Alex K

Thanks for letting us know, and -- KatDew -- thanks for the heads-up on the Saturday theft from a car parked on Abbotswood. B*stards.

Aren't those handsome! No place for them where I live -- but I wish you success.

Mr Gutsell, keep me in mind; PM me should this go forward. I can bring along a garden fork and help with a couple of hours' worth of forking open and bending down and dropping in. Silverfox, if the bushes were to be pulled out, I'd be in your corner. But I don't read Mr Gutsell's posting as a statement that they will be. Instead: Colour around and between; and colour that dies, yes, but next year (Lord willing) is back again. That crocus lawn at the Horniman Museum has been a joy to me for ten years and more -- so far as I know it largely takes care of itself. (A f'r-instance.) I'm projecting here, mind you, but perhaps Mr Gutsell is hoping to create something of the sort in a few other corners of our neighbourhood.

Still no information on what the tree is. Hmmm. Trees near houses: Not a problem IF they're clipped back, espaliered; think of wisteria. Have spent a few hours in the last few weeks spading up flower-beds and setting out bulbs, then on top pansies, then on top field-poppy seeds. (Wish me luck.) Remarkable how, under trees, DRY the soil is. The quantities of water transpired through vegetation must be amazing -- rainfall even of a couple of inches, to judge by the bucket outside my back-garden door, doesn't soak in deep. So... when the trees are no more / we shall swim for shore.

Can't imagine that the works were carried out without council assent. Are you in a position to enquire, James? If so... well, thanks for shouldering yet another burden, and do you want something ink-on-paper to point at?

"Eight to ten years"... good golly! I really AM that old! Whose responsibility, then, is that arc of lights? Time to write a letter. In green ink.

A few years back some lovely work was done at the East Dulwich station forecourt, with new paving and lights set into an arc along the walkway. Yesterday evening, returning home after a late dinner, I noted -- the lights are not on! Is this very attractive feature no longer being maintained? Is it the stationmaster's remit, or the council's? Can it be restored or repaired? Hoping, frankly, that it was a one-off, with someone forgetting to flick the appropriate switch on leaving for the day...

This morning I saw a lad stowing his bike -- I had thought that their users were mythical, but he seemed quite fleshly.

What an exercise in eyestrain! I'd have no idea whatsoever how to orient myself without the railway lines -- and picking them out is no bowl of cherries.

Remarkable that your neighbour elected to fell her tree because its leaves appeared to be affected by a disease... Du calme, and all that.

Maxxi, this website REQUIRES a LIKE button. Or at least your posts do.

Oh, for Heaven's sake. The shoplifter didn't take packets of meat because he was hungry. He took them to flog at the nearest pub. CASH = ACCESS TO DRUGS (including tobacco / alcohol).

Coo! Or do I mean 'Cor!'?

The highway code is clear -- the pedestrians are in the right. Dead right. Walk defensively, folks.

Oh, KalamityKel! How waspish you become when the bottle is left within your reach! I did survive, and I am happy that I did, so that I might receive your just rebuke. uncleglen, yes; consensus on the St Francis estate was that someone had set tyres alight. Of course the consensus was wrong, but the dark, thick character of the smoke brought that possibility to the fore for observers here.

Forget Istanbul. Try Constantinople instead.

Plans to post a menu where passersby can read it...?

From smoke to stench -- the evening air here on Abbotswood Road has that reek of wet burnt.

@*bob* -- addictive indeed. Disconcerting how the incoming flights vanish from the viewscreen as they cross the perimeter fence. Crashed? Burnt? Safely landed? A bit of taxiway action to calm the newbie, please.

The pendant or counterpart to "real" property is "personal" property. A parcel or tract of land, legally defined, and "improvements" made thereupon; counterpart / pendant, chattels, property susceptible of being transferred from place to place. But you knew that.

Background first: A wedge of real property to the west of the railway line between East Dulwich and North Dulwich, with access possible only through Talbot Road (at present), extending south behind the first few houses on the east side of Abbotswood Road -- all this is on the St Francis Estate, which is the little cul-de-sac settlement to the left and ahead as one drives into the Dog Kennel Hill superstore carpark -- has been the object of attempts at "development" on several occasions. It is an odd little sliver of land that might work best as a bramble reserve. But, using shoehorns and Vaseline, something could of course be built on it. Discussion has centred on what sorts of constructions would not damage mature trees, overlook neighbouring houses, block light to those houses, evict bats, and so on. A sports club was proposed; that was turned down. Most recently, to erect a set of houses has been put forward; that, too, has been turned down (http://planningonline.southwark.gov.uk, application 12/AP/2220). This decision by Southwark Council can be appealed within six months, and may be. Thanks extended to those readers who elected to comment on the most recent proposal.

When you get into Boston, you'll have a chance to assess where the colour is best -- north into Vermont, early in the season; west into Massachusetts, ditto; or, later, when only the tans and browns of beeches and oaks persist in the north and west, down into Rhode Island and along the Connecticut shore for the purple of sumac and liquidambar / sweet-gum, red of maple, golden of maple and ash. Choose your destinations accordingly, I suppose, and say hello to The Elms at Newport for me.

@RedDevil -- My, I enjoyed that. Thank you.

If they were renters, the letting agency will know where to find them. If they were owners and have let where they used to live, ditto. Good luck tracing them - and your cat.

Let's give Green Goose some credit; whilst civilservant might have conducted earnest discussions with the foxes in an effort to encourage them to modify their behaviour, leading up to and including the services of a professional conflict mediator, Green Goose realised from the outset something that continues to escape civilservant: Foxes aren't GUARDIAN readers. The bait with emetic strikes me as absolutely brilliant in conception. Thank you, Green Goose.