Damp and cold

The east of England has been affected by snow and perhaps other regions as well. London, however, has not had any snow but has been subject to good old fashioned rain.

We’ve had good old fashioned rain
We’ve had good old fashioned rain

Tigger has ordered some items online. Well, it’s how we live and do our shopping in these troubled times, isn’t it? It’s easy and convenient and they actually bring the goods to your door. What’s not to like?

Well, for one thing, having to wait around for the expected ring on the doorbell. For this particular purchase, delivery has been promised for today… any time up to 10 pm. That means that if we want to be sure of receiving the delivery, we have to stay indoors, possibly until a late hour.

Reflections in a puddle
Reflections in a puddle

So what are we going to do – stay at home and wait? Not quite. It takes a lot to deter Tigger from her daily coffee. We decided to make a quick dash to the deli, hoping that the parcel will not arrive in the meantime.

The title says it is “damp and cold”. The weatherman says that it is 4°C out there which is chilly but not exactly cold. But it felt cold and that, after all, is what counts.

Wreath - another survivor
Wreath – another survivor

The path we followed is one that we have followed many times before and will no doubt follow many times again in these days of semi-confinement in which we are all living. In Claremont Square we spotted this wreath, one of the earliest to appear and now one of the straggling band of survivors long after Christmas.

The face in the “area”
The face in the “area”

As we progressed round the square (it seems odd to say that we went round a square but I can’t think of a more appropriate word), I looked for the lion’s head plaque that I know is at one of the houses here and saw that there was also this humanoid face. I had not noticed it before. It gazes sternly down at the “area”. Perhaps it was always there and I was too interested in the lion to notice it.

(In case you are wondering about my use of the word “area”, this has traditionally been applied to the open space below street level that gives access, via its own door, to the basement. In times past, the basement held the kitchen and was where the cook and the servants were to be found when not busy in the rooms above. If you have watched the TV series Upstairs, Downstairs, you will have often heard this word used in exactly the way I describe. Nowadays, when most of these houses have been divided into flats, the “area” provides access to the basement flat.)

A glimpse down Cruikshank Street
A glimpse down Cruikshank Street

We did not walk down Cruikshank Street today as we sometimes do but I took a quick snap of it. The sky was dull but the sun was trying to shine through and managed a pale glimmer from time to time.

Accidental photo
Accidental photo

I didn’t take this photo on purpose – in fact, I didn’t know it existed until I returned home. Perhaps I shouldn’t say “accidental” but call it “Spontaneous No 12” or some such, and make out that it is intended as “art photography”, a category in whose existence I have difficulty believing.

Shop window
Shop window

This shop window in Amwell Street always attracts my attention because it is host to a small number of disparate objects. From time to time, I notice changes – once there was even a pair of lives cats who used appear here and with whom I played “Follow my finger on the window” – but there doesn’t seem to be a coherent pattern. (The goose, of course, is stuffed.)

Rain-soaked notice
Rain-soaked notice
Photo by Tigger

We were amused by this item. Someone had attached a notice to the post and enclosed it in a transparent cover to protect it from the weather but they unfortunately put the opening at the top and it has collected quite a lot of the rain – the opposite of what was intended!

Self-indulgence: coffee and custard tarts
Self-indulgence: coffee and custard tarts

And so we arrived at Middleton’s deli. There was already a customer within and as it is quite a small shop, we waited politely outside. When it was our turn, we saw that they had Portuguese custard tarts. We could have resisted (or could we?) but we didn’t. Self-indulgent indeed.

The awaited package arrived at 5:07, while I was writing this. Had we known it would arrive at this time, we could have had a longer walk but at least we will not be disturbed this evening.

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