More photos from my time in Co Derry earlier this month. The forecast when i looked before packing as for rain, more rain, and rain after that. As you’ll see that was not a wholly accurate prediction.
MasterB is fully recovered from his anaesthetic, and the fur on his throat is beginning to grow back.
He’s not so keen on the return of the hot weather. We enjoyed two days of lower temperatures and I assumed wrongly that summer would resume a more reasonable temperate course. The humidity builds up, and you think there’s going to be a storm, but then the winds come along and blow the humidity away leaving us with more temperatures in the high 20s and low 30s. Too hot for central London, and a country where we are ill equipped for extremes of weather.
I am starting to fantasise about rain; proper rain, though a good long shower to soak the earth and freshen the air would do. We haven’t had rain here since 28th May. And it would be really nice to have day off from watering the plants.
Some of the Ginger Ninja calendars are arriving in their new homes.
What a lovely surprise! I opened (the envelope) to see an exquisite ginger pusscat. You can imagine the squeals of delight as I looked at each month of the Ginger Ninja’s portraits!! Breaking my rule of not looking at calendar pix until each month is reached. O, what a gorgeous boy he is …. that profile ….. those eyes. And he must live on a boat? Your lucky friend is a good photographer too to catch so many btfl images of him – the male model 2017!
Thank you so much – the most perfect present.
It’s almost here. Some adjustments after feedback from Pix, and it’s off to the printer tomorrow.
The coach left at 8.45am so there was no late breakfast on Saturday morning. It was great to have a day away immediately after returning from das Boot, and this one was arranged months ago, a charabanc outing to Harwich and Dedham with the local archaeological society.
As we among the last on the coach we didn’t get to sit together, but we both found congenial travel companions who added to the day’s enjoyment. I was, unsurprisingly, eager to use the facilities when we arrived at Harwich where coffee tea and cake awaited us at the second oldest building in the town. It turned to be facility. Singular in more ways than one, in that it was a little hut outside at the back of the building.
The only times I have been to Harwich before have been to take the ferry to Hook of Holland, and I have never seen anything of the town. I knew it was a town that has suffered from the loss of the Royal Navy presence and reduced port activity, so I was expecting a rather down at heel feel. But it felt contented, arty crafty, quirky, and quite comfortable with itself.
The rain is being thrown against the windows tonight, but this morning was glorious, and a windy day meant even the heaviest washing on the line dried thoroughly.
Celia and I set off from the Elysian fields of sunny Walworth to visit the not so deep south where Denmark Hill meets Herne Hill. There are roads leading off the main road that we only ever seem to see from the bus. Time for some initial explorations. En route we passed the site of a newly demolished house. It reminded us of bombsites. This fireplace was presumably blocked up and the grate left undisturbed for decades until the house was pulled down. It looks like the sticks that had been placed in it for a fire that was never lit were also immured. My guess is it will end up in an antique shop somewhere and fetch a tidy sum.
It would be ironic if the purchaser were one of those incomers who have just realised that south east London’s grittiness suddenly flavour of the month.
I needed the loo, so we diverted to the newest local library. My preoccupation with my bladder may explain why I didn’t photograph the exterior. There are some historic items in the foyer, including this one celebrating the number of local men who signed up to fight in the First world war. It was hours later before I thought to wonder if my great uncles were among them.
An appropriate challenge, as I have been a little time away from my page, busy with funeral arrangements and other responsibilities.
Snow in abundance on America’s east coast. In London, our brief cold snap has gone and it feels like spring. Celia and I went out for a walk this afternoon. It had been sunny this morning and we softened the butter to have with our lunch of bread and soup on the window sill.
But by the time we went out, the clouds were banking up, so the skies in my pictures from today are grey.
We walked from Waterloo Bridge along the south side of the river, past the National Theatre to Gabriel’s Wharf where a magnificent treehouse was being constructed to promote Virgin Holidays. Apparently it’s only going to be there for a week.