Wednesday 6 February 2013
A weekend in London
Dear Sheddists,
this weekend past we celebrated my birthday with a trip to London, Greenwich to be precise.
The highlights of our visit?
Over-hearing a rather touching conversation on the Tube between two autistic gentlemen arguing the merits of prime numbers - I suspect even now they are somewhere on the Circle Line extolling the virtues of the number seven!
A fantastic walk around the quay-bound Cutty Sark, lifted high in the air to reveal her metal-skirted hull.
The climb through Greenwich Park toward the Royal Observatory to straddle the Meridian line. How precious for a putative horologist!
Sunday morning and a visit to the Royal Maritime Museum to view a fantastic exhibition of photographic work from the late and great Ansel Adams. Then onward to the Royal Albert Hall - the shock and awe of Cirque du Soleil's, "Kooza!"
And come Monday, my birthday, the gift of a ticking mechanical watch from the Royal Observatory, its mechanical movements revealed by its skeleton-casing.
What a weekend, what memories!!
Yours as ever,
electrofried(mr)
this weekend past we celebrated my birthday with a trip to London, Greenwich to be precise.
The highlights of our visit?
Over-hearing a rather touching conversation on the Tube between two autistic gentlemen arguing the merits of prime numbers - I suspect even now they are somewhere on the Circle Line extolling the virtues of the number seven!
A fantastic walk around the quay-bound Cutty Sark, lifted high in the air to reveal her metal-skirted hull.
The climb through Greenwich Park toward the Royal Observatory to straddle the Meridian line. How precious for a putative horologist!
Sunday morning and a visit to the Royal Maritime Museum to view a fantastic exhibition of photographic work from the late and great Ansel Adams. Then onward to the Royal Albert Hall - the shock and awe of Cirque du Soleil's, "Kooza!"
And come Monday, my birthday, the gift of a ticking mechanical watch from the Royal Observatory, its mechanical movements revealed by its skeleton-casing.
What a weekend, what memories!!
Yours as ever,
electrofried(mr)
Sunday 20 January 2013
Saturday 19 January 2013
My mother's funeral
A walk along the riverbank by the hotel we stay in and a rainbow lights the sullen sky. My younger brother and his wife arrive and we set off in convoy. Four cars; they lead.
We lose our way on the journey to the crematorium. Steps retraced and we make it there on time. The crematorium is unlocked, empty and cold as the wind swirls round outside. The view across the hills is spartan bare.
The party assembles and we sit silent square in a side-room, chairs pinned against the four walls. The funeral cortege arrives and we go through.
It's finished in a little over ten minutes. No hymns, no readings, just an address by the Methodist minister who leads the service. My younger brother has given him the wrong name for our long dead Uncle - beloved Malcolm, the apple of our mother's eye who died unknown in Singapore during the Second World War.
We file out heads bowed to the waiting wind. Strangely, the service does my mother justice.
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