Canterbury has more than its fair share of people roamng the streets on a sunny summers day. I often shy away from areas that are clearly main attractions during their busy hours. I’m drawn down the empty streets and alleys. Generally empty streets are not lined with shops, museums or cathedrals. Often they do provide other pleasant suprises. This is one of the alleyways thay pulled me from the busy streets of beautiful Canterbury.
Down one such alleyway I found this fabulous rivebank restaurant, disguised as a stone shed, with few windows with flag-stone floors, old beamed ceilings, a charming French waitress, an excellent menu and no other customers.
Eric, Neverland with a picture of Matrix and a Swedish speaking Florence joined me for a delectable meal.
In the UK an MP’s income is a salary plus expenses‘necessarilyincurred for the performance of a Member’s parliamentary duties’ . MP’s understanding of expenses appears to be equivalent to my notion of a salary, that is, spent on anything that supports your preferred lifestyle. Expenses have been paid to conservative MPs to cover moat cleaning, buying chandaliers, mending tennis-court water-pipes, Piano tuning, gardening, Island homes for ducks, changing lightbulbs, and swimming-pool servicing.
Newspapers covering the Bill Cash expenses exposure have avoided commenting on his name, so I’ll avoid it too.
My pink leapordprint mini-dress was a tad anachronistic in the quaint leafy streets of Burford. Families of pleasant, conservately dressed people wandered in an out of stores selling expensive clothes, kitchenware, art and antiques.
My attraction to antique stores was aligned with the other people, crowds, that had accepted the pilgramage to Burford.
I prayed in the antique fair, strolled around the churchard then settled in the tea rooms. On the journey I caught the sunshine and smiles.
lots of pollards line the streets of quaint little English villages. Apparantly, pollards maintain a partially juvenille state, living longer than maiden trees. I wonder if haircuts work in the same way for humans?
A wealth of green leafy blooming conker trees in the spring showers and sunshine hail the arrival of competitive conker activities where naughty cheater might resort to soaking said conkers in vinegar or hardening them by cooking them in the oven. One-ers, two-ers, and more, champion conkers paraded and gawped-at performing in play grounds, fields and gardens. The sound of conker on conker is as English as leather on willow.
A few years ago, I used to see this group of children playing in front of my building, and there was one of them, whose name was Luka, who seemed a little bit distinctive from the other children. I always remembered his name, and I always remembered his face, and I didn’t know much about him, but he just seemed set apart from these other children that I would see playing. And his character is what I based the song Luka on. In the song, the boy Luka is an abused child — in real life I don’t think he was. I think he was just different Suzanne Vega
There is a branding, marketing, styling opportunity in the tea-cosey market which is woefully or wonderfully underdeveloped depending on your perspective. This collection didn’t prompt me to part with £5.37
My main tea-cosey was hand-made by my talented sister-in-law. My name is sewn on the inside incase a moment of scattiness leads to my losing it (the tea cosey). It fits on my head as snug as a custom-made hat. That kind of personal tailoring does take some beating and these shop displayed tea coseys just aren’t up to par.
They are sold by Screwfix. Whereas Diamond Back USA sell toolbelts. One day I’ll treat myself to my very own toolbelt, and hang around my house with a powertool or two in it.
2am
Cemetery junction
Heards of black taxi’s rumbling by
Smaller, colourful, cabs weave between them
Heels clicking, skirts, hair and make-up readjusted
Bright laughter and flourescent light waft from the rows of fast food shops
sometimes I feel wonderfully invisible in the bustling crowds as I wander the Reading streets at night
I’m not so environmentally friendly since I paired up with Thomas. On the otherhand, I’m not using a jet to get around. With the exception of a classic cathode ray tube, few things are actually back and white.
Thomas and I will be going places without relying on Flat Eric’s inspired if not route-bound navigational advice. Florence has joined us, Florence is a nüvi® 200 satelitte navigation thingy that was pleasantly easy to turn on and use straight out of the box.
“If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it“
chorus from ‘Single Ladies (Put a Ring on it)’ by Beyonce Knowles
Is Beyonce singing about
mobile phone ringtones?
a runnaway bullock that wasn’t tethered securely by a nose-ring?
a single lady, as the song title implies?
What a plucky lady Beyonce is, if she isn’t treated well (which appears to be equated with being invited to be a wife) then she moves on to find another chap who pressumably might ‘put a ring on it’. Why does Beyonce appear to refer to herself as an ‘it’ that should be tethered by the putting of a ring? Even with her plucky ‘I can find myself another man’ attitude she still appears tied to the idea of being a male’s chattels.
A large hornet (2 inches) found its way into my bedroom. I didn’t know it was a hornet. They look scarey. I panicked, squeaked, opened the bedroom windows, wrapped myself in a curtain and wafted the corner of the curtain at the hornet until it took the hint and left via the window.
Beltane is the name for the gaelic, pre-christian, celebrations of a day halfway between mid spring (equinox) and mid summer (solstice), normally between May 4th and 11th. The children of Woodlands junior school describe the current manifestation of May day in their own charming way.
Words of wisdom from an almost stranger*. in this case one of my neighbours when I was returning my front door key after I’d locked myself out for the 4th time since moving in:
Don’t put a spare door key in your garden under a plant-pot. They’re always under plant pots… …ours is.
I am following this advice, and making regular trips round to my neighbours .
* past tips provided by Alan the hairdresser. Lucia the hairdresser, an anonymous manicurist, a Jackson’s sales assistant, a bus stop philanthropist, a mini salesman and Reading Police
England feels crowded compared to the NW US, even compared to New York. People brush against you as you pass them on the pavements, the tube staircases, mounting and dismounting the trains. The tube stations are warm and muggy laced with the stench of sweat, and its only April.
Sidewalk person-to-person collision avoidance weaving is required, not optional. Here in Leicester square, Alfred Gilbert’s statue of Eros has his own space above the crowds on the originally much maligned Shafetsbury memorial fountain from where he threatens passers-by with a dose of love, intended as a representation of christian charity.
The couple marry each other. No third party symbolic proxy as a represenative of a god. No-one gives the bride away. The couple make a public commitment to each other in a way that suits their own personal relationship with their god. Everyone shares meditative silence, interspersed with thoughts, poems and music as the spirit provides, followed by tea and cake. Then all the guests sign a wedding certificate for the couple to keep.
There is a fabulous peacefulness, equality and equanimity about the occassion.
The couple used a classic VW camper van to take them from the ceremony to the field that hosted the reception. The same camper van provided the bride and groom with a place to spend their wedding night.
In the reception field, a marquee tent hosted a blue grass band, bands with brass sections, inflatable chairs, and oodles of wedding guests. The field also hosted the guests tents, fireworks, fire and pathways of candles carved through the grass. During the fireworks I snuck off to keep warm by a fire where I was leant a much needed pair of long, black, thermal leg warmers. All around excellentness.
For all your wedding-guest transportation from church to reception veunue needs. A red London bus wedding special. As you can imagine, this was the highlight of the wedding for me.
The reception venue in a cricket pavilion, while a match was in progress, was also so wonderfully English that soppiness abounded.
Whilst concentrating on driving home through the outstanding Oxfordshire countryside I am everywhere-aware and nowhere. The journey lasts as long as a daydream, a CD, 15 Johnny Cash songs, 20 miles. Suprisingly, Thomas didn’t warm to Johnny Cash, on the other handbrake, Dusty definitely pumps his petrol Diesel.
Dusty Springfield bounced us to In the middle of nowhere
In a rare, mercifully quick, shopping moment I replaced 3 pairs of well-worn, too-small, skinny, hipster blue jeans with new jeans that:
fit
don’t break along the seams when tugged
say ‘not-a-soccer-mom’
tone with my ‘I’m-a-professional-person’ jackets
are not blue
chafe to the optimum temperature in all the right places and none of the wrong places
Way too much excitement for one day, I must lie down and breath slowly lest I become overwhelmed by it all. You all take care, don’t over exert yourselves, its tough out there and a well stitched pair of jeans can help keep things under control.
Two slim elderly gentleman rest their walking sticks as they wait to cross the road in downtown London. Flat caps keep their heads warm, cardigans sensibly cover their torsos in the cool spring sunshine. The modern office block in the background reflects the sun and current fashion.
Canterbury has more than its fair share of people roamng the streets on a sunny summers day. I often shy away from areas that are clearly main attractions during their busy hours. I’m drawn down the empty streets and alleys. Generally empty streets are not lined with shops, museums or cathedrals. Often they do provide other pleasant suprises. This is one of the alleyways thay pulled me from the busy streets of beautiful Canterbury.
Down one such alleyway I found this fabulous rivebank restaurant, disguised as a stone shed, with few windows with flag-stone floors, old beamed ceilings, a charming French waitress, an excellent menu and no other customers. 
Quaker 
