Springtime, London
I took this with my ‘phone today, at lunchtime.
The Palace of Westminster from St Thomas' Hospital
The Bathroom Tulips
I don’t think I have ever had tulips that opened this wide before.
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A Wet Cold Afternoon in London
I’ve not been writing much here or on other blogs for a few days for a couple of reasons. Firstly, work seems to have gone into hyper mode since my little Irish break, and secondly because I have been experiencing excruciating shooting pains in my right arm.
I saw the doctor tonight. She reassured me that my foot is on the mend, and the hot feeling I am getting in it from time to time is nothing to worry about. As to my arm, the Ibuprofen I am taking for my foot should also help, and I should refrain from typing (!) as far as possible. Both conditions will sort themselves out in the fulness of time, especially with rest. Which means I am not going to be writing much here or anywhere else for a little while.
However, to celebrate the news that I am not about to have to face up to a life of immobility, a little post with words tonight.
I had a few minutes to kill in the City today. It was raining, but I wanted some air, so I sat under a tree in St Dunstan’s, ate an excellent sandwich from Cooper’s on Eastcheap and took a couple of pix before rain stopped play.
Notice the pigeons sheltering in the first pic.
I’m sure this morning’s forecast was for another mild day. It was damn cold. I left St Dunstan’s for St Margaret Pattens. City churches names tend to be double-barrelled as there are so many with the same dedication. Pattens were things people used to wear to lift them up from the filth and mire of the street. They were made nearby. There used to be a sign in the church asking members of the congregation to remove them before going in. I couldn’t see it, but they did have some pattens on display.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Down
Yellow Tulips
On Friday, they were like sentinels, but that didn’t last long.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/02/17/weekly-photo-challenge-down/
Black and White
No visit to Cousin’s would be complete without a photo of the Big Cat. Black and white, she provides the theme for this post. Here she is, comfortable behind the towels in the bathroom.
Comfortable
Her canine tormentor, again.
What's Happening?
The traditional cottage where a friend of Cousin’s lives, from an oblique angle as there were cars outside.
Cottage
The plaque that tells when it was built.
1743
Heat Wave
Ooh that Penelope Lively, she’s good. I just lost an hour or more to reading Heat Wave. Spare descriptions; clear prose; an ear for dialogue and the importance of things said and unsaid; an eye. I feel I have travelled the whole journey from spring to late summer, watching Luke and the wheat grow, seeing Teresa suffer and Pauline relive her memories while hoping for better for her daughter. I have met Maurice and Carol and found them wanting. Harry was never all he cracked himself up to be, while Hugh is considerably more than he seems, and James does not deserve to be treated so badly.
I am still at World’s End, outside the now closed doors, looking across the twenty acre field with its straw bales still and waiting. Such is the power of good writing to transport a reader, to build and maintain a world that seems so real, it is hard to understand that the last page is really the last, that Mr Chaundy will not be casting a dismissive eye over the next people to own this house, and that the weather forecasting postman does not exist outside the pages of this novel.
Moving the Goalposts
I wanted to retire at thirty-five. It didn’t happen. A few years later, I became restless, wanting to try something new, and swapped my permanent, full-time job for a mix of short-term, part-time contracts and study.
The move left me financially less well off, but with a much greater sense of freedom. It also screwed up my work pension, particularly as part-timers were opted out unless they said they wanted otherwise, and I didn’t realise.
However, my state pension was due when I turned sixty. Then the goalposts were moved. First I learned that I should have to work until sixty-five, now it’s sixty-six, and before long it’ll probably be sixty-seven. It may go on increasing. someone from the DWP told me it will probably move to seventy as soon as the government can manage. (more…)
Reunited
I’ve had a great break at my cousin’s and it is nice to be home again. In an hour I’ll be able to collect the ginger ninja from the cattery. I’ve bought him a new biscuit ball and play tunnel, but having a cuddle is going to be the best bit. I expect he’ll want to go climbing outside and have some energetic play.
Can’t wait…
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