Wednesday, 25 January 2017

Men waiting




I think I posted this because it reminded me of a play - some modern thing with an ensemble cast. They were standing in such a specific spot on the platform, in close proximity largely, and all male.
It struck me as almost choreographed, and yet it was random.

Thursday, 19 January 2017

Feel free

Androgynous, can't tell if they are a young man or teenage girl. Hiding in sports clothes and woolly hat, small feet in black suede trainers. Ring through the nose like a bull. Feel free tattooed on the fingers of both hands - one letter per finger. Is it a statement of mind, a life motto? Or something more sinister? A damaged soul used to performing tasks they don't want to. 

And then they are gone...

Monday, 16 January 2017

Tube talk

"She wants to go theatre"
"What does she want to see?"
"Um.... err....", he scratches his head, thinking hard, "Dunno. I'm supposed to be buying tickets. Have you ever been theatre?"
"Yes"
"What did you see?"
"We will rock you - queen musical"

Friday, 13 January 2017

Snow

Of the London variety - after much talk all day yesterday of snow (weather claimed there was a 100% likelihood of snow by last evening's rush hour) when it finally came it was mixed with cold rain and didn't settle at all. Its now snowing again - dry flakes drifting horizontally in the breeze but it doesn't look like its settling. So unlikely to be cross-country skiing home this evening either. People are drifting over the windows taking pictures of the white precipitation - its about as good as it gets usually here.

Monday, 9 January 2017

Getting to work in a tube strike

So I do work on the edge of zone 1. The opposite edge than where I live. The bus from home wasn't bad until it terminated early at Newington Green. Where the bus full of disgruntled passengers alightened to join the already crowded pavement. Then got lucky and caught a 73. It goes to Victoria. Might just ride it all the way there and catch a bus from there to work....

Change of heart. Got off at the top of Gower Street. 
Tall man ties his bike to a railing outside the university. 
Thin, pale woman with deep red lips walks past the back entrance of UCH hospital in black spike heel ankle boots, clutching a document that looks about a ream thick. 

Was thinking to catch a 27, but it's a 14minute wait so jumped on an 18. 

Saturday, 7 January 2017

Happy Bloody New Year

So we welcomed the new year with a round of parties - four stop offs in total. There was family,  champagne and gin cocktails, sparklers, and lots of dancing. I made a dress to celebrate in - a red dress, Japanese kimono influence. Much approval of the dress.

The Panther's mother was in hospital the whole holiday season - receiving cancer treatment. We had to pop to her house around the new year and discovered there had been an upsurge due to a blocked stack pipe blocking all the sewerage from four flats - her ground floor was awash with dirty toilet water, used toilet tissue, baby wipes that someone was flushing down the toilet (they don't break down - they had clogged the whole system), and excrement. Each time someone upstairs flushed their loo a little bit more flooded out over the top of his mothers downstairs toilet. Dismay. Then action - borrowed sandbags from the waste team at the end of the road. They got us through to the emergency service to come and unblock the drain (finally came about midnight - after Thames Water had tried and failed to unblock it - its only at times like these that you struggle to understand the pipe ownership issues that exist).

Then I had a resurgence of the cold that had clung to me since November. It hit us both with a vengeance. We were stricken and took to our bed, not to surface for four days (due back at work on the 5thbut didn't make it). Finally started to feel better after feeding ourselves chicken broth heavy with garlic, ginger and chillis.

And then I discovered that what I thought were mosquito bites ( I know - it's January and they don't like the cold) were actually bed bugs. Ewwwww. Almost at last straws....


Saturday, 31 December 2016

2017 Here We Come



Tuesday, 20 December 2016

Ceramic sale


So we decided to show and sell my pots at the Tottenham Ploughman Winterfest at Bruce Castle a week ago. Having never shown them to anyone I was a bit nervous but I had lots of positive feedback, some potential opportunities and some happy buyers. Good all round. This is what I sold.


Wednesday, 16 November 2016

New world

We have a reality TV star as the next President, the campaign was all about the lowest common denominator, people were rubbished because of the way they looked or sounded. Have you ever seen the film Idiocracy? 

Thursday, 3 November 2016

Eating Out

I'm in a Turkish restaurant, the panther has gone in search of tobacco and I'm listening to a couple who are on a date. A white man with cane rowed hair and a black woman wearing a long straight hair wig. He is telling her about Samson and Delilah, particularly about how his strength was in his hair. And using it to illustrate why he didn't want to have his hair cut in order to hold down a regular job. She giggled and said he was so funny. He said he'd like to see her hair one day. 

Tuesday, 1 November 2016

The American Election

Discussion over the coffee machine today about people thinking they could vote in the American elections - over-coverage on the British news about it I guess, making them think it's actually one of our elections. We don't hear anything about the other two candidates though, only the top two horse race. And lots and lots of coverage about disgruntled voters feeling uninspired by either of them. Suddenly remembered back to when Obama won his first term. It sent a shockwave round the globe, rippling of joy and amazement. His great oration, the hope, his youth, and his colour - made him wipe the board with the old style of politician who standing next to him came across as staid, fuddy duddy, stuffed shirts without a word to say to the people. We have subsequently voted in younger, in some cases trendier politicians also. So the candidates in this election seem old school, like we are backing away from the great hope that was the first black American president. The world felt like it had changed. But now it's stuffing the change back in the box.

Morning tube

There is a carriage full of workers on their way - sweatshirted roadies, suited businessmen, suited salesman, shirt and jeans combo record shop assistants - all engaged in some small screen activity, listening to music and occasionally reading the paper. Then there is a man sitting with his legs wide, green puffa and white cable-knit jumper eating custard from a polystyrene pot. He's enjoying it, paying no attention to anyone else. Each spoonful held aloft to his lips, as he blows on it with his wide puckered mouth, before slurping it back and digging in again. Finished by Finsbury Park, he packs up the empty pot, wipes his mouth with a grey patch of kitchen towel, wraps it all up in a blue local-shop plastic bag and puts it in his bag. Sitting back he blends back into the throng of workers. 

Monday, 31 October 2016

Happy Halloween

It's day of the dead again. 

I sent off my absentee ballot paper today in the hope that we can trump the Trump and stop him being elected. That's scarier than any ghoul we could dress up as. 


The Love Knot

A novel by John Slavin
Set in between the wars in Weimar Rebublic featuring two English women tussling with artists and poets and coming into contact with the beginning of Fascism and the rise of Hitler pre-leadership. 
A literary novel written as a sequel to DH Lawrence's 'Women in Love'. I like the style of writing but at a third of the way through the book I don't like any of the characters, men or women. Perhaps it's too old a theme - women looking for the husband who will love and look after them, supposedly fiercely independent women who rely on others... 

Friday, 23 September 2016

Kensington High Street

People in Kensington still travel. There are more travel agents than anything else in the High Street. Unlike Tottenham High Street, where the majority business is bookmakers. There is only one bookmaker in Kensington High Street. People like outdoorsy sports especially skiing and rock climbing. They use expensive bikes. And eat out. They still buy books. And they park on yellow lines during the day (I guess that happens in all High Streets).

Opposite my work a maid, (in a maids uniform - little blue stripy dress and a white apron, like Jennifer Lopez wore in Maid in New York) was outside the house sweeping. Maids dress a little like nurses. Blue uniforms, white short socks and white sensible shoes.

In the lift a terribly English man is talking to a terribly English woman (middle English - no accent as such, him: strawberry blond hair and beard, her: mousy brown ponytail).  It ended up here, he pointed to his neck just below his ear, I never really understand the lip kissing thing. Its embarrassing enough with your own parents, she pipes in, but someone else's! I leave the lift. Thinking about discomfort of meeting people. I've overcome that a long time ago. Socially meeting women is a cheek kiss the first time and same for the elders of the Panther's (either sex), and later on that cheek kissing informality becomes lip kissing or very-close-to-mouth kissing. The Panther greets my father that way. Actually its nice. Its so much more welcoming than a handshake, that feels ever so standoffish now. Moving away from stiff upper lippish Englishness. Good riddance to it!

Monday, 19 September 2016

Corner cafe

It was a late evening last night - selling stuff and food at a flea market, got home after a long clearing up session at 12.30. Today I am exhausted. Literally aching all over and tired. I found the closest thing to a greasy spoon that I think the neighbourhood will muster and I'm drinking a long strong cappuccino and waiting for eggs benedict. They are playing Pink Floyd. As the track Money begins I become aware of someone behind me tapping their foot heavily in time. A youngish man says flat white when the waitress asks and then says I'll be back in a couple of minutes I have to sit in the car. The waitress comes to the door and calls down the street large or small? The waitresses speak French. My eggs come. Perfect without giving instructions. A welcome pick-me-up. Flat white man pops back and sugars his coffee before hurrying out. The tune changes to Comfortably Numb. Cars go past. 

I've just been reading about Amy Schumer, then a tragic tale about a tetraplegic woman who has the anxiety in extreme form when you feel you are missing out (my whole younger life was one long worry about that) because she is - not able to get up by herself and finally about a white collar man who bought himself a boiler suit. Panther bought a boiler suit and does love rocking it - yes it's practical but there are also the benefits of having it tied round your waist teamed with a vest or in extremely hot conditions a bare chest (I can hardly speak about it I am so overcome)... And then I'm misreading the advert in the cafe window (backwards because I'm inside and the paper faces outwards) fluff time staff wanted I read. 

Thursday, 15 September 2016

Lift

As I walked up to the lift back up to training at Westminster City Hall 10 Queens Gaurds in full uniform with red jackets and bear skin hats came trailing out of the lift. Some with hats in hand. Heavy clopping in the marble floor from their boots. 

Kensington High Street

It's hot. A crocodile of private school girls lines up to cross the street. They are wearing awfully old fashioned pale blue gingham summer uniform dresses with white piping and white round collars and straw boater hats. Marshalled by some strict looking teachers in high vis vests.

Reasons to be cheerful

A random stranger (woman) on the escalator today excused me and told me she absolutely loved my figure (me - I'm not usually that keen on it), she felt odd after and said she wasn't a lesbian or anything but felt she had to say. It made me feel good about myself and made me smile - which is a good thing. 

Now I'm listening to Bentley Rythym Ace (of some time ago) which is further lifting my spirits. 

Friday, 9 September 2016

Continuing the integration

Dog walker dressed in black training outfit walks through Kensington Gardens with 4 dogs, all neatly walking to heel, quietly, without the hint of a tug. 

Shortly after a largely muscled man jogs past, he draws attention because he has two mini parachutes holding wind behind him (I guess to increase the pull and improve the training). 

3 older ladies sit in an extended golf cart (a sort-of golf cart limo) being driven around to look at the Palace. Their driver giving a guided tour on route. 

The entrance to the palace is guarded by armed police. Signs saying photography is not allowed are all over the place - the next street over is full of embassies (Romanian, Russian, Israel, Nepal, Slovakian). It's quiet. Street is empty apart from a tanned man with a huge gold chain bracelet and a cigar being driven in a large black silent car.

And I return to the office politics.