Brrrrrrrr!!!
It's winter. 
Mornings that aren't frosty are misty... puddles freeze overnight on the footpath... coming home at twenty past four feels like the middle of the night... and standing for longer than a few minutes at the bus stop makes you uncomfortably aware of your feet. Everyone's breath billows in hazy clouds
and sometimes all that keeps you going is the thought of fish and chips. I've been quite tickled by my acquisition of a - well, what IS it? it's black, made of wool, part shawl, part cape, I guess... it has fringey edges, and swirls about me quite dramatically in the wind, and can be draped in any way I choose, 
muffling my neck or hiding my hands in its folds. I tend to feel like I'm leaving the house wearing a picnic blanket, but then I persuade myself that it's more Zorro than Tea On The Lawn. In any case, I don't care, because it's WARM.
and sometimes all that keeps you going is the thought of fish and chips. I've been quite tickled by my acquisition of a - well, what IS it? it's black, made of wool, part shawl, part cape, I guess... it has fringey edges, and swirls about me quite dramatically in the wind, and can be draped in any way I choose, 
muffling my neck or hiding my hands in its folds. I tend to feel like I'm leaving the house wearing a picnic blanket, but then I persuade myself that it's more Zorro than Tea On The Lawn. In any case, I don't care, because it's WARM.
5 comments:
Bbbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrr indeed! How marvellous would it be to have a white Christmas??
Kathryn, you are another gifted observer of a London winter. I just had to share this TS Eliot with you...
The winter evening settles down
With smell of steak in passageways.
Six o'clock
The burnt-out ends of smoky days.
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves about your feet
And newspapers from vacant lots;
The showers beat
On broken blinds and chimney pots,
And at the corner of the street
A lonely cab horse steams and stamps
And then the lighting of the lamps.
When do we see a photo of you in the black cape?
more beautiful pics
just call it a "wrap"... ;)
:lol: And as usual, Em, you've managed to get right to the heart of the matter while I waffle on around the edges :D Yes, of course it's a wrap, a word that didn't even occur to me.
Mama, I've thought of that poem so often over the last week or so... uncanny timing.
And yes, Sharon - a white Christmas would indeed be marvellous :D It's not like the tube would be running anyway ;)
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