A 7am work shift in the flat. It felt like the 2002 all over again. The workflow was steady, even by Monday morning standards.
I made the mid-morning escape. I cycled to Brixton and a barber’s appointment with Rasheed underneath the Academy.
The fella in front of me went from a full bushy head to a complete razor head Kojak. It was quite something to watch.
My No.1 all over was Sampson like by comparison.
I then had a rare weekday morning at the lido with no mad rush on to a school.
It was BEAUTIFUL.
I had a lane to myself. Ed was doing his power swim next door. I tried to keep up with the pace. But Ed is bloody fast.
I managed 20 lengths. I docked down in the deep end and had something of a private giggle.
THIS is what it feels like to be alive in S Ldn – well, it does for me, anyway.
There was a weird hard boiled egg situation developing back in the gents. I kinda get the bran and nuts obsession that sometimes breaks out.
But OD-ing on bloody hard boiled eggs after a swim?
I did a little shopping back in Brixton.
There’s always been a hip hop element to my dress sense, Comrades.
Some brief admin and gardening in the flat, and then I was summoned back to *over there* for kitten sitting duties.
The bicycle ride on the Brompton through Borough and the City was eerie. The area was in lockdown for the funeral of PC Keith Fletcher.
I caught the Clacton happy clappy train with seconds to spare.
And then waiting for me at the other end was Anna, a couple of kittens and a full on afternoon of work shifts.
I had an extreme sense of wisteria anticipation. Back home in South London and the wisteria blossoms are blooming.
The Estuary Wilds country cousins can’t be arsed it seems.
In Courgette News:
The Palace Vs Arsenal match kept us mildly entertained in the evening.