Monday, April 09, 2007

Friday, April 06, 2007

3bt

Yesterday morning, tiptoeing out to work at three forty-five, I forgot to take my camera. Naturally, I was assailed by beauty.

Driving west along the Chelsea embankment at six, in a clear still morning, the gold of the Battersea peace pagoda was reflected in a vertical yellow band upon the high surface of the smooth river, and beside it was the pale orange reflection of the setting moon, & as I drove further, so the two reflections gently swapped places as the moon's orange reflection, in pursuing me, overtook that of the pagoda.

Later, during a delivery in the precincts of the Chelsea football stadium, I found a long rough wall was being clad in a vinyl poster ... a massive team photo, the players at the centre, their bodies then repeatedly “photoshopped” ad infinitum to right and left, superimposed with the heads of hundreds of their supporters. In front of this larger than life-sized and perpetually silent audience, two coach loads of schoolchildren from France had just arrived, adolescent girls & boys, they had poured out of their confinement with a football & were playing their own beautiful impromptu game of soccer in the sunshine.

As I was going home on the bus, drained of energy after a difficult day, a lively teenage girl got on with a brand new push chair and a brand new baby. Sitting in the next seat, sharply profiled in the late low sunlight, she lifted him in her arms and kissed his tiny face, smaller than my fist, about twenty times, alternately on one cheek and then the other. He accepted the compliment with good grace.

whitehall 1212


legitimizing empire ... more imperialist clichés
















Thursday, April 05, 2007

Monday, April 02, 2007

i dreamed about my parents ...

i think our dreams only take a few seconds to happen, even when they seem long & complicated

in this one, i was walking in a sunlit park with an unseen friend, besides a large level expanse of lawn backed by dark trees

i caught sight of my parents walking side-by-side across the grass & looking very happy & relaxed

surprisingly, they looked younger, perhaps in their early forties, and rather prosperous ... well-dressed & well groomed

and i said to my invisible friend something like ...

"i know they are only ghosts, but would you mind if we just stop and watch them until they fade away ?"

i'm rarther fond of signal boxes ... bollo lane junction & level crossing


Friday, March 30, 2007

advanced diagnosis exercises

Q At what point might the patient first have questioned his own sanity ?

A The patient, X, was seen cooking some expensive pork sausages on a Friday evening.

He was then observed searching his fridge for HP Sauce.

Finding none, he was heard speaking in a re-assuring tone, although no one else was present, uttering the words,

"I suppose a little Branston Pickle never did any one any harm !"

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

does garlic have an extensive psychopharmacological literature, major tom ?


passing battersea power station on the way to work ... a thought occurred ...

might it be possible, if the developers aren't in any hurry, for wandsworth to compulsorily re-possess this site at the ridiculous price they sold it for and to devote it to public housing ?

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

the price of fish


waiting in the line at john's mobile fish stall in the village of horsted keynes last friday morning
sez little old well-heeled lady, a poor imitation of the queen's lady-in-waiting ... "i'll have blah blah blah, please ... er, um, is it expensive ?"
sez wheezy old cockney john, voice deeper than the northern line, a sweet man who should have retired fifteen years ago ... "all my fish is expensive madam, because i only buy the best !"
and he does !

sussex before sunrise


Monday, March 26, 2007

sparrers carnt sing


a couple of weeks ago we were driving around the north terminal at gatwick and we were late for check-in

avis had forgotten to say that their north terminal car rental base no longer exists

trying not to panic after three fruitless circuits, we were back in a lengthening queue at a manic roundabout

from the corner of my eye & through the open window, i saw, on the verge, in a tiny triangle of verdure, a little brown bird that crouched and glared at me, almost close enough to touch, whilst pure & penetrating music gushed from his throat

not a sparrow, but a skylark !

what better omen for the start of a memorable holiday ?