Aha, the sun is gloriously wonderful isn’t it? I mean, I know I go on about being a winter person because I enjoy stomping around in a Lenin coat, but when the warm summer days actually arrive and you can spend your days lying and chatting on the grass of the Harvey Court gardens it’s hard to feel aggrieved. It’s probably doing wonders for my food budgeting, too, given as it’s so much easier to just forget meals in the summer.*
So… blogging material. Don’t have much, to be honest! The lack of exams (sorry everyone else) is giving the term a mightily relaxed feel. Although on the subject of exams, I do want to officially – because everything I write here is clearly ‘official’ – wish the best of luck to everyone about to do GCSEs. AS and A2 too, of course, but I’m thinking of Natasha in particular here 
Good luck!
*Eating three meals a day is an important part of a healthy lifestyle and can in no way be made up with biscuits, kids.
Swift work made of a Boris poster
Well, as expected, the elections were awful. A wipeout of Labour nationally, a resurgent Tory party riding high, but worst of all (to me) is Ken losing to Boris. I have such a keen sense of the last great survivor who we’ve lost. At least with no chance to screw up a third term we can step back and admire what he did for London – and there’s a lot that Boris owes to him, because he was London’s first mayor and made the job what it is. Independent of New Labour, the number of people who showed up on Thursday to support him prove that he was one of a kind, and it’s anyone’s guess when we’ll see another like him. One day.
And worse that Boris – much, much worse – is the fact that the BNP candidate won a seat on the Assembly. Powerless, sure, but what a symbol: a great world city elected a nasty man from a viciously racist party as one of its representatives. It certainly makes Boris looks harmless in comparison, I suppose, and we should give him the benefit of the doubt now. He won the election fair and square – though with a little help from the wretched Standard – and I hope he makes the best of it.
Anyway… I’ve bought myself a new phone as a treat of distraction and Lucy came to visit, which was lovely! We had a mini-picnic with Joe, Sophie and a duck (with little ducky feet) this afternoon; Sophie, this photo’s for you!
Come to us, duck!
Stay strong, London. We’ll get through this 
(Oh, and congrats to Brent & Harrow for bucking the trend! Knew my homeland would come through!)
As this post publishes the polls in the London mayoral elections will have just closed, so if the tone is a bit defeatist at least this is coming out safely after every last vote has been cast! Hopefully tomorrow evening will have a surprise to celebrate about, but who can say…? Thanks to everyone who tried to stop him!
Time will say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.
If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.
‘Energetic’ and ‘imaginative’ best describe the 4-year-old. Often impatient and silly, they discover humour and spend a great deal of time being silly and telling you ‘jokes.’ A 4-year-old’s language may range from silly words such as ‘batty-watty’ to profanity. Loud, boisterous laughter may accompany such language. Imagination suddenly becomes greater than life for the 4-year-old, who often confuses reality and ‘make-believe.’ Wild stories and exaggerations are common.
Continuing the trend from last year, I thought I’d let you into the developmental stages of the average 4-year old, as today this blog celebrates yet another birthday! Sometimes I feel a little bit like My Family – scorned by the critics who prefer meatier stuff but plodding along quite happily nonetheless, albeit with drastically declining standards…
Anyway, I had hoped to bring you something in the way of history – perhaps an e-mail happily announcing the blog to the world? – but I found nothing of interest at all back in April 2004, and very very interesting things from May 2004 which unfortunately have nothing to do with this blog. (No, I’m not saying anything more… other than that they prove someone a liar, and someone else deeply forgetful. All in the past, though )
Back in the present: essay title is tricky, and I’m really not sure how I’m going to answer it, but I have some more time yet before I have to decide. And the weather is still lovely!
Action shot!
So Sophie, Joe, Irfan, Oliver, Owen, Abi and I finally went punting! Check out some of the photos in the yes-this-is-the-first-one-in-ages photo gallery, or the full set on Facebook.
Linda Moffitt on Colombia: “Such a sweet memory of the four of you meeting up in Colombia!” Dec 2, 07:42
