Kew Gardens
Working on the premise that necessity is the mother of invention. So up early and back home to feed Calliope, and a think about what I could send Matt for our last-minute piece, and duly pinged over three options.
In the afternoon Lorraine and I caught a train to Kew Bridge, to visit Kew Gardens, which I had not been to for years. I lived close to it when I was married, and my return had a slightly bittersweet feeling, but I really enjoyed walking about it again with Lorraine, despite the weather constantly threatening rain. We stayed until closing time, and for the last hour felt almost alone as the garden was reclaimed by squirrels and the miaow of peacocks. I noticed the incessant planes flying over far more than when I lived under their flightpath. Tried out the treetop walk for the first time and it was empty among the trees, and quite windy too.
Also enjoyed lurking in the hothouse, and taking snaps. The buildings of Kew Gardens seeming a little shabbier than I remember them.
Then we walked across Kew Bridge to the Bell and Crown one of the pubs on Strand on the Green where Matty Boy was having a birthday booze up. Lots of chatting to Matt's nice friends and indeed Matt himself. Graeme, Craig, Melanie, Matt Hindley (who told me a terrible story of how his brother died of an allergic reaction while on holiday last year), and lots of other people I knew, but less well. Tash and Steve offered to drive us home too, which meant we could enjoy the evening and not leave early for the train. Journey home pleasant and Eric the enormous Great Dane good as gold in the back.
Ate bad pizza when we got home as we'd had no supper. Bed gone one.
Below a wet Kew. Summer in England. Curiously, I took no photos of people.
Working on the premise that necessity is the mother of invention. So up early and back home to feed Calliope, and a think about what I could send Matt for our last-minute piece, and duly pinged over three options.
In the afternoon Lorraine and I caught a train to Kew Bridge, to visit Kew Gardens, which I had not been to for years. I lived close to it when I was married, and my return had a slightly bittersweet feeling, but I really enjoyed walking about it again with Lorraine, despite the weather constantly threatening rain. We stayed until closing time, and for the last hour felt almost alone as the garden was reclaimed by squirrels and the miaow of peacocks. I noticed the incessant planes flying over far more than when I lived under their flightpath. Tried out the treetop walk for the first time and it was empty among the trees, and quite windy too.
Also enjoyed lurking in the hothouse, and taking snaps. The buildings of Kew Gardens seeming a little shabbier than I remember them.
Then we walked across Kew Bridge to the Bell and Crown one of the pubs on Strand on the Green where Matty Boy was having a birthday booze up. Lots of chatting to Matt's nice friends and indeed Matt himself. Graeme, Craig, Melanie, Matt Hindley (who told me a terrible story of how his brother died of an allergic reaction while on holiday last year), and lots of other people I knew, but less well. Tash and Steve offered to drive us home too, which meant we could enjoy the evening and not leave early for the train. Journey home pleasant and Eric the enormous Great Dane good as gold in the back.
Ate bad pizza when we got home as we'd had no supper. Bed gone one.
Below a wet Kew. Summer in England. Curiously, I took no photos of people.
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