Sunday

One of the downsides of persistently refusing to purchase a tumble dryer (and being too miserly to buy excessive school uniform) is the need for ruthless washing efficiency. Given that most people who know me well would not list ruthless efficiency as one of my top skills, you can imagine the potential for disaster and for the washing pile to become a mountain.

Accordingly, Sundays are generally spent at one end or the washing process or the other. The hours while away as the various loads move from here..


..via here...

..and finally to here.


Though there is undoubtedly some satisfaction in a good job done, I can't help feeling that it is yet another nail in the coffin of my youth. Surely Sundays used to be more wild than this?

Yawn

It is fact, sad and dull but true, that in order to lose weight one must use more energy than one consumes.

Boring!

Brisk sea air

The great thing about living near the sea....


is being able to go in the winter when no one else is there.

More barometers of age

Rather alarmingly, one of my closest friends knows that a schooner is a glass for drinking a large measure of sherry.


Is that the sound of my youth whizzing past?

Blazing a trail

Staying with the lovely Louise we planned a walk along the route of the Great Fire of London. The event is Lapin's school topic next term and she was eager to find out as much as possible before going back to school.

Naturally we started at the Monument, whose 202 feet in height matches the distance from the site of the start of the fire in Pudding Lane.


We stood at the bottom and admired the view...


..then climbed the stairs, all 311 of them...


..and admired the view in spite of the cloud. (There isn't a picture of the view from the top because the camera was left with those who declined the climb and I wasn't going up again.)

The mayor at the time was very dismissive when he heard the news - he thought the fire was of such little consequence that "a woman could piss on it and put it out." (Politicians have clearly always had the outstanding ability to put their foot in their mouths.) In fact the fire raged for three days, burning 13,000 homes and 87 parish churches but, incredibly, only six deaths were recorded.

Previously, Christopher Wren had been instructed to design and supervise the restoration of the original St. Paul's cathedral. He had fought for the old building to be demolished so he could implement some grand plans but his view had been over ruled by the clergy. So maybe he was pleased when the building was burnt to the ground shortly after it was encased in wooden scaffolding.


His new construction was certainly some phoenix to rise from the ashes.

Shopping the Sales

A good barometer of age and outlook is the purchases one dashes out to make in the sales.


I fear I am old before my time.