Sunday morning we checked out of the B & B and walked down the High Street to Louise’s. As we passed the market area there was a large gathering of cyclists wearing bibs that said ‘Watch out, the cyclists are coming’ . We later learned that there was a gathering of over 40,000 cyclists in central London, for whom many of the city roads had been closed.
Louise and Garvin hosted brunch for the two families, then set off for a week’s honeymoon, leaving us to keep Jake (the grandkitten) company. We tidied up, sorted out our cases, did loads of washing, and generally settled in.
It was sad to say goodbye to Louise when I have no idea when I will ever see her again, but very comforting to know that the wedding met all expectations and that she has Garvin to support and accompany her on her life’s journey.
This morning (Monday) it was raining, so Jake and I stayed in bed. A real pleasure to lie there, with no responsibilities, watching raindrops running down the window pane, especially on a Monday mornging when I would usually be at work. Cathryn has lent me “How to be free” by Tom Hodgkinson, a green and inspiring book, which caps Schmacher’s “Small is beautiful” with “Big is boring”. I’ve been reading how the children of Enlightenment pioneers were taught bookkeeping as a matter of course, and that in battles against authorities it’s useful to have good records. All of which is very affirming for an obsessive recorder like me. This book, in its criticism of consumerism, also reminds me how lucky I am to live close to shops like Piko and Retropolitan (where you can buy all kinds of recycled items).
The Rain Goddess has kindly relieved us of our allotment-watering duties, so the fruit trees and baby lettuces will flourish despite Garvin’s absence. By 10.30 a.m. the rain had cleared and we took yesterday’s washing down to the laundromat and dried it. This afternoon we’ve been up to the Vestry House Museum, washed all the champagne glasses from Saturday, and brought them home ready to be returned.
While I was sitting blogging there was a knock at the door and a delivery man asked if I could take a parcel for the next door neighbours. I’ve barely said hello to the neighbours, but I agreed. He then brought in an enormous parcel nearly as big as the door, which apparently contains pilates equipment. I hope the neighbours come home soon to claim it as there is barely room for it in here. Organising deliveries can be a real problem in London. Louise has a metal cabinet like a safe, bolted to the outside wall, but she says it’s hard to persuade carriers to use it.
On BBC London I heard that three weeks ago a ban was imposed on feeding pigeons in Trafalgar Square, and now the pigeons are dying, presumably because they’d become dependant. I wonder how all the dependant Cottage birds are faring in our absence. Hopefully they can find an aphid or two to sustain them.
“Birds should be left to feed themselves
Not plied with food scraps set on shelves.”
