Around Town...

Brixton, SW9

My Summer Hiatus...

...is at an end. Or should that be my hibernation?!? The ‘summer’ of 2011 has been officially adjudged the coldest for twenty years! It has been truly grim – even by Great Britain’s not so great standards. In fact for the second year running, the best weather of the year took place in April/May, so perhaps we must all collectively re-set our internal calendars and celebrate the sunny months of spring instead. Except I know in truth this is impossible, as I get as giddy as the next girl when I see the approach of July and August. The promise of some lingering warmth, lighter nights and brighter mornings is all that gets me through the seemingly endless grey days of a UK winter. But what do you do when that promise is broken? When it feels/looks like November and you even contemplate turning the central heating on (although I opted to put on an additional jumper instead)...

Luckily I managed to disappear to the insanely balmy heat of South Carolina for a couple of weeks in early August, which just happened to coincide with London being ransacked...

Look what happens when I leave town for a couple of days!?!

In part I felt very thankful to be absent from the city whilst the moronic mob was rampaging. However it is seriously disconcerting to be so far from home during calamitous times. It’s impossible to gauge what the actual situation ‘on the ground’ is; particularly when your primary source of information is that home of hideous hyperbole – Fox News. They even gleefully showed CCTV footage of Clapham and Brixton being ripped asunder, just for the viewing displeasure of yours truly (that Homeland Security sure is a blabbermouth!).

So alas I can offer no real insight into those nights of nuttiness. Nor can I bring you an eye witness account of the sacking of South London, as I was unashamedly AWOL. The irony does tickle me somewhat...

Personally, I am blaming it all on the weather!

Boat Drinks Brixton Clean Up

A glum start...

I came across these ‘Reward’ posters on my journey to work and what a very depressing start to the day it was too. My heart simultaneously sank and was gripped with fear. Did I double lock my door??? Then I remembered that the homestead hadn’t been left vacant and that my husband was there to fight off the thieving hordes - phew! Although naturally I would prefer that he not have to do battle with a band of rampaging robbers unless strictly necessary…



I admire the bravery and the hopeful honesty of their plea. They have lost irreplaceable treasures (even if they are of the technological variety). They won’t mean squat to the person that pillaged them, so why shouldn’t the victim call them out (under the auspicious of offering a reward)!

I know it is highly unlikely, but if by some slim chance the culprits see these signs and would permit themselves a bit of a Frank Capra-esque softening, I just know this city would be a (somewhat) nicer place to live in.

Boat Drinks for the Optimists!

Bile for the Thieves!!