Monday, July 11, 2011

3BT

Paul, a real Old Kent Road type with no inhibitions, and I, are standing in the yard with our trucks at dawn, wearing our new high-visibility jackets.  A jumbo jet approaches from the south, over Brixton Prison, when it should be approaching from the east.  We call out and wave our arms.  Catching sight of us, the pilot executes a steep turn, just in time to line up with the runway at Heathrow.  Job done !

Two old customers, big hotels sadly missed for the last year or two, begin to order from us once more.  Especially cheering because each has a charming, intelligent, personable individual doing the “goods in” job.

New potatoes, boiled in their skins, then chilled and smothered in garlic mayonnaise.  Enough calories for me to run a marathon, were I so inclined.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

3BT

A flock of light brown sparrows chaotically zig-zagging across a light brown field of wheat that is bending and waving before a hot southern wind.

Looking up to the first pink clouds at dawn in Brixton and seeing the swifts are already flying high.

Entering the darkened kitchen after nightfall to wash the dishes and having my eyeballs unexpectedly tickled by the silent shimmer of a distant firework display.

hungry ? ... angela lansbury catering in the days before red tape was invented ... brush up on your spanish at the same time

















http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8r_jc8_P8X0

a rare bargain from oxfam in reigate, a charity book shop where the working classes can no longer expect to find a bargain

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

a startling message from beyond the gravy by the indefatigably workaholic richard nye















i'm not yet quite sure how to trigger the animation ... click on it ?

peripheral vision

Driving through a dark part of the New Forest on a very bright day, you begin to see things in black and white, especially at the periphery of your field of view.

As we pass a side-lane, a momentary glance freezes a picture which the mind resolves in to a painting in sable, silver and gold.

The bright lane leading to a steep roofed cottage, dark with a tall chimney in a gap in the wood.

In the lane, towards the house, a slender black cat pauses to glance our way and holds one front foot raised in mid-stride.

In the foreground, a golden hen tiptoes across her own sharp shadow.

Peace and tranquility in a bubble of time.

Monday, June 20, 2011

grrrr!


















i spent an hour trying to book rail tickets online with southernrailway.com

they wanted me to set up an account

i don't really want an account i just need a ticket and i'd be glad to pay

they insist i set up an account with my e-mail address and a password

then they said the password was invalid

then they asked me to set up an account again

then they put the fare up

so i'm going by bus ... it takes twice as long to get there but the booking system is comparitively open and transparent

i wonder how many customers they alienate on a daily basis ?

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Yet another 3BT

















Staring intently into a dress shop window, leaning forward on her crutches, a young woman with only one leg, but it really is a very nice dynamic sort of a leg … with a very smart high-heeled shoe at the end of it.


Just after four in the morning, in the last shadows of night on the north edge of Clapham Common, at random but in the space of only about two hundred yards, ten young foxes busily searching the short damp grass with their noses.


On a zebra crossing by Putney Station, I side-step an oncoming goddess, a modern Atalanta.  She is tall enough to look over my head and is wearing very short muddy shorts over sinewy thighs ... and a pair of muddy football boots with the laces knotted together are draped over her shoulder.

Monday, June 6, 2011

3bt

Two girls recline on a low broad wall, one combing the hair of the other whose head lays upon her lap.  Each has hair the colour of ginger biscuits.

The cafeteria in the Wellcome Collection is furnished with chairs upholstered in pastel-coloured plastics.  A little girl wearing a dress patterned with white and pink and purple hearts chooses without hesitation to sit on a pink chair.

A text message arrives from the cancer ward.  She lives and breathes and they haven’t excised her sense of humour.