London – Page 22 – slightly weird

30th April 2018

Beginnings, endings, we just keep on keeping on

Monday 30, April 2018

Two big events happened.

One was the tree pruning in front of our house, the second was my aunt’s birthday.

When we first moved in, we were told about the enormous tree in front of the house. It’s apparently four or five hundred years old and, as such, it’s protected – it can’t be chopped down. However, its branches covered a lot of airspace – perhaps four or five houses wide, taller than our four storey house, and some branches reaching to the middle of the busy road.

**Spring time growth, as viewed from the front step**

**Only just starting to get leafy, the tree dominated the street**

The tree is protected but so are humans and buildings, and it was clear that those branches would soon be poking someone’s eye out or creeping into the rain gutters and roofs. It’s been three years and the tree had remained as is. We grew to love watching it bud, flower, and then dwindle during that time. During the summer, the leaves were so resplendent that we couldn’t see across the road any more. This was offset by this flat never becoming too warm during hot days.

Late last week, we noticed that there were some Parking Supension notices and we wondered if our tree’s time had come. A couple of days passed. On Saturday morning, we noticed three small trucks parked outside and a police line tape at the middle of the road to stop traffic on our side. Ominous.

We expected that one to two meters of each branch would be pruned. What happened felt like slaughter. The very first branch was cut back to just a stick. Every branch and twig with leaves was gone. And so it continued. At the half way point we thought perhaps they’d leave a canopy but the men climbed higher and higher and within a few hours the tree was a ‘skellington.’

Those lovely branches and leaves gone and I have to confess I felt bereft. Friends assured me it will grow back but I’m certain that hundreds of years of growth won’t be replaced in weeks and I don’t expect to see leaves this season. Then, if I do, I shall consider them gifts. It will grow back for sure but a shadow of its former self.

My new robots' view — **My new robots’ view**

Tree from the other side of the road - scene of slaughter — **Tree from the other side of the road – scene of slaughter**

No more birds, although the butchers left two nests – thank you. And thanks (no thanks) to damaging the palm trees that have been there for more than a hundred years, thanks to Loddiges.

Here’s to new beginnings! Continue reading “Beginnings, endings, we just keep on keeping on”

21st April 201822nd April 2018

A wander in Stoke Newington, the high street, Old Church, Church Street, and Abney Park

Saturday, 21 April, 2018

My brother, John, has been a keen genealogist for some time and keeps me honest on these pages. The amount of history my family has – on both sides – with this borough of Hackney and that of Tower Hamlets is quite astonishing. No wonder I feel completely at home on these streets. Although it’s not as prolific as the connection with Mile End, Bethnal Green, Spitalfields and Whitechapel, there is a pretty strong line in Hackney so I’ve chased some of the places up.

‘Birth cert of Kate Lees (Samuel Simmons’ – my paternal grandmother – mother) of 1865 shows she was born at 25 Wentworth St. Terrible reputation but maybe the street was not as bad at that time.
Also, her mother Hannah’s last address was 140 Imperial. The Willing great grandparents also lived on Imperial (#37), not sure if they overlapped.’

So on a walk up to Stoke Newington for bread and fabric, I looked for ‘Imperial.’ On a street called Victorian Road is a complex of flats that I immediately recognised as one of the Four Percent Industrial Dwellings that are still scattered around the east end of London.

And part way along, almost where the road becomes a much more modern housing estate, is a chained and padlocked gate. If you look through the bars, there is Imperial Avenue – like a row of mews houses – a hidden pocket of homes.

**Imperial Avenue, seen through the bars of a sturdy modern gate**

I was interested and, as always, my own neighbourhood had surprised me with something I hadn’t seen before. And ‘victorian rd, imperial ave and coronation road. I sense a theme,’ I told John.

Stoke Newington (aka Stokey) can be a grim area along the high street. It’s somehow escaped the gentrification of neighbouring Dalston. However, its age also brings some treasures and I’m very fond of things tour guide Eleanor Blum calls ‘ghosts.’ These are remnants of past times. Still partially there but not in keeping with today.

**This ghost sign on Stoke Newington High Street was painted twice, one on top of the other**

I often buy fresh burrata and newly baked ciabatta at Gallo Nero along the grubby high street. It’s not quite Italy but it’s packed with Italian goods.

Saturday, after a busy morning, I set off again to Stoke Newington. (The New Town in the Woods.) This time to Church Street (Stoke Newington Church Street) because I’d heard there were St George Day celebrations at the last remaining Elizabethan church in London, The Old Church. Contrary to the main high street, Church Street is charming, leafy and feels far different. Continue reading “A wander in Stoke Newington, the high street, Old Church, Church Street, and Abney Park”

20th April 2018

A visit to Haggerston

Friday, 20 April 2018

Summer heat has hit London. Temperatures are hitting as high as 28C for several days.

The difference this has made to the tree outside in the window in just a few days is remarkable!

The tree on Monday... — **The tree on Monday….**

...and on Thursday — **…and on Thursday**

Yesterday was an eventful day for me – unintentionally. Here follows a rambling account.

First I went to the doctor only to find out that my test results (expected two weeks ago) have still not arrived. sigh. But I had other things to do. I had to complete a sleepiness study to get back into the sleep clinic at St Barts hospital. and I asked about anxiety meds. Briefly – the doctors here have been refusing to give me Clonazepam despite my very good history with it. Every now and again I restate my case to get them. so I gave it another shot. He asked me questions and then said he was convinced that I should have it but needed to bring it up at the doctor meeting they had later that day. (He called me back to say the doctors said they also agreed but he had to now run it past the psychiatric arm of their practice. progress!)

Also I asked about the shingles shot and risks and benefits and they booked me in to see the practice nurse. she was one i’d seen before and really liked. so we chatted a bit and I got my shot, which instantly hurt like crazy – normal, she said. so far so good! feel OK. Arm a bit sore, was a bit tired but that’s not unusual these days.I then had to jump on a bus to get to my appointment at the volunteer office.

Chapter of accidents follows:

got in the bus
realised I was on the wrong one when it took the ‘wrong’ turn – got about three stops into the wrong route
walked the half mile to the road where I could get the right bus
knees hurt so waited ten minutes for a connecting bus
arrived 45 mins late!
told that I was in the wrong location for my appointment
walked with the receptionist another 1/4 mile to the right location
arrived an hour late!

Stupid thing is that if i’d realised where I should have been, there would have been no need for that connecting bus or the wait for it. Duh.

Anyway, Jane (the woman I had to see) told me that Shahanaz was already there. Shahanaz is the Muslim woman I’ve become friends with – one of those things where you are in a new group of people and somehow you end up becoming friends with the one you would least have expected! And the three of us had a great chat, most of which arose from Jane seeing my birth certificate and being fascinated with all the details. (it was an ID checking session). Jane mentioned that she had been to the Princelet synagogue one year and fell in love with it. Shahanaz was really intrigued by Jane’s story and asked me if I could take her. then Jane said we *must* include her. this whole thing felt really warm and inclusive – and curious in that there we were, one Jew, one Muslim, and one (Irish) Catholic – and I felt like we were a new circle of friends. that would be really nice actually. Anyway, the next open house is 10 September so I may not be in London but…

After the ID session, Shahanaz asked if we could go next door to the Waterhouse cafe – the place that catered our volunteer training sessions. This turned out to be a lovely space with a patio overlooking the canal.

I really enjoyed the brunch (poached egg with smoked salmon and asparagus) and Shahanaz asked if we could try a new coffee – she is discovering the world of coffee (sheltered!) through me. We chatted about our lives and then left to get home. When we got to Dalston Shahanaz remembered she had left her bag (with passport etc) in the cafe so she had to turn back. I came home and had a restful day.

My cheese is a week or two away from being ready to eat and my new dollies are enjoying the sun!

**Hoping the blue is the left one because that’s the one I pierced to encourage the blue veins**

18th April 201820th April 2018

Dim Sum adventures

Wednesday, 18 April, 2018

A return visit for dim sum at Shikumen was in store. We did a fair amount of walking and it was hot! Shikumen is having a four for £10 lunch. We’ll go back and try four different ones before the promotion ends.

**A beautifully crafted vegetable dumpling**

The foru for £10 dim sum lunch. Missing are the chicken gyoza — **The four for £10 dim sum lunch. Missing are the chicken gyoza**

I wanted to check out the new bar that overlooks the city so we took the lift up to the fourteenth floor but were foiled. It goes as far as floor 13 and then you see a notice: You have to come up from the ground floor and be escorted. Are they keeping the riffraff out? I’m coming back at night when it’s open, to have a silly cocktail and take photos before the light fades.

A bit more walking in the heat followed. I wished I had on my summer clothes, which are packed away from last year.

**At the south side of Bethnal Green Road time stands still**

Home to a nice cool shower!

16th April 201816th April 2018

Nostalgia, Islington, Victoria Park…cheese

Monday, 16 April, 2018

Today, forty-five years ago (Yes! I mean Noooooo!) I was married. It was a very blustery, cool Toronto day.

**Me in my carefully chosen wedding outfit, 1973**

There were two friends on my side, and two on John’s, at the city hall ceremony. I don’t want to say too much about it – the wedding or the dinner afterwards, or the party we threw for our friends, or the aftermath – but I do think about it every year and go over the day and the years that followed.

Back to the present.

**We were waiting for Spring and then suddenly it arrived**

I’m listless. I want to do something, go somewhere, although I’m unsure what or where. Spring is happening but oh so slowly. My legs hurt. I’m tired. That’s my mood. Right. There.

We did have a nice time out on Friday. We walked along Upper Street and discovered a plaque for Kate Greenaway. To my surprise I remembered that name from my mum’s books of children’s fashion and from other childhood books. She had an instantly recognisable style and it was nice to think she would have walked those same streets.

Upper Street, St Mary's Church — Upper Street, St Mary’s Church

We walked along Chapel Market as it wound down and at the pub on the corner of Penton Street I discovered a board that was quite funny.

So I investigated. The pub is called The Joker and is a nod to Islington’s most famous resident, Joseph Grimaldi. Grimaldi was a clown – the founder of the modern day clown, in fact. He was certainly the most popular entertainer of his time (1778-1837). The pub has many photos and memorabilia of clowns and also a huge (ten-foot wide) clock (THE clock from Oasis’ ‘Be Here Now’ tour). We didn’t go in but it’s now on my list.

A quick and interesting ride on the 205 bus and we ended up in Brick Lane to have a lunch at Meraz, and to buy some ghee.

My friend Alistair’s wife Julie is Canadian. She grew up in Montreal. I find her fascinating. She’s like a bright and flitting creature with good stories and a strong sense of herself. She arrived in London and wanted to spend an afternoon with me at Victoria Park. I didn’t realise I’d be going back there for soon but the last time I went it was dull and grey and cold. On Saturday it was warm and vibrant. We visited “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” and the mural on The Morpeth Pub, then went to have a picnic.

Sitting near the duck pond, I think about my grandfather fishing in that water, putting mealworms and maggots on his hook, and me feeding the ducks with bits of bread. I wouldn’t say it feels like yesterday but I do close my eyes and imagine us there.

**Everybody was enjoying the duck pond and the Pavilion Cafe**

I want to go visit Julie in her Sussex home. Stay tuned.

And I ate the French cheese – not too impressed, I think I left it a week too long. The other cheeses continue to mature, although after piercing the guessed-at blue one I haven’t noticed any new mould growth so we shall see.

The French cheese. It never ran and I couldn't eat that rind, having seen it form — **The French cheese. It never ran and I couldn’t eat that rind, having seen it form**