An Unkindness of Ravens

I can undersdtand why Oliver Cromwell removed the palacial buildings from the Tower and ended its function as a royal residence. The Tower is very fortified with several walls and a moat. It's essentially a fortress and it would be unwise for the monarchy to remain in such a secure building and position of power.

We've had to have our monarchy exposed and unstable to effect parliamentary power and the (so called) reign of the people. For 350 years we've been unable to let the monarchy go altogether, but rather just have them there, unsure as to quite where they should go or what they should do.

I say put them back in the Tower, brick them in like the Princes of old and rid ourselves of that unkindness of ravens once and for all.

Southbank Holiday

We caught a boat to the Tate Modern from Greenwich. It takes about 10mins and lands you almost at the door. We walked around the Surrealism and Beyond exhibition as Iris slept. Sara and I spotted a few gaffs in the exhibition:

Firstly Paul Nash. Is this guy treally an artisit or just related to the curator? He had one picture that looked like shabby result of a GCSE Art & Design student after taking their first mushroom trip and 'really getting into surrealism'. It was utter tosh. This surely cannot be a real, acclaimed artist?

Secondly, Joan Miro: Brilliant but is it strictly speaking Surrealism? Andre Breton described him as 'The Most Surrealist of us all'. However, his work just seemed out of place in this exhibition.

Anyway we wandered along the Southbank and paid a visit to The Real Greek Souvlaki and all unconsciously agreed, whilst silently devouring our kebabs, that ultimately food was better than art.

Gosling Guardian

I'm amazed that this pair of Geese were able to bring up 8 goslings. It's the longest parade I've seen this summer. I'm surprised that some East London chav kids haven't stoned them to death if behaviour in our local park is anything to go by.

My lover and best mate Sara, mother of my child, is a protector of Goslings and all fluffy little baby birds. She's been known to scream and yell in the faces of chav kids and park pond attendants whilst simultaneously phoning the park warden and RSPB. She's saved a couple of stranded Goslings and a young Kestrel to date.

So, bird haters, watch out.

Life's A Man Made Temporary Beach

Once, out with Club, we walked down from the RFH (never get off the boat!) and strolled down the ancient stone steps onto the Thames Beach. This is a pebble beach accessible at low tide that someone has covered in sand.

The beach was full of 14 year old kids all racing around screaming their heads off. We assumed they were on Crystal Meth (aren't all kids these days?) and proceeded to attempt to buy some off them. Mike tried to chat them up. They divided themselves into three gangs: The Sea Horses, the Sea Crabs and the Sea Urchins. We never fully understood the significance of the gang nomenclature as our enquiry into that and into the possibility of them sharing their 'ice' came to an abrupt end when one of the urchins piped up 'er, hello Mr Grumbridge'.

We soon realised that we were in fact 'hanging out' with (and in Mike's case 'chatting up') friends of our daughters. Luckily we discovered they weren't on Crystal Meth afterall; just Red Bull and Pro-plus.