This afternoon I had a little errand to run in Amwell Street and took a few photos on the way. I hope this makes up for the lack of pictures in this morning’s post 🙂

St Mark’s and my curly tree

Though I have photographed Myddelton Square and St Mark’s Church many times already, I photographed the church and my “curly tree” again because they shone so becomingly in the sunlight. Having “discovered” the curvaceous tree on the corner, I have become very fond of it and always look for it when I pass this way.

Georgian-style door with fanlight

I have photographed and written about Georgian houses and their features, including their doors and fanlights but this one seemed such a good example of the genre that I photographed it too. The fanlight is a particularly fine one, simple, delicately elegant with the house number in the centre.

Notice too, the boot scraper to the left of the doorstep. All the houses once had one or even two of these but many have become broken or have been removed. The streets are no longer as muddy – or strewn with horse dung – as they were in Victorian times, so the boot scrapers have lost their function. Those that remain are souvenirs of a past age.

Looking south along Amwell Street

Amwell Street is our “village high street”, though it is not like any village high street you have ever seen. For one thing, half the shops never open because their occupants now do their business online. Others are specialist shops or designer clothes shops. Yet we still have a vet’s surgery, a dry cleaner’s, a coffee shop, a delicatessen, a chemist’s and three – yes, three – barbers. We also have a pillar box which is a reminder of the post office that was so rudely snatched away from us.

If you visually follow the line of parked cars on the right, you may just about make out the red awning. That is the famous Myddelton’s delicatessen where we often buy our coffee.

Looking north along Amwell Street

Oh yes, and of course, we have the pub, called The George & Monkey. The publican is the one called George but I have yet to meet the monkey.

King’s Chemist’s

And finally, this is the chemist’s shop – or pharmacy, if you prefer – the object of my errand. I don’t know how old the pharmacy is but would guess it is Victorian. Inside, among other period features, it has the typical set of wooden drawers marked with the abbreviated Latin names of their chemical contents.

If you thought I also popped into Myddelton’s for takeaway coffee, then you would would be right! If and when some kind of normality resumes and life picks up its interrupted rhythm, we shall have fewer opportunities to call in to the deli and we shall miss it. We have become so used to our present way of life that it is “normal” life that will seem anomalous to us then.

Today was the day to collect our laundry which was being given a service wash at the local launderette, as explained yesterday.

The “window” for collection was between 1 and 3 pm and as Tigger had an online team meeting for her work at that time, I volunteered to go alone, brave little soldier that I am.

The temperature now being in the mid-20s (°C), I decided to take the bus both ways. On the way down, I miscalculated and went a stop too far. Ho, hum, never mind, a short walk corrected the error. The real problem, unbeknownst to me at this point, would be the return journey…

At the launderette, they had not managed to pack the laundry as well as Tigger had done (Tigger has a real talent for packing) so, in addition to the trolley, there was a large and heavy plastic bag. This was too big too carry with one hand. Happily, I managed to attach it to the trolley with elastic bungee straps. The result was heavy and a little unwieldy but I could manage it.

Carefully crossing the road, I confidently made for the bus stop… only to find it closed! (The excuse was “Emergency works” of which there was no sign.) So I set out resolutely on foot for the next stop… only to see the bus sail past me when I was just a few yards away from it!

As there was only one more stop to go, it didn’t seem worth wasting time waiting for the next bus. I set out on foot once more…

St John Street slopes gently upward, a fact that you probably don’t notice unless you are dragging a heavy trolley in hot sunlight. At least no more buses overtook me, justifying my decision not to wait.

I arrived at home at last, heaving the trolley up the three steps to the front door.

Tigger made me tea and lunch which I am consuming while enjoying a cooling breeze from my desk fan.

All we have to do now is sort out the laundry and put it away…