a deeper meaning

OK guys and gals, we have the next installation of my earwagging on the streets…

And then we have exactly the same table but with him dying first

Are you taking Miranda to golf?

It’s like when frogs try to cross

We’re good people and we’re moved by something bigger

Now that was a castle

I managed to shop for the first time in my life and I was like, I’m gonna die!

They’re stuck together with jam

“They can speak all the languages.” “That’s good.”

So what do you need from us…oh, you want tickets. And PANCAKES? You want tickets AND pancakes?

What we need is some chefs on instagram with a fish dish

So you’re still fun, but more focused

Nowadays every guy and his gal in shoreditch have a face tattoo, but as far as I’m concerned, unless you’ve killed at least two people you can’t do that. And I’m like, mate, you’re probably from Cambridge…

It’s just an allegation

It turns out he worked quite a lot

Did they have lots of COFFINS in the summer? What? Oh, I thought you’d have remembered that.

He’s off his tits on broccoli. (Ok – admittedly that was anyone who overheard me having a particular conversation with my mum.)

Well, it’s not the best banana.

What can I say? It is a shame (link to full story here)

Fifteen clarinets playing at once: it’s terrible.

It was so, so disgusting.

How long was Gerrard at the buffet?

Hi Dad, er…essentially I need to borrow 24 quid.

“So before they get here, anything I should know?”

“Henry’s having an affair.”

“I thought you’d say that.”

Enjoy is a soft word, I would say love.

Colours everywhere

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Cycling through the Dulwich Picture Gallery again (the first place I saw a painting and thought, I LIKE that), I saw the excellent Edward Bawden exhibition and also enjoyed the latest reshuffle of the main collection.

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The siderooms off the main corridor haven’t changed hugely, to my satisfaction – there’s still a Poussin room, there’s still dutch landscapes with a smattering of Rembrandt’s – but there’s also something new: an 18th century portrait given a new corner to shine in; a repaint in bright yellow from grey panels from green brocade; a room with close up analysis of a Tiepolo.

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Always worth a visit! All photos August 2018.

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Festival moods

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If in May the first music festivals come out, by late June / July it’s definitely the turn of the literary circuit and the London season seems fully underway as the talking set’s removal to various parks and country houses coincide with racing, cricket and tennis.

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The one I did get to (thank you C) was the Queen’s Park literary festival where I went 100% fangirl at seeing Zadie Smith speak. But next year I’m saving time for the Garden Museum’s weekend (topics ranging from Elizabethan knot gardens to foraging)

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and The Idler also had a splendidly louche-sounding weekend booked in at Fenton House earlier this year. Not a tent in sight, let alone a portaloo…

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Frilled linen

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And then, opening her eyes, how fresh, like frilled linen clean from a laundry laid in wicker trays, the roses looked; and dark and prom the red carnations, holding their heads up; and all the sweet peas spreading in their bowls, tinged violet, snow white, pale – as if it were the evening and girls in muslin frocks cane out to pick sweet peas and roses after the superb summer’s day

Mrs Dalloway buying the flowers herself, and the very much not-for-sale roses in Regebt’s Park.

Eavesdropping

Eavesdropping on the streets of London, Luton and Oxford again…

I got a lolly and an ice-cream and pizza!!!! (6 year old with a rising volume of excitement)

Ah man, my dad just bought a gold mine

So my friend, King George

She has a trust fund but she’s my best friend still

I thought, if you think I have any common feeling or resemblance with that woman, you really don’t know me at all

That sushi was nowhere near as refreshing as I’d expected. It was just so ricey.

Mummy, do you want my burnt potato?

“I think I’d just do what Mr Darcy did” “yeah, we had that conversation”

I mean how’s it’s going to work out? You’re married and he has a girlfriend.

Yes his jury service has been cancelled – I think they looked at his face and decided they didn’t like him.

He’s a bit of a tiger in the house, you know.

It’s a real pain – you have to bring your own bottle and you can’t get really trashed

We never really have a conversation – it’s just chat.

So my mate had done it before and said you really had to have a vegetable before leaving Sweden, so I got a taxi…

Westminster Abbey

From a fun day playing tourist in my own city. If I’m honest, I don’t think that the Abbey gives the best experience – you’re squeezed round a pre-set, tightly-cordened route like being shoved through a toothpaste tube and photos are strictly forbidden.

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Worst of all, the atmosphere was one of prissy disapproval, which I found rather disappointing when each tourist is being charged at least £20 to get in. Yes, there’s an important balance to be struck between a place of worship and a tourist attraction but – with the exception of some kindly volunteers – the clergy here seemed to have a strong “hands off our abbey, aren’t you lucky we let you in” approach written all over them. Very disappointing.

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You would at least hope that there was an acceptance that any visitors were prepared to be interested and respectful, otherwise they’d hardly have queued up for an hour to get in. I’d be interested to know what out of town visitors think.

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However, being as stubborn as they come, I did get some photos thank you…

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The most interesting parts I thought were the side chapels of various noble families (which still had a pre-Reformation feel of jostling for position near the altar) and the main chapel behind the altar.

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All photos May 2018.