What a glorious bright day! All was quiet in the house, and most in the streets around this morning, with few police sirens wailing, and few neighbours putting out their empty bottles. I read the office, the litany, and the ante-Communion, wondering at the dispute that led to the proto-Martyr's death, and looking angelic at the heavens. I read some Homilies too: how incongruous the themes of that for the season would sound at the Nativity in churches now!
Then out to play on my bicycle, not a new one, but I was wearing new and very cosy gloves. O went down to Stratford through the town, past the poor shops of Leyton, marvelling at the trading, and the tinsel in the Muslim garages, and thinking of maps shewing indices of multiple deprivation though since I do not know how to publish a link you will have to find your own way to http://strategicdevelopment.london.anglican.org. Religious diversity goes with poverty, and there must be a story there. Diversity probably came to poverty, and brought its own poverty with it. There was plany of both to be seen in the mean and tawdry strees of this part of East London.
From Stratford I came back along the Lea Valley, up through Hackney Marshes, Leyton Marshes, Walthamstow Marshes, past Springfield Park, and to Tottenham. That bit was quiet, and bits of it were lovely in the bright sun and against the cold blue skies. The winter tress were beautiful browns, and the water glistened and sparkled, and I even heard it burbling.
There were rooks, and swans too up towards Tottenham; there were some people out for Boxing Day Walks, and various other cyclists, of different kinds, though nobody else in tweed and corduroy.
Then out to play on my bicycle, not a new one, but I was wearing new and very cosy gloves. O went down to Stratford through the town, past the poor shops of Leyton, marvelling at the trading, and the tinsel in the Muslim garages, and thinking of maps shewing indices of multiple deprivation though since I do not know how to publish a link you will have to find your own way to http://strategicdevelopment.london.anglican.org. Religious diversity goes with poverty, and there must be a story there. Diversity probably came to poverty, and brought its own poverty with it. There was plany of both to be seen in the mean and tawdry strees of this part of East London.
From Stratford I came back along the Lea Valley, up through Hackney Marshes, Leyton Marshes, Walthamstow Marshes, past Springfield Park, and to Tottenham. That bit was quiet, and bits of it were lovely in the bright sun and against the cold blue skies. The winter tress were beautiful browns, and the water glistened and sparkled, and I even heard it burbling.
There were rooks, and swans too up towards Tottenham; there were some people out for Boxing Day Walks, and various other cyclists, of different kinds, though nobody else in tweed and corduroy.
I was too lame to walk, so I took some neurofen and swept leaves instead. Not in cords and tweed either, but running trousers and ski top. But I still smell nice!
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