Eat the rich, high rent low rent

Carnaby street . I went to Oxford Circus to check out Christmas windows. I used the tube to get there. There was nothing remotely pleasant about either. London is depressed this year, the windows are sad. I had to use the loo so went to Liberty of London. Looked Around a bit , mostly because the toilet is on the third floor, common knowledge that Liberty is ridiculous…but beautiful. While on the stairs to the loo, I took photos from the windows.

This pale green, size twelve  women’s, frock caught my eye, probably for the wrong reasons. I thought is was a comical prop. It was on the “sale” rack for the equivalent of $1485.00 . The absurdity of said dress and the sale price is Liberty’s M O. 

Weirdest fabric, designed  by a three year old, most certainly, little wonder it was on the sale rack, for such a bargain of a price! Can you even imagine spending all of your reserve on this puff and actually having the questionable judgement to wear it to dinner? Comedy/ tragedy/ weirdo. 

Another dress that I thought was cute for a seven year old,  but in a womanly size- priced at a more reasonable $1,080.00….who buys this stuff? Obviously not we of sane body and mind.! I guess they are out there ,though, shopping madly ,and so, the world turns. I left, giving ten pounds to beggars outside, one had a cat. And one had a smile.

A walk down Regent street to catch the bus back to Brixton, where life feels grounded in reality and the fashion in the charity shops is so much better- imaginative, creative, Fresca knows! She is the queen of charity innovation and heart.  Working with what’s in front of you, working with what you are dealt.

Charity shops are the best. The art on the street for Christmas in Brixton is far more brilliant than the sad million dollar windows in the so-called fancy section of town.. Povo’s rule the day.

From Brixton I caught another bus back to Goose Green ( which sounds like a terrible color choice) , walked back to spidey hole in the dark. That adventure in high rent commercial London,  need never be repeated, I took one for the team… you never need to go there, you are welcome. 

Brixton  wins.
 

A little London walk

Boarding the the bus into town…everyone feeling festive?  Or maybe this fancy person dresses up everyday , celebrating  themself as well they should! I went to Saint Martin’s to buy two bars of soap, the best in the land! Intending to walk on up Haymarket I decided that turning a different  direction was more enticing.                          Unfamiliar ground . London is like that, any direction is a wonder  well worth exploration. Going back to my ho-Dee-do life will be a let down no doubt., plus there is all of that political shite , difficult to avoid, so, for now, I walk and bus contentedly, the politics of the UK are amusing . David Cameron is back, made a Lord  to get his foot in the door ,described as “a disappointed jacket potato ,too long in the microwave”, everyone bemused about the absurdity. So, yeah, not the existential dread that the United States faces.  Bland ,moist jacket potato - can not hold a candle to the evil doings in the United Stares Of  Bullshite- .No competition- USA wins.  Argentina is prettyfucked up but does not count, because it is not “a beacon”. Trump inspired the entire globe, just in time to make matters worse for the human species.  Brilliant. Well played , worst of human nature in action, well played…Shakespeare said it best. Paradigm stubborn. 

I went into SaintGiles because choral music was spilling out. The church isn’t much though I am sure it is historically  significant. I then meandered through SoHo. Square. Pretty little area, statue of Charles the second  stands in the center. A statue from early 1600 , once part of a fountain, now alone , weathered , repaired badly, but thoughtfully given a bottle of wine ,by some empathetic admirer.

This rocking horse was smooshed in between pews at Saint Giles. One of the only things of interest in the building , other than the choir.

Walking on…….sorry , this post is beginning to look like a school slide   report, “ what we did on our holiday and the things we did see”.

Ok ,I will stop now….but not until I take you back to the spider hole, through the neighborhood and back to a cup of tea. Pink jeep, uncommon sight. I peeked inside looking for “Just Ken.” No one there but the interior was leather and lovely , cream and pink delish!

Good day and good night. Thank you for walking with me.

                                 

Goose green , the church and pet cemetery

 Yesterday ,Sunday, I thought it would be a good opportunity to see the inside of St. John’s, the church on Goose Green. It was 9:30, after the morning mass , church open and empty. I wandered around, took a few photos, this one of a banner looked especially worthy- 

A few Mary’s, zero dead guys on a stick… a bright interior. Then a choir began their practice, sounded amazing. So I sat to listen for a while. Suddenly a woman was introducing herself as the vicar saying “ pleasure to have you here, welcome”, took my hands and smiled.well, it would be rude to leave, wouldn’t it? So I stayed . 

The church started its business. Music, hymns, prayers with excessive clouds of incense smoke billowing to the ceiling ,choking the congregation…was , could have been , lethal! Eyes burning, the church became a fog . Ok, still rude to leave,probably, I stayed for the sermon which wasn’t terrible, mostly about inclusion of trans folks and gay folks and how everyone could be helpful, donate to the fund…be kind, listen to  one another. Ok so far, then - the readings, three of them, all three were fucked up interpretations of god talk, god being his mean old self . Maybe I could sneak out now… nope - the ushers guarded the pews and marched us up to the kneely thing for a crappy wafer and a sniff of wine, I got a blessing because I said no thank you to the snack. Anyway, awkward… upon leaving, at the entry,  vicar again shook my hand, and I was polite, but I wanted to question their gods intent and the bollocks readings. “ mind your own business”, I said to me, left, went for a walk through hyperbolic autumnal weather. The park was a flurry of leaves and wind kicking up around joyful dogs. 

Speaking of…Sarah took me to the pet cemetery on Friday. We agreed that the panic was cruel / horrendous, and we would never obey orders like that, but people are strange, especially when fear is ever present threatening horrors that are not yet a reality, War does that, god also does that…seems fear is the best manipulation to survival ever, played to the max.used by religions, keep your offerings  healthy , as the ushers pass the hat…fear is more god than any of the gods. America thrives on fear especially now . Expect cruelty…

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Favorite weather woman, the horniman and diversions

 The day looked promising, as weather goes. Carol , favorite weather person , has been  making weather happen on BBC for about 23 years. Her delightful personality and lilting Scottish accent carries the nation through the worst and best weather. When she starts her report it is always “gud morrrning” smiling effortlessly, and everyone believes that , yes, it is a good morning no matter if the weather is shite.

Sunshine expected for the day so I planned to spend it outside. The sixteen and a half acre garden/ park at the Horniman museum not far from here looked just right. Fewer people , interesting garden, beautiful overlook of the city in the distance.

  

It is a nature paradise, all sorts of plants , some unexpected  , tropical and dessert , and a small area for farm animals. Art crops up throughout the walk. Musical art with hammers hanging along the sides to play the instruments. The museum is brilliant for children especially, inside loads of anthropological displays as well as a great collection of taxidermist work. Live animals on the outside dead ones on the inside.

The imposing building in the background is one I see frequently on the horizon in East Dulwich. I have grown to admire it though at first, because of its mega sized solid structure , it looked out of place and bossy. It was built in 1964 , Kate Macintosh architect, and houses 300 flats with a few balconies , a communal garden and individual fire escapes, a definite plus for the city with horrendous fire history. It is called Dawson’s Heights. There are great photos in Mr Googles library, mine does it no justice at all. It has been described as 60’s space age cool, built in a time when quality was still a goal.

I bought cards in the gift shop, warmed up , the chill outside let you know you were alive! Just like back home, when the sun shines in winter you better pack an extra layer. In the shop the clerk asked me from where in Ireland I came.. I said “ America Ireland”, satisfied with that answer she said “ I knew you was Irish , could tell from your strong accent”. Must be the “ Rrrr’ s”. 

Caught the usual bus and since I was already headed that way I went  into the city . At Waterloo the driver ordered everyone off the bus. It was going no farther due to diversion. That’s the thing about busses , no warning. I got off at Waterloo, walked to trafalgar thinking to walk up hay market to Piccadilly Circus to my favorite BOOTS pharm to get stuff.  BOOTS are all over the place, you can always find one close by, but my favorite one is three floors with everything you could ever need. It is sparkling clean, antiseptic and well laid out. Drug store bliss! Anyway, the sun was going down so the decision was made for me, to head back to the spider flat. Got to the bus stop and the damned bus never came- another diversion. I walked a while until I found one that might work. By the time I got back, it was dark, good call.