The List

Number three: paint the TV stand
When I moved in I painted the living room, got furniture, rug, lighting. What I didn't ever do was paint the stand I put the TV on. It was once dark wood - sawn off the top of a huge bookcase that was at my Dad's first London office in Bloomsbury (very high ceilings, in a georgian building - when they moved offices the bookcase had to be shortened to fit into the next place). Anyway these top bits made very good shelves for records and makes an excellent TV shelf. So its painted, and I've managed to empty two boxes - video and dvd collection is out and ready to be watched - just another 50 or so to go.

Extreme Gardening

Lull in the rain, sunshine glimmering through the clouds, raindrops hanging heavy on branches glistening. Went out to plant some summer flowering bulbs. Didn't realise how cold it was. Dug some earth. Rain started, drizzling. Then it got heavier, then the snow started, then hail. Gave up when it started to really rain hard. Nice weather for ducks.

The List

I've got two weeks off work, I'm staying at home, I set out a wish list of jobs to get done in the house.

Number one: paint the wardrobe.
New bedroom, new colour scheme. Well I say new, but I've been here for a year and 5 months now and still haven't got round to painting the wardrobe to match. Because it was a pending job I didn't bother emptying the wardrobe boxes that the contents came to the new house in. So there are two ways forward: a. paint the wardrobe and put everything into it, and b. chuck out everything that I haven't taken out of the wardrobe boxes - having not used them for a year and a half I clearly don't need them, thereby creating extra space in said wardrobe for new stuff.
Today I sanded and painted the wardrobe. Tomorrow I might chuck some stuff out (take it to the charity shop).

Number two: the ongoing battle Harriet vs Bluebottles
I thought it had subsided but they are back with a vengence the last few days. I've got more of those vapona window stickers - practically every window now. I'm tempted to put them on the glass lights they are attracted to in the evenings. I've also considerd getting one of those fly zapping things. I might need some powder or something to put through the floorboards. I don't quite feel like I'm winning yet. Its a bloody battle, if I were George Bush I'd be feeling like it was a raging success - very few casualties on my side (well none to be precise) - loads on the enemy side though.

Yellow Daffodils, Cream Daffodils

I rescued four pots of daffodils - cream ones - from Lidls today. Not in the best of shape (all weak from forced growing and underwatering) but at least the colour is certain. And at £1.49 per pot (about 6-7 bulbs in each pot) its not bad cost. I'm going to dig up the yellow interlopers and plant these instead (hopefully they'll come up better next year). So, now I'll have to find somewhere to put the yellow ones.

Morning Numbers

2 rock pigeons sitting on the fence together.
2 collared doves flying over to the cherry tree to perch.
6 magpies (6 for gold) gathering* in the top of the sycamore tree.
1 cat sitting on a shed roof craning his neck this way and that with a broad grin.

* Gathering of magpies can be referred to as a congregation, tiding or tittering. Also seen being called a gulp, a murder or a charm.

Blowy and Rainy

Its been a bit windy, spot of rain. Not as bad as on the coast mind. Nice weather for ducks. I like the look of London in theh rain - the reflective pavements, wet buildings, umbrellas.




Wind makes use of an umbrella very difficult. Better not to have a fold up one - fighting to keep them right way round, and trying to find a way to actually sheild the face from the onslaught of the rain. On the way to work clearly many people were losing their battle. More discarded umbrellas than I'd ever seen in place at one time.

Slick



Just the other day the thought struck me that I hadn't seen any oil slicks on the street for ages. Used to see them all the time - smudged across the street all irridescent rainbows brightening up the grey tarmac.

And then today at the bus stop, dreary grey day, cold and drizzling, on the way to do Saturday's chores, I looked down and there was one like a slipped eye of a peacock feather on the road.

Daffodils

The drift of cream daffodils I planted in the back of the garden has come up yellow. I can't tell you how dissapointed I am. I'm tempted to cut them for a bouquet. And I'm definitely moving them.

The Day before the Day off

Woke up early today, got up, ran a bath. Sat on the bed and watched the birds in the garden while it ran. Bathed, got dressed, ate breakfast, set off to work. Read book on the bus on the way to the tube. Stood between Seven Sisters and Highbury & Islington. Swapped onto the train platform to catch a train to Moorgate - train came in a minute later. Got a seat. Read book to Moorgate. Swapped to Northern Line. Stood from Moorgate to London Bridge. Changed onto the overground at London Bridge. Didn't mind the walk between the tube and the train station - haven't done it in a while (it's no longer my regular route to work). Bad smell of meat pies in the tunnel. Caught the 9.37 to Peckham Rye. Walked past the church of Reverend Frog Orr - his iris' were in bloom already - beautiful but seemed a little early. Walked down to Bellenden - the antiquities shop wasn't open yet (they have nice pine doors, bathtubs with feet, outdoor pots).

First meeting of day.

Came out, sun was shining. Checked the bus across the street from the meeting venue, the bus didn't stop where I needed it to. Walked up to Rye Lane. Bought a dreary sandwich in Gregs. Waited for a P12 bus. Finally it came. Sat on the bus. Concerned that it took a very winding route, lost confidence that it would take me where I needed to go. Finally past the Bonsai tree shop - closer to destination. Recognised the roundabout. Was relieved.

Second meeting of the day.

Got out early, sat in the park and ate my sandwich by the bandstand. It was painted black and white - its roof was like a hat. No band played. Sun dappled through the bare branches of the trees. People walked dogs. A scraggy yorkshire terrier sniffed my shoe. Owner calls it away. Catch a 381 to my next meeting. Arrive half an hour later.

Third meeting of day.

Left work after the meeting. Caught a bus to Waterloo bridge. Caught a 341 to Angel. Past my old school. There's a gardens in front of it with an angel statue - wings and arms raised. The flats behind the gardens have been painted. Two carribean women behind me discussed what they were - they plumped for a Holiday Inn. A girl in my class at school lived in them. They were small inside. She had the most popular dad - he was a fireman and came on lots of our school trips because his shift pattern made him available. On top end of St John's Street we passed the row of buildings that has been redecorated. These are grand buildings, generously proportioned, large windows. I daydream that I had enough money to buy one - I get a comforting sense of coming home - my first decade was spent living here. But I wouldn't get as good a garden as I have now. Change buses at Angel. Catch a no.19 down to City & Islington College Finsbury Park Centre at bottom end of Blackstock Road.

Ceramics class.
Turned the bowl I threw at the last class. It didn't turn out too badly. Discovered a wheel with a manually operated peddle. Threw four more small pots using it - liked the control that was possible with this wheel. Had to be sort of at one with it - pumping the peddle to make the wheel spin at different speeds and controlling the clay (difficult at the best of times - I'm finding). The pots I'm making are not exactly brilliant, not even beautiful. But they are what they are. Probably improve with glazing, hopefully.

After class I buy cholla bread at the Happening Bagel Bakery and catch a 259 to Seven Sisters. I'm talking to Susanna on the phone when I get on. I've got the phone in one hand, my handbag, work bag and a bag of bread in the other. I hold on with two fingers. Behind me I find one of my neighbours is standing there. He likes to chat to me but he creeps me out a little bit. When I get off the phone we exchange pleasantries. I get off at Seven Sisters and go in the supermarket. I buy milk, yoghurt and some flowers. Flowers because its a long wekend and I'll be at home for 3 days to appreciate them. They are yellow and orange, tightly wrapped petals. I walk up to the Swan where I have a choice of two buses. As I'm walking up I miss one of them. By the time I get to the stop the timer says the other one is due in 2 minutes. The bus pulls up, I get on, we whizz past the remaining stops. I get off - they've repaved the pavement around the bus stop - its sandy and neat, larger paving stones than before.

Finally I am home again. I lock the door behind me and turn on ER. I'm exhausted. Really glad to have an extra day this weekend.

Bus Journey - a photo story






No. 35 from Walworth Road, 2 stops from Elephant and Castle, to Shoreditch. Dusk falling.

Earthquake

Well despite being substantially closer to the epicentre of last nights earthquake (being in Coventry for the last time) I felt nothing. Only one of the participants did - she had been awake at 1.00am (despite us having an 8.45am start - which seems unholy early to me, but a whole half hour later than tomorrow). Woke up this morning to Midland News interviewing all sorts of people who had felt huge shudders and heard wind whistling noises and loud bangs and ran out of their houses in their pajamas to find their chimney stacks falling or precarious.

Dad always told me that if there is an earthquake you should stand in a doorway (the mantle will protect you) - you shouldn't run out in the street - falling debris may hit you. He and mum were once in a sky scraper in the states when an earthquake hit - they said the world swung back and forth at an alarm angle but they were most upset because they hadn't realised there was a survivors party going on in the basement.

I remember the previous earthquake to hit - it was about 9 years ago - I lay in bed thinking that I was being shaken in the bed by a train going past - it just kept going and going. I rolled back and forth and then fell asleep. It was only in the morning that I found out what it had been. There had been no sound time - we must have been far from the epicentre. Its just not something that happens in Britain!

Sunset



There are pictures that a camera just can't capture. Like this one. They have to be experienced and remembered rather than snapshotted. The sky was almost entirely graduated in a deep thick orangy hue - orange verging on red with pink undertones. The colour of red grapefruit. Its gradually sank down to the horizon as the dark decended. On the bus on the way home a glimpse of the roundabout - a tower block framed perfectly against a orange sky background. No clouds. The camera can't do it justice.

Ceramics Class



This doll's head cast was freaking people out all week as it sat on the finished items shelf waiting to be collected. Slip casting isn't really like proper pottery making but it has some interesting possiblities - makes a very sharp image. Slip (runny clay) is poured into a plaster mould and left to collect sediment. After a couple of hours the wet stuff is poured away and the sediment that has settled is left behind in the form of the plaster mould. As it dries it peels away from the mould and you can bring it out. This mould was in two bits and I had to slurry them together (not a perfect fit). Glazed it in honey (v shiny and brown). A bit freaky! I'm thinking about making a set - could mount them on stakes, or perhaps stick them together in some way.

Dreaming again

Travelling round India with two girls, sort of. Washing in public bathrooms. They had a male travelling companion who was sometimes with us and sometimes off doing his own thing.

Was swimming in a pool in a hotel, but not the hotel where I was staying... A beardy friend, his girlfriend and I were walking home - they were showing me a shortcut and I was suprised to find the pool so close to our accomodation. We stopped in a restaurant/bar and sat down. They had British tea [weird blends that seemed very specialist] like Brighton Tips [this was something we knew and were suprised that a foreign country was serving it]. We decided to have pot of it. A couple of English tourists sat down at our table and we had a conversation about tea. Then Morgan Freeman and his wife came and sat at our table with their drinks (alcholoic drinks). I was saying, "now thats more like it", and he said, "yes you English people make me crazy with all your tea!".

Dream

Standing at a bus stop where Philip Lane and West Green Road converge, wearing a towel turban on my wet hair and another towel wrapped around my body. I had to keep readjusting it so it didin't drop off.

(I get concerned when I get these very vivid anxiety dreams - they're telling me something but I'm not always sure what exactly it is).

Camden Town Burning

Camden Town Fire Aftermath
Originally uploaded by Jeff Galasso

BBC news - camden town fire
Londonist - camden town fire
FLickr Camden Fire Pool

I haven't been there for a really long time but there was a time when Camden Town was a destination of choice every weekend - looking for shoes, clothes, jewellery, hair dye, music, clubs, drinking venues, boys - it was the place. There were punks, goths, weirdos, every type of alternative person you could hope to find. Definitely a place where everyone was included in rather than being excluded out. Before the lock market was as big and as commercial as it is today. There weren't any stables or catacombs. I would stroll through the clothes market closest to the tube station, through the tightly packed stalls, clothes flicking back in your face from someone ahead of you, up and down until finally released back onto the high street. Then up the street over the canal and into the canal-side market. Prince opened a shop on the high street, he ordered it to be painted purple but someone had already painted a building in Prince purple so it had to be a pinker colour - to be a little bit original. Later on the market expansion up to the stables and under the railway arches and the increasing number of tourists led to a change in the type of things being sold - less alternative clothing, more things. Second hand and antiques started coming in. A techno clothes shop with ultraviolet lamps and clothes with lights on them. I stopped going when I stopped wearing those kinds of clothes. Every once in a blue moon I got down to look at the furniture and house stuff. Last time I went I was looking for chandeliers - spent quite a bit of time in the catacombes and stables area, missed out the touristy bits altogether.

Shocking to see the flames licking into the air over the buildings on the news yesterday night. Can't quite get a handle on how much of it was engulfed.

Six Word Memoires

I think this has done the rounds before but I'd forgotten about it - someone at work reminded me of it this week. A life story in six words. What would your's say?

I'm thinking:

• sleep, communute, work, communute, sleep, commute...
• Art. Sex. Job. Career. House. Bored.

Don't think I've cracked it yet - its a bit gloomy!

Spotted

Maquita Oliver in the Grocery in Shoreditch, with pals, buying a trolley load of beer, 4 bottles of wine, a whisk, maple syrup, eggs and milk. That'll be a pancakes & beer party then. Not the traditional lemon and sugar either. Not sure maple syrup is really appropriate on pancake day, although colleagues at work were disagreeing. They were also suprising me greatly by confessing to using pancake mix. It took me 5 measily minutes to make my own batter from scratch. Not a lump in it either. Reminds me of my sister's brownie cake-making badge - they used cake mixes in her pack (really don't think that was within the rules).

Sid

Happened across the Dwyers. There are two of them. Both have photographs on their profile that couldn't be classed as 'official', in a work capacity, as it were. Most SID (staff internal directory) profile pictures are horrible head and shoulders shots against monotone grey backgrounds taken by non-photographers in very unflattering light. Makes all the subjects look like extras in the Adams Family, when in real life our staff are much more human.

Anyway I digress, back to the Dwyers. One picture has a boy dressed as spiderman and a woman dressed as Zoro on their way to a fancy dress party. The other picture is of two people either on the bath or perhaps at a foam party (I'm leaning towards the foam party) - a woman and a man, unclear whether they are wearing clothes, sticking their tongues out at the camera (her's is pierced). Party animals these Dwyers.

Out of interest looking at what other photos people were loading up - nothing to compete it has to be said but one very elegant cat, and another is a pair of scotty dogs.

Politicians of the people

Passed Parliament on the bus today - all lit up, sort of serious gothic palace. Thought about Henry Conway holding his birthday bash there - all hooray henries and henriettas gaffawing through the hallowed halls. Most inappropriate use of a government building.

Passing Downing Street - it looks like any other Georgian street on the TV - never shows the huge wrought iron gates and guards at the Whitehall end. A fortress.

Politicians are increasingly removed from their constituants and voting public. Their lives bare little resemblence to our lives. Its a closed club. They forget their accountability and get sunk into party politics. Is it any wonder that we mistrust them so much.