They said it would rain. And it didn't.
Yesterday we went on our favourite local walk: Foots Cray Meadows. I'd never been there till a couple of years ago. Thought we'd try it though as a change from the woods where we were always nervous of meeting the local big cat.
There are no lynx or panthers here, though. A great variety of dogs with their owners. And on the river there are ducks and coots. No babies yet but hopefully soon.
The river in the picture is the River Cray, a tributary of the Thames. This is its widest and deepest part and there is strictly no fishing here as it is for wildlife only. Some swans were shot here with air rifles last year.
Doesn't the water look inviting? No? It looks pretty clean to me. And it would have done to my dad in the early post-war years. Because this is where he and his friends learned to swim. Copying the coots and the ducks? Paddling for dear life? Maybe. You can see it was all sepia then. This area wasn't part of London, it was on the edge of a North Kent village with its independent brewery and its council houses, one of which saw the birth of my dad and the deaths of my grandparents. I spent a year in the house when I was four and shit scared of the wallpaper in my bedroom.
On the way there yesterday we walked past a hall hosting a record and CD fair. This was right up our street as we can't resist a bargain. They let us in for free so I felt obliged to spend £24 on seven CDs, bargains all.
They must've thought they'd never get rid of that John Cale CD, that Can CD, that Box Tops CD or that Edgar Broughton Band CD. The latter band were recommended by the great Boggins and I always listen to my elders and betters. I'm even currently reading a book by Harlan Coben, an author recommended by Vicus, so you see I really do have the greatest respect for those who've lived a bit and still got all their own marbles.
I suppose you've all found mine and Betty's new blog, Search Me. It's not a serious creative blog like our others but there to illustrate just what type of people we are spending hours trying to entertain.
You're all mad.
So both you and Oscar Wilde had issues with your wallpaper. On his death bed, his last words were "My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One or the other of us has to go."
ReplyDeleteThere's nothing worse if you're feeling feverish (I had measles in that room).
ReplyDeleteThe wallpaper was coming to get me.
Many times I drove past there and never ever went in. I'm surprised it's still got water in, the Darenth is usually dried up by now. Have you ever been over to the nature trail at Horton Kirby?
ReplyDeleteSorry for the dreadful local knowledge type post, I will do better in future.
Don't go in, Richard. Strictly no swimming.
ReplyDeleteWe usually start from Bexley Village, up by the side of The Railway Tavern.
We've been to Horton Kirby once I think (don't remember the nature trail). My dad took me fishing a few times at Horton Kirby about 300 years ago.
A Horton Kirby CC 11 were playing a Bexley CC 11 on Saturday as we walked past. The 12 year old bowler was getting smashed all over the park.
Bring on the Horton Kirby searches!
Vicus has all his marbles? Have you counted recently?
ReplyDeleteI would go swimming there - looks fab.
I said no swimming, Caroline.
ReplyDeleteDo you want to get me into more trouble? They've already confiscated my air rifle.