Chiswick

Oldie but a goodie (photo!), my most excellent aunt. She would never have a white cast for a torn shoulder, much too unsightly!

It's been a minute, and much water has flowed under the Hammersmith Bridge since we last spoke. There was last Tuesday and all. To avoid bringing you down what is likely another rabbit hole of despair, I'll instead list words June shared with me that may find a resurgence.

Facinorous

Mixship

Repudious

Skelm (personal favorite)

Derf

Gallows

Nineted

Flagitious

Nietheful

Mislived (second choice) and Unperfect

Let's talk about something else, shall we? I've been lucky enough to be staying at Auntie's mid-17th century pile of bricks, a most spectacular place in a brilliant hood. Facing a quiet road with rare car traffic, a river garden, then the tidal part of the Thames whose light permeates the front of the house. Auntie's bedroom at the top of some very beautiful stairs, looks out through a wisteria covered bow window at the river. The view from the back is of a perfectly maintained and colorful garden.

It's common to hear an English male voice through a megaphone guiding a pack of oarsmen or women doing their early morning workouts. You might also hear seagulls, other birds, water sounds, runners, walkers and planes coming into Heathrow. There are then the hourly bells, number of chimes corresponding to the time, then Auntie's grandfather clock which does the same, before the grandmother clock. Then there's the kitchen clock which lets out some kind of wild animal noise on the hour. The floors underneath the carpets make a lulling sound when being walked upon.

The neighborhood often has a most delicous smell of beer, specifically London Pride among others, being made, emanating from the neighboring Fullers Brewery, which has been there since 1816. In early December, there's a Santa run that goes through and it's always big business during the boat races.

Crazy beautiful stairs

View from the third floor bathroom. When my aunt's husband was alive, he would fly the flag representing whomever was his guest, along with his own Welsh dragon and the Union Jack.

Fullers Brewery behind the house and the neighbor's back garden

Auntie has either given me or inspired me to put together a few mugs on my kitchen windowsill, but hers are the real deal. She is a collector of beautiful things, and has an excellent and unpredictable eye. Her preference for animals over people is exhibited around the house, whether black dogs, giraffes, elephants, ducks, hippos or llamas. She saves stale bread to feed three very clean and elegant pigeons who fly in when she calls them. It is the one she has named Gimpy who is most aggressive, taking more than he (or she) can ever eat and doing his (or her) best to ensure the others don't get anything, despite there being more than enough. Auntie is not shy about telling them how to behave. There is also a black cat who comes in from time to time, responding to her calling with his own sound, though he has been frustratingly ineffective at scaring away the "adorable" kitchen mouse that "better not have babies". Jemima the puddle duck hasn't been around for a while, but that's because it's not her season. It's hard to say whether my aunt loves animals or flowers more, but the house would not be the house without either. She has both a beautiful garden, and fresh flowers wherever she and her guests are. On the day of a big birthday last year, she joked that her house looked like a funeral home.

Killer wall color and some of her mugs

More mugs and flowers and a Haitian painting

One of many African animals

Flowers

I share all this for context, explaining both my environment and the reason it's easy to be drawn here. As well as having always been there for me at difficult times, she is a woman who never runs out of fascinating stories, nor does she ever lose her curiosity or enthusiasm for life and what's going on in it. The house is usually busy with relatives and friends, which makes for additional entertainment, not that any is needed.

While arriving at Heahtrow at 5 instead of the traditional 7am was a drag because it meant less sleeping on the plane, getting through customs and picking up too much luggage took less than 10 minutes, a nice surprise, leading to an earlier morning nap. When I awoke, I could hear an American accent that sounded vaguely familiar, but couldn't place it. To my surprise, it was my NYC niece, here for work, with whom I got to hang that evening. We had a lovely pub dinner that was better than the roast and Yorkshire pud you might expect.

Sarah is always full of zhuzh

Nat arrived the next day and so begin our wandering and feral ways. Actually, we were pretty mainstream. Tower Hamlets, the City for a nice pub drink with the after work crowd, Soho, Theater District, Portobello/Notting Hill, Brixton, Islington, Shoreditch and probably a few other places I've forgotten. Here's one I just remembered: Middle Temple which, because this post is already long enough, I'm not going to explain, but it was very cool, especially at night.

Middle Temple

Touristy as it is, it's hard to pass on Portobello, which always provides, if nothing else, great people watching. But this time, a nice Barbour coat was scored for £35, which will be a deal if what I'm going to charitably call the smell of wet hay can be eradicated. One so hates to announce oneself before entering a room. The Iraqi food stand was solid, throwing some basmati rice with many herbs and fava beans, along with other really well cooked vegetables, at us.

Nat at Whitechapel Gallery

Brick Lane

Portobello at its finest

The Columbia Road Flower Market, I find out after, is the place to be seen, where fashion meets media and social media. But I was on the hunt for flowers, doing my best to not get pulled in by the monstrous cinamonny buns and bars that the coffee shops across the street were offering. Settled for some very dark red amarylli, an orange something or other and some pinkish dark red something or others, all looking very elegant in Auntie's eating area.

OK, Begonia sounds normal, but look at the others

£1 each!

Then Nat was gone and it was to the Churchill War Rooms with June and a complete overstimulation of my ADHD brain as I did my best to listen to the required audio guide while reading signs, moving along and taking in the actual exhibit. It was the time to be at Westminster, on Remembrance Day, just after the parade had finished and the streets were full of every kind of veteran tarted up with medals and uniforms, with a few at the age of 103 having led the parade.

June + Winston

Returning to elephants, at dinner we talked about many different things and when we touched around the edges of the elephant that will be in our living room for the next four years, my wise friend reminded me that we have the ability to choose, every day, to be a nice person, to be a good person, and to perpetuate whatever it is we yearn for.

Peace and Love out.