The Forest Is Not Immune

Last night I began reading The Folio Society’s ‘The Best of the Raconteurs’. Today’s advent calendar picture is of a display in the window of a shop that I cannot remember.  Again taken in December 1963 it was probably in Regent Street.  The cabinet containing the various vitreous containers, in which the glass madonna isContinue reading “The Forest Is Not Immune”

We Get Lots Of Stick

En route to Morden by car from The Firs this morning Jackie and I were presented with incontrovertible evidence which solved the conundrum I posted on 23rd. June.  What little Flo once called ‘tree tunnels’ are definitely caused by large vans. A motorcyclist who was driving rather precariously got me talking about my Uncle BillContinue reading “We Get Lots Of Stick”

‘A Really Lovely Old Boy’

The way the day began took me back to Leinster Mews.  Kasia, who has just moved in downstairs, locked herself out when putting the bins outside at 6 a.m..  Not knowing what else to do, she rang our doorbell.  After Jessica’s death in 2007, I returned to London and rented a mews house in that streetContinue reading “‘A Really Lovely Old Boy’”

Continuing Themes

This morning I strolled into the footpath leading up to the mosque; skirted the London Road edge of Morden Park; crossed this road into Central Road; bore right into Green Lane; wandered through the Haig Homes estate; travelled back to London Road; and returned to Links Avenue via the park. Cars were streaming down LinksContinue reading “Continuing Themes”

Council Housing

Along the footpath to the mosque this morning a heap of building waste demonstrated that the flytipping (2nd. July) warnings have been ignored.  When I returned from my walk, it was still there, and a man was standing at the entrance holding up a board which announced that the Eid (15th. August) carpark was full.  There was aContinue reading “Council Housing”

Flytipping

The ‘flash of yellow flying’ in the garden Jackie saw this morning turned out to be a greenfinch.  No-one uses this small communal garden in Morden to which we don’t have access, and which is no more than a patch of grass and ground elder occasionally strimmed by the owners’ staff.  It abuts an overgrown railwayContinue reading “Flytipping”