Dear readers, you’ll be relieved to hear I prepared an acceptance speech and left it on the London Underground. Three years of WordPressing – a lot of fun and a great deal of hard work. Pretty pictures don’t make themselves, but if they did, they might be a bit less over-saturated. I hope this little blog brightens your day in some small way. Cheers and thanks for following.
The park on Beech Road, blooming.
Pavement mosaic, Chorltonville. For Pagan rituals on the hop…
We checked out the local Vintage Craft fair at the church hall. Unfortunately more shabby than Shabby Chic.
Message to da kidz in da Park on Beech Road, an occasional gangsta haunt.
Waking up in the spring sunshine, stepping onto the balcony of my Nash terrace in one of London’s more exclusive squares, is a moment to savour. Until room service reminds me I have to check out. Set camera to Stun.
The architecture of London is arresting, diverse and chaotic. Baroque and Brutalist, side by side. I can’t turn a corner without snapping away. I’m a tourist who stops traffic to get the perfect view, carrying a legal disclaimer for the police (written by the police) in case anyone tries to interfere.
Just a couple of days in the capital, a surprise whistle-stop tour.
It’s so hot on Oxford Street, we buy chilled coconuts and drink the milk through a straw. Luxury in the dust! The sun sets on Soho Square, and we have to make our way back to Manchester. For all the noise and chaos, London is a difficult city to leave.
Rainbows, downpours and sunshine. March hares are jumping. Shooting buds and rising sap. I feel like Tigger. Happy Ostara, the return of the sun. Forget easter with the naked guy in the diaper and all those creepy Cross People. Just celebrate nature.
There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile.
He found a crooked sixpence upon a crooked stile.
He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse,
And they all lived together in a little crooked house.
Look, everyone! Pretty new things! Anything to distract you from the worst government in British history. Should I submit my George Osborne update for the new one pound coin to The Royal Mint?