Gawd Bless Her
Wednesday, June 6th, 2012 12:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanI like five-day weekends. I could get used to them; we need more jubilees, not fewer.
Other than accepting, with grateful thanks, the additional day’s bank holiday this year, the Jubilee has largely passed me by. I haven’t watched any of it on TV, other than late Sunday evening when we got home and were waiting for the oven chips to cook.
Around our neck of the woods there were a couple of street parties, one on the Saturday and one, I think, on Sunday in either St Mary’s Street or Stanley Road. We didn’t go and check. Instead we played an enormous amount or Warcraft, did a lot of sleeping and watching movies and yesterday, I finally sorted out the grouting in the bathroom, while Furtle spent the afternoon planting new goodies in the garden -we had been up to HomeBase on Saturday, where we obtained rather more plants than intended and a Maui Head (rather against Furtle’s better judgement, but I like it), which I have ensconced at a jaunty angle beneath the buddleia, where I am hoping it will, in due course get all mossy and maybe attract a creeper or two:
We didn’t completely isolate ourselves from the celebrations however and on Sunday we went into town to grab a glimpse of the flotilla. I have to say that Furtle enjoyed this rather more than I did. It was far too crowded for my tastes and we could see very little, though I managed to grab a couple of photos, neither of which capture the feel or scope of the event in the slightest, though a couple of mpegs do show the Dunkirk boats quite nicely.
A picture that completely fails to reflect the grandeur of the occasion
We got rained on quite splendidly to the point where even my leather jacket couldn’t keep it out. The crowds ensured that all useful tube stations were closed, all useful bus routes diverted and all useful roads used as pavements only. This meant we had to walk – once Vauxhall Bridge had actually been reopened, from Vauxhall to Trafalgar Square in driving rain, which, once we got moving wasn’t quite the trial you might expect. Once there, we nipped around the corner and went to the Civil Service Club to grab a beer and a sandwich and dry out a little. We didn’t intend to stay too long, but in the event Furtle Minor turned up after making her way up from the Tower Bridge area and we stayed chatting and boozing until closing time, getting home around midnight. Oh dear. I must say, though, the walk followed by the sojourn in the club made up for the restricted view at the river and the sciatica attack I got after standing pretty much stationary for close on three hours.
Overall, a good weekend, despite the weather and restricted views.
Other than accepting, with grateful thanks, the additional day’s bank holiday this year, the Jubilee has largely passed me by. I haven’t watched any of it on TV, other than late Sunday evening when we got home and were waiting for the oven chips to cook.
Around our neck of the woods there were a couple of street parties, one on the Saturday and one, I think, on Sunday in either St Mary’s Street or Stanley Road. We didn’t go and check. Instead we played an enormous amount or Warcraft, did a lot of sleeping and watching movies and yesterday, I finally sorted out the grouting in the bathroom, while Furtle spent the afternoon planting new goodies in the garden -we had been up to HomeBase on Saturday, where we obtained rather more plants than intended and a Maui Head (rather against Furtle’s better judgement, but I like it), which I have ensconced at a jaunty angle beneath the buddleia, where I am hoping it will, in due course get all mossy and maybe attract a creeper or two:
We didn’t completely isolate ourselves from the celebrations however and on Sunday we went into town to grab a glimpse of the flotilla. I have to say that Furtle enjoyed this rather more than I did. It was far too crowded for my tastes and we could see very little, though I managed to grab a couple of photos, neither of which capture the feel or scope of the event in the slightest, though a couple of mpegs do show the Dunkirk boats quite nicely.
A picture that completely fails to reflect the grandeur of the occasion
We got rained on quite splendidly to the point where even my leather jacket couldn’t keep it out. The crowds ensured that all useful tube stations were closed, all useful bus routes diverted and all useful roads used as pavements only. This meant we had to walk – once Vauxhall Bridge had actually been reopened, from Vauxhall to Trafalgar Square in driving rain, which, once we got moving wasn’t quite the trial you might expect. Once there, we nipped around the corner and went to the Civil Service Club to grab a beer and a sandwich and dry out a little. We didn’t intend to stay too long, but in the event Furtle Minor turned up after making her way up from the Tower Bridge area and we stayed chatting and boozing until closing time, getting home around midnight. Oh dear. I must say, though, the walk followed by the sojourn in the club made up for the restricted view at the river and the sciatica attack I got after standing pretty much stationary for close on three hours.
Overall, a good weekend, despite the weather and restricted views.
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Date: 2012-06-07 04:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-06-07 04:23 pm (UTC)