Up at 4am on Sunday morning.
Bloody OUCH.
My sister was taking part in the Shine Walk Ldn, raising money for Cancer Research UK.
I was given two choices: see her off at Southwark Park at 10pm the night before, or an early morning rendez vous down at Old Billingsgate.
I already had my ticket booked for Saturday night at The Globe when the suggestion came through.
Bugger.
A 4am Sunday morning start it was then.
I almost managed to do the family thing as I departed The Globe on Saturday evening. The early Shine walkers were starting to stream through Bankside.
I couldn’t clock my sister.
And so six and a half hours later, I was back outside The Globe.
I still couldn’t clock my sister, as had been pre-arranged via text half an hour earlier.
In the end the sibling reunion took place outside Old Billingsgate. She was ahead of schedule and I had missed the grand finish.
Whoops.
There was a family walk back over Ldn Bridge as the sun was starting to rise. It made up for my poor timing on the meet ‘n’ greet front.
And so what it a Boy About Town then suppose to do at 6am in the morning?
Back to bed?
Bugger that.
The lovely lido wouldn’t be open for another couple of hours. I did a few Sunday sunrise shots around a deserted Sunny Stockwell, and then headed back to the flat.
I bashed out the Buzz Dulwich match report and edited some photos.
The streets of S Ldn were still empty as I cycled on to the lido before 8am. Brockwell Park was looking BEAUTIFUL in the late, late summer sun.
It’s a shame that I wasn’t up for the swim. My body was aching and my internal alarm clock was f-ed.
I put in a very poor twelve lengths of Brockwell Blue.
A poolside compliment then came from a fellow Icicle:
“You are such a Dandy.”
Cheers.
I’ll take that, fella.
I hung around a little in the S Ldn sun trap and caught up with the lido gossip.
This is the time in the season when the Icicles are returning from various foreign trips. It is considered cold water swimming etiquette to bring something to the Brockwell breakfast table.
I sampled on Sunday morning some sweet cake from Ibiza, and then some poppy seed Ukrainian bread.
It’s got to beat the Bran Flakes back at base.
The rest of Sunday morning was spent walking the Brixton Design Trail.
It was a little… meh if I am to be honest.
The jukebox performance at Windrush Square did put a big smile on my face, mind.
The rest of Sunday was then all about Desk Delivery Day.
A pedestal desk was making its way down to us from Birmingham.
I think?
I was told “anytime after midday.”
Which isn’t that helpful, chaps.
Thankfully it came early.
I’m very pleased with the appearance. The flat will soon be set up for full time working from home.
I made a little space by liberating the old tall boy piece of furniture. This has been with us at South Lambeth Road for seventeen summers.
I am rather fond of the pine purchase from Clap’ham back in the day.
It took less than five minutes for the liberation to take place as I left it out along the pavement.
Please look after this tall boy, etc.
I finally caught up with the Novara interview with the Progress Poster Boy.
One hour, ten mins and ten secs in https://t.co/K5IRK7cPCY I kinda feel your *pain* @AyoCaesar 😉
— Jason_Cobb (@Jason_Cobb) September 24, 2017
I pass no comment on one hour, ten minutes and ten seconds in.
Disco Darryl and I hooked up early evening to record the second Town Hall Tapes podcast.
The workflow is smooth, the content a little hit and miss.
I edited it and turned it around in under half an hour. This is the way that we need to work if we are to continue.
And then… bed.
Christ.
I’m bloody knackered.