Some pics

Last weekend I went to New Forest. It was lovely. So lovely, in fact, that I slept almost the entire time. I don't know what it is about the country air but, by Jingo*, it makes me sleepy.

Yesterday I went for a work health screening thing. They give you a rubber boob to play with and “find the cancer”. It is all quite merry, and the cancer is clearly visible from all of the prodding the surrounding bit of rubber has had, leading to my new slogan, “Health screening, taking rank to the max!” I also found out that my blood pressure is 98/54, which means that I am either super human with blood vessels of such a high elasticity that you could use them, if you should so choose, as condoms, or that I am nearly dead. I don’t like either option, so I am going to change the topic.

Step right up! Step right up! For you viewing pleasure I have some new fangled photo-graphy in kerazy, wild technicolor! It will amaze, delight and astound you! Realism like never seen before! Step right up folks!

* Apparently, Jingo is “One who vociferously supports one's country, especially one who supports a belligerent foreign policy; a chauvinistic patriot”. Not sure why he takes such strong stance on country air as well, but there you go. Maybe he was prone to midday naps as well.


This is Borough Markets in the morning - Elsey and Bent is where I get, among other things, fresh figs in the morning and pomogranites AS BIG AS YOUR HEAD.


Ever wondered where Turkey meat comes from - ask this man unloading outside Borough Markets. Yummy.




My walk to work takes me past Neils Dairy every day.



....and the Take Courage sign...



My work is the one with the curve-y out-y bars on the left hand side up the back. Note the relative location of St Pauls and the river itself. Lovely.



Bottom of work bulding.




Walking back to work from Waterloo station yesterday arvo. Would have been around 3pm. Note how cold it looks and the famous London fog.




..more... it really was quite beautiful.

Electro-clash isn’t what it used to be

Sorry to my remaining readers, but periods of silence are going to become a new feature of my blogging, like baubles on the poor murdered trees of London, they will shine through my normal twiggy and pine scented posts. Well, that analogy didn't work. I will try harder in future.

Christmas is gearing up, the Thames is blending into the grey of the sky, and, on the other side of the world, bush fires are causey Merry Christmas havoc in the hills of Victoria. Cause it is so hard to imagine the threat faced by my parents at the moment, my head is having a fun time dreaming nightmares about bushfires instead. Thank you head, you are very helpful.

Today I have a Christmas team lunch at “Balls Brothers” (ahem!), followed by the Christmas party on Thursday night, a four day break in New Forest, then, when I have just removed all hope of ever fitting back into my pants, the group Christmas party the following Thursday. Then, by this time almost redundant, Christmas itself gets a look in. I fear for my britches and their fragile stitches.

In other news, my housemate fell down the stairs the other day, my sister woke to find a tomato under her pillow, and Arcade Fire tickets for three concerts in the New Year sold out in less than 5 minutes on Friday much to concern, bemusement and chagrin respectively.

Hope you are all eating nearly as much as I am, especially those of you placed conveniently as counterweights elsewhere in the world. We don’t want to go affecting its spin, now, do we?