Bloody Garden Bridge conversations dominated the morning chat down at the lovely lido. The overnight news didn’t look good for the private vanity project.
We’ve been here before of course. I recall similar Lake Brockwell conversations with @oneeyegrey when the bridge that isn’t a bridge appeared doomed over twelve months ago.
I was in need of purification in the beautiful Brockwell blue to wash out the negative thoughts regarding the bloody Garden Bridge.
I wasn’t disappointed. I took to the water just as the South London sun started to break through.
Above the water was a haze of purple as the lens protectors in my goggles filtered out a Transpontine technicolour aquatic happening.
Underwater and Brockwell blue surrounded me.
Please can we never leave this GLORIOUS place?
The water had dipped below 20 degrees for the first time this season. It is still a little too tepid for most of the Icicle crowd. Fifteen degrees and under is the tipping point for the Brockwell GRINS that will appear around mid-October.
I feel good. I knew that I would…
Nope - not a swimming reference, but the school choir practise that greeted me first thing in SW9.
Singing and signing James Brown is good for the soul.
YEAH.
Also good for my inner well-being was the suggestion from Boy Y that he was learning all about the tunas as part of his history topic for this term.
He meant the Tudors of course.
STAR.
I found myself dancing to Ghostbusters as part of a PE Wii activity. I couldn’t resist a snapshot of Sunny Stockwell from the new school building later in the day.
A call was made late afternoon to a cat rescue for kittens. We have an appointment booked in for Saturday afternoon.
It’s been a tough old summer, but I think that we are both about ready.
And then Thursday evening and the shout went out for:
To The Oval!
Hurrah!
The old Oval gang was all together once again, on the piss in the Pavilion for an end of season t20 celebration.
But with middle-age responsibilities, and a metabolism that can no longer wing it with a hangover at work the following day, it was a sober experience for most of us.
Lovely old evening in the old ground though.