we'll go no more a roving

 

george iv looking unconscionably smug

 

one of my favourite lamp-posts

 

posh monogram on a brighton pillar box

 

we went to a tea party ... there were nice guests such as david and eejay, real bone china teacups, and real cucumber sandwiches with no crusts

 

pocket money

i remember when ...

it cost seven pence old money to get in to the athelstan cinema on a saturday afternoon

for which you saw

1. the trailers

2. if you were lucky, a western in colour starring james stewart or roy rogers or whoever ...

3. a serial, most of which were black and white pre-war stuff like flash gordon, and all of which ended with the clash of cymbals and the same words every time ...

"see next week's exciting episode !"

sometimes i dream that i'm playing soccer again ...

in last night's dream i was part of a village team that was assembling in a churchyard amongst the tombs and memorials

to our great discomfort it turned out that the opposition was going to be the italian world champions

we immediately sent the verger into the graveyard to create a few rough patches with a fork, hoping to even things up a little

but from the first moment of the match we played very badly ... and then i woke just as canavaro was about to shoot

window in memory of octavia hill at crockham hill church

inner and outer doors at crockham hill church

 

rusty and trusty at the back of crockham hill church

putney savannah

 

putney fisher women bring in their catch

 

the great blue yonder ... who can resist the water's calling

 

come now, watson ! it seems clear to me that the missing swimmer is a cheese driver ...

 

calvin thomas ...

... is an artist who lives in canyon de chelly, arizona ... actually in the canyon itself

we met him on a frosty spring morning, just after he'd climbed up a narrow path among the sheer cliffs

this piece of sandstone from the valley floor is painted with an unusual restrained palette, compared to most of the touristy stuff sold at the canyon's edge

calvin thomas himself was a very quiet person

we liked him very much

two's company

arthur likes to keep an eye on me whilst i'm up the ladder

lavender, beaten down by the rain

 

principles and cigarette packets

it would be interesting know if there are any british politicians who might essay a list of their guiding principles on the back of a cigarette packet

over to you, "yo blair"

sylvia's rose

i stopped to smell this rose in eccles road, battersea, this afternoon

my mother planted the same sort around nineteen-sixty

then the scent reminded me of apples

now it reminds me of her

 

anarchy in the uk, on the marina wall at brighton