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Monday 14th May 2018.

Sunshine begins the morn..rubber tyres on tarmac in a rush heralds the new working week for those that still perform...i shall retreat to the garden and potter about i need a rest from a couple of black dog days which advancing age brings it is not all gas and gaters, as i pulled on my wrinkled stockings this morning i thought lets have a good day or at least two on the bounce...as the weekend end was filled with joy and sod it Saturday called with a train ride to London a march with thousands protesting over the Tory Govt some thing which i think half my life has been cemented to..i even heard that dreadful word Thatcher uttered on the March...i admired those speakers at the end of the rally in Hyde Park stilling pouring out words which fell on a few ears in the rain and mostly soaked up by the new green leaves on the trees around Hyde Park as the rest of London got on with the day probably used to all this retoric that sadly gets the working classes...no further than their cross in the ballot box...As i wrapped up my small union banner stood in the poring rain turning from the make shift stage and simply watching the crowd my most visual rememberance memory will be of a lady sat on a fold up chair picnic basket out having lunch in the pouring rain..Only..Only in England would you find that...thankfully some parts of England has not changed no matter what happens in politics or how many peoples from abroad swamp this green land old ladies will always picnic...in the rain.
Back to Euston Train Station via the famous Oxford Road dripping with shops in bright lights some wonderful dresses one could dream off pulling over wrinkled stockings but i was in company that perhaps the word transvestite might shock them whilst eating their chocolate bars i could not doddle sigh or simply point at the glass it was a case of drink in and smile inwards..however at least i had a good day away from this town in the Manchester Basin that is simply alive with everything to do with road humps traffic wardens rather than plant a summer of love...So Goeth...x

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bichoose
bichoose

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