed …
Next assignment coming soon.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Station Break
We interrupt this programme to bring you a classic "Maria Meme" … something I have not done for years, so it's about time.
Do it yourself if you want to. If not, meh …
Eyes down.
1) ONE OF YOUR SCARS. HOW DID YOU GET IT?
My appendix burst when I was fifteen and as well as a scar wide enough to get an entire surgeon inside my gut I also have a nifty one that originally housed a drainage tube (icky) from that operation. It looks just like a stab wound so that's the one I would show on a drunken "Hey! Let's compare scars!" evening. "I got this in a knife fight between the Sharks and the Jets!"
Ha!
2) WHAT IS ON THE WALLS OF YOUR BEDROOM?
Hang on; I'll go take a look …
Two big giclee prints of Edward Hopper lighthouses, framed in sea green driftwood (neatly planed, not the gnarly type you get in a certain type of craft shop), a whole bunch of Victorian Waterhouse prints (you know, the ones with scantily clad nymphs all over the place), a beautiful relief sculpture that Helen did based on an Arthur Rackham illustration, a big Australian perenti lizard sculpture painted in aboriginal designs hanging up behind the door, and a huge red abstract painting by a Swiss artist nobody's ever heard of. The rest of the walls are full of book cases and tallboys and a wardrobe.
Oh, and an occasional spider.
3) WHAT DOES YOUR MOBILE PHONE LOOK LIKE?
I do not have and shall never have a mobile fucking phone.
4) WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?
Mostly either baroque or modern classical. I used to listen to a lot of Steely Dan, Joni, Dylan, Tom Waits, Zappa, Miles Davis, stuff like that, and I still occasionally find myself in that kind of mood these days.
5) DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?
Five minutes to midnight.
6) WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
Right now? I want time to skip forward until my coffee is cool enough to drink.
Oh, and a girlfriend.
7) WHO DO YOU MISS?
Nobody. I'm a pretty fucking good shot with a rifle.
8) IS ANYONE IN LOVE WITH YOU OR HAS A CRUSH ON YOU?
Not that I'm aware of. If there were anyone I wish they'd let me know. I'm not getting any younger here.
9) WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU KISSED?
Pauline at the old office, when I went in last Thursday after almost a year's absence.
No tongues.
10) WHAT IS YOUR MIDDLE NAME?
Anthony, after Dad's brother who got shot down and killed in the final days of WWII at the age of just nineteen.
11) THE BEST TV SHOW EVER CREATED?
The original Danish version of The Killing was shockingly good, but I'd have to stick a pin in and choose between Buffy, The Simpsons and Frasier.
12) THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO?
Mike at the office, just now on the phone (he gets in ludicrously early to beat the traffic and then goes home in the middle of the afternoon).
13) DO YOU GET SCARED IN THE DARK?
Hell, no. Darkness is comforting. I get scared in daylight, when I can see other people.
14) THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY?
Dorothy Parker. I was reading her short story "The Little Hours" a couple of nights ago and laughed so hard I cried. It was either that or pee myself.
15) WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE COLOGNE/PERFUME?
I am anosmic. All perfume tastes (I can't smell but I can taste stuff in the air) like paint or turps or gasoline to me as all I can pick up on is the solvent. I could never kiss a girl's perfumed neck without gagging.
CLEAN is the best taste! Nobody needs stinky perfume unless they are covering up another stink. Just leave the crappy stuff on the shelf and take a wash.
16) WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOUR DO YOU LIKE IN THE OPPOSITE SEX?
As long as they have at least one eye and hair of some description I'm easy. Actually, bald can look good on a woman, though lately I'm finding long grey hair kind of nice.
17) WOULD YOU RATHER BE SMART OR FUNNY?
I'm both. I'm also ugly but that's just nature balancing things out.
18) COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINKS?
Coffee! COFFEE! COFFEE! Strong. Black. No sugar. Espresso or bica.
A latte first thing at the office.
At home, Lavazza Gold or Cuban.
Energy drinks? Ptha!
19) WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE PIZZA TOPPING?
There is only one pizza topping: home-made passata, buffalo mozzarella and fresh basil. Anything else is not a pizza, but a "pizza" (an American term that is pronounced much the same as pizza but tastes nothing like it as it is basically baked flat bread with somebody's dinner slopped on top).
Anybody putting tinned pineapple chunks on top is gonna get a slap. Or meat or fish or God forbid (thank you Emily for forever tainting my view of Americans) macaroni cheese.
Don't mess with perfection, people.
20) IF YOU COULD EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Right now, I'm not hungry. I'm just waiting for my coffee.
21) WHO IS THE LAST PERSON WHO MADE YOU MAD?
Probably someone in the government. I don't remember.
22) DO YOU SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE?
Sim, Oui, Ja, Si, Hai.
23) WHAT WAS THE FIRST GIFT THAT YOU REMEMBER SOMEONE GIVING YOU?
A beautifully bound book of Bewick's birds that my Godfather Pete gave me on my fourth birthday. I still have it and treasure it and I blame him for the fact that my entire house is a library.
24) DO YOU LIKE SOMEONE?
I like lots of people. But do you mean 'like' or do you mean "like"? There's nobody I particularly "like" right now, though I'd probably stutter and blush were I to meet Alina Ibragimova.
25) ARE YOU DOUBLE JOINTED?
In places. It all depends on who I'm with and how drunk we are.
26) FAVOURITE CLOTHING BRAND?
I never buy anything branded except (and this is because I have worn them since I was a kid) Levi 501 jeans and Converse All Star hi-tops. And boy do I hate the fact that those are back in fashion again! Stop wearing what I wear, you bastards!
27) WHAT IS YOUR DREAM CAR?
It varies … Right now a 1960 Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint Zagato would be sweet.
28) WHAT COLOUR IS IT?
Alfa rosso. It only came in one colour.
29) WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE KIND OF EXERCISE?
In the absence of a swimming pool or a willing woman, I like to walk. A lot. Fast.
30) WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING?
They've all left, so judging on past experience, that's a yes. If there's ever another one, she'll probably leave, too. Hey ho.
Do it yourself if you want to. If not, meh …
Eyes down.
1) ONE OF YOUR SCARS. HOW DID YOU GET IT?
My appendix burst when I was fifteen and as well as a scar wide enough to get an entire surgeon inside my gut I also have a nifty one that originally housed a drainage tube (icky) from that operation. It looks just like a stab wound so that's the one I would show on a drunken "Hey! Let's compare scars!" evening. "I got this in a knife fight between the Sharks and the Jets!"
Ha!
2) WHAT IS ON THE WALLS OF YOUR BEDROOM?
Hang on; I'll go take a look …
Two big giclee prints of Edward Hopper lighthouses, framed in sea green driftwood (neatly planed, not the gnarly type you get in a certain type of craft shop), a whole bunch of Victorian Waterhouse prints (you know, the ones with scantily clad nymphs all over the place), a beautiful relief sculpture that Helen did based on an Arthur Rackham illustration, a big Australian perenti lizard sculpture painted in aboriginal designs hanging up behind the door, and a huge red abstract painting by a Swiss artist nobody's ever heard of. The rest of the walls are full of book cases and tallboys and a wardrobe.
Oh, and an occasional spider.
3) WHAT DOES YOUR MOBILE PHONE LOOK LIKE?
I do not have and shall never have a mobile fucking phone.
4) WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?
Mostly either baroque or modern classical. I used to listen to a lot of Steely Dan, Joni, Dylan, Tom Waits, Zappa, Miles Davis, stuff like that, and I still occasionally find myself in that kind of mood these days.
5) DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?
Five minutes to midnight.
6) WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
Right now? I want time to skip forward until my coffee is cool enough to drink.
Oh, and a girlfriend.
7) WHO DO YOU MISS?
Nobody. I'm a pretty fucking good shot with a rifle.
8) IS ANYONE IN LOVE WITH YOU OR HAS A CRUSH ON YOU?
Not that I'm aware of. If there were anyone I wish they'd let me know. I'm not getting any younger here.
9) WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU KISSED?
Pauline at the old office, when I went in last Thursday after almost a year's absence.
No tongues.
10) WHAT IS YOUR MIDDLE NAME?
Anthony, after Dad's brother who got shot down and killed in the final days of WWII at the age of just nineteen.
11) THE BEST TV SHOW EVER CREATED?
The original Danish version of The Killing was shockingly good, but I'd have to stick a pin in and choose between Buffy, The Simpsons and Frasier.
12) THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO?
Mike at the office, just now on the phone (he gets in ludicrously early to beat the traffic and then goes home in the middle of the afternoon).
13) DO YOU GET SCARED IN THE DARK?
Hell, no. Darkness is comforting. I get scared in daylight, when I can see other people.
14) THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY?
Dorothy Parker. I was reading her short story "The Little Hours" a couple of nights ago and laughed so hard I cried. It was either that or pee myself.
15) WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE COLOGNE/PERFUME?
I am anosmic. All perfume tastes (I can't smell but I can taste stuff in the air) like paint or turps or gasoline to me as all I can pick up on is the solvent. I could never kiss a girl's perfumed neck without gagging.
CLEAN is the best taste! Nobody needs stinky perfume unless they are covering up another stink. Just leave the crappy stuff on the shelf and take a wash.
16) WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOUR DO YOU LIKE IN THE OPPOSITE SEX?
As long as they have at least one eye and hair of some description I'm easy. Actually, bald can look good on a woman, though lately I'm finding long grey hair kind of nice.
17) WOULD YOU RATHER BE SMART OR FUNNY?
I'm both. I'm also ugly but that's just nature balancing things out.
18) COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINKS?
Coffee! COFFEE! COFFEE! Strong. Black. No sugar. Espresso or bica.
A latte first thing at the office.
At home, Lavazza Gold or Cuban.
Energy drinks? Ptha!
19) WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE PIZZA TOPPING?
There is only one pizza topping: home-made passata, buffalo mozzarella and fresh basil. Anything else is not a pizza, but a "pizza" (an American term that is pronounced much the same as pizza but tastes nothing like it as it is basically baked flat bread with somebody's dinner slopped on top).
Anybody putting tinned pineapple chunks on top is gonna get a slap. Or meat or fish or God forbid (thank you Emily for forever tainting my view of Americans) macaroni cheese.
Don't mess with perfection, people.
20) IF YOU COULD EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Right now, I'm not hungry. I'm just waiting for my coffee.
21) WHO IS THE LAST PERSON WHO MADE YOU MAD?
Probably someone in the government. I don't remember.
22) DO YOU SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE?
Sim, Oui, Ja, Si, Hai.
23) WHAT WAS THE FIRST GIFT THAT YOU REMEMBER SOMEONE GIVING YOU?
A beautifully bound book of Bewick's birds that my Godfather Pete gave me on my fourth birthday. I still have it and treasure it and I blame him for the fact that my entire house is a library.
24) DO YOU LIKE SOMEONE?
I like lots of people. But do you mean 'like' or do you mean "like"? There's nobody I particularly "like" right now, though I'd probably stutter and blush were I to meet Alina Ibragimova.
25) ARE YOU DOUBLE JOINTED?
In places. It all depends on who I'm with and how drunk we are.
26) FAVOURITE CLOTHING BRAND?
I never buy anything branded except (and this is because I have worn them since I was a kid) Levi 501 jeans and Converse All Star hi-tops. And boy do I hate the fact that those are back in fashion again! Stop wearing what I wear, you bastards!
27) WHAT IS YOUR DREAM CAR?
It varies … Right now a 1960 Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint Zagato would be sweet.
28) WHAT COLOUR IS IT?
Alfa rosso. It only came in one colour.
29) WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE KIND OF EXERCISE?
In the absence of a swimming pool or a willing woman, I like to walk. A lot. Fast.
30) WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING?
They've all left, so judging on past experience, that's a yes. If there's ever another one, she'll probably leave, too. Hey ho.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Random London
In all the years I walked past the sundial on St.Margaret's Church (the little church in the grounds of Westminster Abbey that all the politicians use), I've never known it to be wrong.
Of course you have to adjust for BST … Big Ben was chiming eleven when I took this this morning.
And if anyone's dumb enough to ask why it only goes from 3 to 10, it's because this dial is on the east face of the tower (in the summer the sun comes up at half-three here) - there are more dials on the south and west faces with the relevant hours marked on them. Telling the time kept you fit back in the day. Well at least you had to walk a few yards at different times of the day to be able to see it.
Of course you have to adjust for BST … Big Ben was chiming eleven when I took this this morning.
And if anyone's dumb enough to ask why it only goes from 3 to 10, it's because this dial is on the east face of the tower (in the summer the sun comes up at half-three here) - there are more dials on the south and west faces with the relevant hours marked on them. Telling the time kept you fit back in the day. Well at least you had to walk a few yards at different times of the day to be able to see it.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
Meanwhile, Back At The Office
Yesterday I took time out to head back to the old office in Westminster for the first time in almost a year.
As you can see, things haven't changed much at all … the usual insane crowds of French and American tourists yelling at one another, the same bomb threats, the same sushi in the park … God, I've missed it.
I popped in to the office over lunch and things got a little huggy and squealy - and that was just the security man. It was great to see everyone again and to discover that my old chair still creaks like a fart-storm when I lean back in it.
The parks are still my favourite places to hang (and to eat the fabulous sushi the chef in the Japan Store makes to order as you watch and marvel). And of course the girls are still as pretty (I've missed that, too).
I took a few photos of the Parasite House for Lynn. Otherwise she'd have never forgiven me.
The Abbey looks as gorgeous as ever as I walked the familiar route to "work" (the office is just down the street you can see in the bottom right-hand corner of the photo, and then turn left).
Anyhoo … the reason I was there was that the old office had called and asked if I'd provide some holiday cover by working at home over the next couple of weekends. Never one to turn down good hard cash and free tickets to London, that's just what I'm doing.
More random photos of London to follow.
As you can see, things haven't changed much at all … the usual insane crowds of French and American tourists yelling at one another, the same bomb threats, the same sushi in the park … God, I've missed it.
I popped in to the office over lunch and things got a little huggy and squealy - and that was just the security man. It was great to see everyone again and to discover that my old chair still creaks like a fart-storm when I lean back in it.
The parks are still my favourite places to hang (and to eat the fabulous sushi the chef in the Japan Store makes to order as you watch and marvel). And of course the girls are still as pretty (I've missed that, too).
I took a few photos of the Parasite House for Lynn. Otherwise she'd have never forgiven me.
The Abbey looks as gorgeous as ever as I walked the familiar route to "work" (the office is just down the street you can see in the bottom right-hand corner of the photo, and then turn left).
Anyhoo … the reason I was there was that the old office had called and asked if I'd provide some holiday cover by working at home over the next couple of weekends. Never one to turn down good hard cash and free tickets to London, that's just what I'm doing.
More random photos of London to follow.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)