R's rue

 The West End was rammed with people.  I walked up from Euston just in time for a late lunch of lamb chops and black daal at Dishoom in StMartins Lane,  The  Covent Garden Christmas Tree was suitably festive and I sat and people watched until it was time for the theatre . The Ocean At The End Of The Lane was an interesting choice of mine as I picked it without knowing nothing of the production. It’s a fantasy/drama about a man who after attending his father’s funeral visits his half forgotten childhood. A childhood full of sadness, grief, loss and disappointment and of fabulous witches, monsters, life long friendship and magical powers. It’s a surreal and rather beautiful production full of visual tricks, superb puppetry  and a clever lead performance by James Bamford who captures all of the angst, confusion and pain of a twelve year old boy  who is hiding behind his fantasy pre teen, bookish safety net. Not wanting to process  what real l...

The photograph above has not been enhanced in any way. It is the thirteenth century tower of St Mary's Church in the Lincolnshire village of South Kelsey. I was lucky to catch it in sinking autumn sunshine after a four hour walk in the district before night time arrived far too early as it does at this time of year. It was yesterday. Clint and I had set off from Sheffield before 9.30am. At 11am I parked him near the church in North Kelsey. After inspecting that lovely church,  which by the way was open to the public, I set off on my planned walk. The surrounding countryside is rich agricultural land. In the past, there would have been more trees, woods and hedgerows and farming would have been a mixed and labour intensive affair. Nowadays, it is more of an industry, eager for profits with machinery that is often computer assisted. Pesticides and herbicides mean that wildlife struggles to assert its presence - from moles and starlings to ducks and badgers. Even insect numbers ar...

  There is a chill in the air this morning. Winter is approaching and the dying ash trees in the graveyard are stark against the cold marble sky in the west. Ash die back has decimated the trees nearby and those around the Church have been marked with yellow paint spots by the council and are awaiting their sad executions. It was dark when I returned home last night, so I didn’t notice that my sister had titivated the garden which now looks clean and tidy and ready for the winter.  She had planted pansies in the flower beds and left a colander on my garden table filled with alpines I’m going down to London today and the quiet coldness of the village feels a million miles away from the lights and bustle of Covent Garden .  I’m staying in Z Hotel again  I need to pick my train but I need my coffee first. Our tickets for  Comic Con are not until tomorrow but as Leo wanted an early start and has only got to travel from Kent, I have arranged to go down ...