I have had it in mind for some time to take a photo of a certain rather irascible-looking neighbour of ours. I finally managed to do so during today’s outing. So here he is in all his glory.

Wild Kong by Richard Orlinski

This bright red, more than life-size, gorilla stands in a frozen fit of rage in front of a recently completed block of flats. It’s size and colour make it one of the most eye-catching objects along this stretch of the Pentonville Road.

You can find more information about the artist on Richard Orlinski’s website and a more expert explanation of the work than I could attempt on his Gallery page

If I were to make any remark at all it might be that I feel somewhat resentful on behalf of gorilla-kind to see the artist perpetuating the violent stereotype, most famously embodied in the film King Kong, of a species that is in fact quite peaceable. Who can forget that film sequence of David Attenborough reclining in the midst of a family of gorillas? Artists, it seems, are not of a mind to let the truth get in the way of a good story.

In yesterday’s post, A church and a barber shop, I mentioned that there were two barbers in Amwell Street, quiet backwater though it be. Here, for completeness, is a photo of it.

ELP Barbershop

Called ELP Barbershop, its “hook” to attract customers is to offer free beer with a haircut.

When I first came to live hereabouts, this corner site bore the signage of a betting shop though I never saw it open for business. It was briefly occupied by a building firm, so briefly, in fact, that I don’t think they ever got around to painting their name over the door. The latest hopefuls have in their turn been closed down, like all “non-essential” businesses by the wretched virus.

Some businesses, I am glad to relate, have continued to thrive despite the pandemic and even to enjoy an increase in trade. One such is our coffee oasis, Myddelton’s deli. We were later than usual in calling there today and should by rights have found the door locked and bolted as they close at 3 pm at weekends. It was still open because the steady flow of customers prevented them from closing the door!

On our walk today, we turned off St John Street into Chadwell Street where this building resides.

Angel Church, Chadwell Street

It is called the Angel Church but apart from its name I know nothing about it. If you want to know more, you can click on its name and visit its website. The piece of blue plastic sheet affixed to the left pillar suggests that they have a problem with damp. The door was open but I don’t know whether they hold services. Presumably not.

I should like to know more about the building which I think is quite old and was built for someone else entirely. So far I have not found any information but will keep looking.

We stopped off at Myddelton’s deli as usual for coffee and I photographed the establishment next door to it.

Gent’s barber shop

I don’t think I can be alone in noticing what seems to be an upsurge in the number of barber shops in the last few years. Two have appeared in Amwell Street alone, this one and another one further up the hill.

I don’t know whether they all manage to find enough custom. They don’t have mine: Tigger and I both have our hair cut at one of the cheapie places. Run by East Europeans with a high turnover of staff, they offer a fast, no-frills service at moderate cost. What more do you need?

I suppose firms like Gents of London cater for men who want the full works in relatively plush surroundings. At the moment, of course, none of them are open and I wonder how many will survive.

The government has announced a two-week extension of the lockdown and I suspect that even that will not see the end of it. In the meantime, we continue as best we can, keeping calm and looking forward to our daily walk and coffee.

Playing Patience

If the above view is familiar to you, it probably means that you are have played, and perhaps still play, the one-person game called Solitaire or, as I was taught to call it, Patience. You may, like me, even have an electronic version of it on one or more of your devices.

I was introduced to this pastime by my mother. She was a devotee of the game though she, of course, played it with a deck of real playing cards. I don’t think that electronic versions of the game were ever available in her lifetime.

When I was very young, we would even play Patience together, my mother dealing out the cards and going through the pack (always in threes) and I turning over the cards as they were revealed.

Later, I played Patience by myself. When I eventually acquired a smartphone, it seemed quite natural to download an app of the game and play with that.

I play Patience often – probably much too often. There is something addictive about the game. It requires a minimum of intellectual effort but needs a certain amount of attention or you start missing possible moves.

I sometimes awake in the night with some trouble or other on my mind and find it hard to sleep again. Then I play Patience. As it’s on my iPhone, it has its own illumination so I don’t need to disturb Tigger by turning on the light.

Playing Patience usually does the trick: it calms me down and I start feeling sleepy again.

I also play Patience sometimes during the day but I try to limit it to times when I have a few minutes to spare between other activities otherwise I risk spending scandalous amounts of time on it. Addictive, as I said!

Do you also have a pastime that helps to calm you?

Lloyd & Son’s Dairy

We left it a little later than usual to go out for our constitutional and trip to Myddelton’s for coffee and so missed the early sunshine. By now the forecast had changed to rain so I took my umbrella but it didn’t seem worth opening it just for the few drops of rain that came our way.

While waiting outside the deli as Tigger, inside, negotiated the purchase of coffee, I took a photo of Lloyd & Son’s Dairy on the opposite corner. At a estimated 114 years old, it can, I think, be cherished as historically interesting and worth preserving though Historic England doesn’t seem to have listed it.

Time has wreaked its usual havoc and the once fine golden signage has suffered badly. The inside has also been remodelled by successive occupants so only the outside remains to remind us of its former glory.

Since I came to live in Islington a mere decade and a half ago, it has undergone three changes – a turnover not unusual for this street which is just a little too far from the centre to attract more than local trade.

The first business I saw here was also a grocery cum dairy but selling a rather special line of goods – I remember the owner waxing lyrical about his Welsh cheeses . Competing with Myddelton’s opposite, it disappeared in fairly short order.

Next was an establishment called Unpackaged, selling ecologically sound products. The name came from the fact that most goods came out of sacks and drums and customers were encouraged to bring their own bags and bottles. After struggling along for a while, the business moved to what was hoped to be a more promising location.

After a period of standing empty and desolate, the premises were taken over by … hairdressers!

That business has been forced to close “for the duration”, as they used to say during WWII. Will it open again? We must wait and see.

With regard to hair, I had the accidental foresight to have mine cut just before the lockdown was imposed. As I have it cut very short these days (Harold would approve!), it should last me a while. However, just in case lockdown continues, Tigger ordered a head trimmer online. It arrived today. I must admit the idea scares me but if ever we get around to using it, I shall be sure to tell you all about it!

On our walk today we saw this gallery of paintings attached to the railings in front of a house.

Gallery of art works

Done by a child, there were several pictures of rainbows and a poster wishing passers-by a “Happy Easter”.

I have seen similar displays in other streets though they are more usually attached to the front windows. This row of houses is set well back from the street, though, separated from it by a large front garden. The artist obviously realised that pictures stuck to the window would not be visible from the street and so placed them on the railings instead.

If ever I catch sight of the artist, I will thank her or him for the kind thoughts expressed. In the meantime, I shall try to carry the colourful rainbows with me in my thoughts to help keep up my spirits.