Finally some warm glorious weather. I got home from class this evening and it was so sunny. I successfully inflated the Duchess’s tyres and we were on our way. First some little back lanes and then dodging people on Church street and then finally to Clissold Park. Everyone was out, enjoying the weather. Little, excited dogs everywhere, kids on tiny cycles or skates. The ducks in the ponds too seemed to be soaking it in (at least until a hyperactive spaniel chased them off the grass). It felt great to be cycling again. In little lanes, speeding down slopes, around the ponds. All in the bright evening sun. Long days, welcome back!
Today was the perfect day to stay at home or “be local”. It snowed for most of the day and for a change I could manage to relax around the house without getting restless or feeling like I was wasting my life. A late breakfast, accompanied by classic FM, some light cleaning (drain, ugghhh) and laundry, and some fun cooking – french beans and tur dal interspersed with staring out of the window. I heard some birds chirping outside and left some bread crumbs outside the door and on my balcony, thinking it must be tough for them to get grub with all the snow. I trudged out to Abney Park cemetery once again today, sliding on the pavements in the gritty slush. It looked even more beautiful today than it did yesterday. The falling snowflakes made everything surreal. The ground was icy but pristine white. I walked in the park’s little paths, feeling like the only person in the whole place. The trees and little plants were completely laden with snow. The occasional bush would heave and its leaves would try and shake off some of their soft burden. I encountered a few more birds, many were singing. Perhaps they too were excited with the beauty of the whole scene. Back home, it was time for the kettle and another cup of tea.
I didn’t carry my trusty Nikon today because I didn’t want to expose it to the snow (and sorely missed having a compact camera) but here are some more photos from yesterday. All the branches on these trees were covered in white today, it was magical.
This had been a very long week indeed. Granted that I hadn’t taken a break during the holiday season but just the very thought of seeing the office full and buzzing was enough to lower me into a state of blues on monday morning. And then the week itself – oh so hectic. By Friday, everyone was so snappy, irritable and frustrated, it was obvious that pretty much everyone felt the same way. After work, some of us decided to go look at ice sculpting in progress while sipping on hot glu wine. This was at Wood Wharf, connected to Canary Wharf via a small bridge. It was all lit up and as we approached it, I could see lights dancing on the water’s surface and it felt, if only for a nanosecond, like the festivities weren’t over just yet. The sculptors were busy at work, sawing away at their frozen blocks of raw material, lit with pink lights, while people huddled about watching them. For me the mulled wine was the best part – nice and hot, to hold and to drink. To cherish and to savour, until well until the last drop do you apart.
Once the wine was over, I just wanted to get out of there. There’s only so much you want to see of the people you work with after a point on friday (not applicable to all colleagues, and especially not applicable to my lovely group at my previous job whom I was always happy to hang out with). I headed home, the evening standard, my usual companion with me. I finally managed to convince my west-London inhabiting friend to come visit Hackney. He thought the whole place had an air of council housing but then the bastard hasn’t seen the charming Victorian houses all around Stokey.
I dragged my pal to Punjab 58 for some good old North Indian cooking. I love having Indian food with other Indians. Unfortunately a lot of my colleagues here tell me that to them all Indian food tastes the same. Obviously they are talking about “curry” and this dosh isn’t always Indian food. Anyway, we had the most awesome meal – chickpea and potato salad for starters, palak paneer, yellow daal, chapatis and rice. There was no place for dessert after that! I have to say that I love Punjabi cooking, and Indian cooking in general. The form, the colours, the unique flavours and how you can construct a different taste with each bite, the presence of sweet and tangy and spicy all on the same plate. I was quite pleased with the place and the fact that it is so close to home. Definitely worth another visit.
Today the sleep deficit of the past couple of weeks finally caught up and I woke up around mid-day. Breakfast was the last remaining slice of a pizza I’d ordered on Tuesday. It’s been a lazy day and the most I exerted myself was to get some groceries to stock up for the week. I watched a chick flick – Two weeks notice – and I sobbed a bit. I have to say it wasn’t the best and Sandra Bullock (though I love her) and Hugh Grant don’t have much chemistry together.
Tomorrow is ‘no trousers on the tube’ day. Which means there will be loads of people on the London Underground without pants. This I gotta see!