Thursday, 12 January 2012

Now What's That I Call Never at Home Education Volume 87

Today I saw.....

My hand waving goodbye to BOYS clutching golf clubs as I drove awaaaaaay from the house.

Frant Railway station despite the Sat Nav telling me to turn around where possible. And chums. And a parking space. Well I never did...

Charing Cross after many many years - this used to be my personal corridor. Didn't it miss me?

The Olympic clock ticking away our innocent lives.

A Tom Hanks-a-likey Australian swallow a whole modelling balloon. Then a bemused Brazilian (with very little English) and a stately Dane (with a slightly better command) padlocked him into a straight jacket and chains and he still managed to get his hat on. (He also dislocated his shoulder and escaped in 3 minutes...yeah yeah) - but the balloon and the hat!!!

Turnaround and more chums - Happy New Year! Did you see what he did with that balloon?

The National Portrait Gallery's child-confuser - the rotating door doodahs. Always a laugh. Brings to mind a certain comedy incident at Bluewater's John Lewis some time ago involving a splat of Minx on their too-clean windows. Forever imprinted....

Lots of wonderful photographic portraits and a very attractive tiled floor. Where to look?

Willies and boobies.

The time!!

Blue sky above a bitter coffee.

The Coliseum thingy on top goes round and round - I'd never noticed before...

Look more chums!

And Johnny Depp!!

Only joking...

Lovely lovely floors... and windows... and mosaics.... and curtains.... and curly things and...... wow!!! The Coliseum!!!!

And nice toilets.

The English National Ballet - Strictly Gershwin. I dislocated my jaw. Sharpen your elbows and get a ticket. Get A Ticket. The Man I Love! An American in Paris!! The Eiffel Tower dances I tell you!!! Even the conductor shimmies.

Tears a-sparkling as dazzling as the costumes. The costumes!!

Nice toilets. Posh ice cream. (The latter down Minx's top. White top. Chocolate.)

Rhapsody in Blue.... Summertime.... Get. A. Ticket.

Nice toilets and Minx's face looking exasperated. I can't help it I'm old.

Back onto the very attractive tiled floor for the rest of those portraits.

My hand releasing lots of coins for lots of postcards.

And Tudor portraits - we dun Tudors. Minx dun Tudors. Nose right up to the canvas and gasping. Teenage Engage! THAT is cool! (Nearly teenage... I have an Olympic clock of my own counting down my sanity.)

The inside of a lift-that-don't-go-down-there.

Smiling faces of people seeing us come out again helpfully pointing to the stairs-that-do.

One more circular tour of the doors for luck.

Two more then...

A firm yank. (No. Not Johnny Depp.)

The thingy that goes round on top of the Coliseum lights up at night too.

Charing Cross. Still seemed to be getting on OK without me.

Burger King. BK said hello at least.

Frant by night.

The welcome glow of the back door through the forest of neglect. (I did say welcome and not sinister didn't I? Oh good.)

Minx's face looking exasperated - left all the postcards on the train.

Boys. Throwing darts. Mostly at the dartboard.

My feet - up.

The insides of my eyelids....

Then I saw.... that balloon.... where the squeak-pop-ouch did it go?



  1. Right...better get a ticket for that Gershwin thing. Sounds gorgeous.

    Brilliant, bizarre, barmy blogging at its best x

  2. Charing Cross, didn't get that way too often, but in Earls Court had similar experiences, including the not-Johnny Depp (and to think he's single again...bit too late JD)