to the british museum

bart simpson ?

dawn at the putney bridge bus stop

pensive lions in the fulham road

waiting for the concert to begin at the V&A

somewhat ostentatious ... norwegian wood at the V&A

the south downs behind brighton

on the beach at climping

candle light, twilight, my favourite mug, and a souvenir cava cork from a fabulous meal behind a very ordinary bar in asturias

admiralty arch and admiralty house at sunset

gas lights ( and others ) in the mall

electric lights in the mall

looking north from waterloo place towards piccadilly circus

photo by persons unknown of my sister v at work

woods in surrey

Maybe It's Because I Ain't A Londoner ...

…that I have yet to integrate fully with the Shed Enders.

When, O when will I begin to sound like a native ?

I try & I try.

“Gor blimey, love a duck, … my incipient nocturnal hyper-active attention-deficit disorder ain’t ‘arf givin me gyp”.

a sunny day at tate britain

i first heard this in 1982 ... at the dug out in bristol

truly terrible french tv ...

charming song

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ydk8pU8BbNM&mode=related&search=

rye bread with apricots & a banana

dawdling on the way home from the bus stop

W. H. Davies
Leisure

WHAT is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare?—
No time to stand beneath the boughs,

And stare as long as sheep and cows:
No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:
No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night:
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance:
No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began?
A poor life this if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

my other companion