citizenED

Moos, I shall be there for the afternoon session with the two cheeky little CEDs - and back for the evening session when I've put them down.................in their beds, that is!

Gosh you cynics; there's me thinking it a heartfelt post from a local: I guess I misinterpreted.

Yep, congratulations to Mr and Mrs Cat-Onions! Float on...

Jogging is indeed horrible, HNHY. That's why I don't do it. Strolling around Dulwich Park one evening last week we were fascinated by the spectacle of a mass jog. Round and round they went, that human throng. The first two runners were the picture of human grace, strength and beauty, flying along rhythmically with such elegant bounding strides and admirable raw power. The rest of the mass, strung out pathetically behind them, looked like extras from a bad zombie movie, their inelegant lurching, asymmetrical pounding and ugly puff-puffing, wheezing and gasping, making you wonder, really, why they were bothering. Not very aesthetic.

*shuffles the paper. Shifts on seat. Licks lips enviously*

I dunno, white trainers go pretty well with my suits; particularly my birthday one.

So England played the WI and won. Funny, I didn't even know the Women's Institute had a team.

I didn't manage to catch all of this, but saw the last half and was mesmerised. Amazingly haunting and incredibly still and becalmed. The lead lead actress is something special. There is a scene about an hour in where the girl absconds from the care home and goes walk about in night-time Nottingham that was truly memorable. About ten minutes long, with no dialogue or voiced narrative - just perfect images and soundtrack saying more than any diatribe. You can see the whole film on the Channel 4 website; here

It was a lovely event again this year with a very happy community buzz. Took my two little boys and enjoyed bumping into loads of people we knew. (Though BQC, it was pretty much the same as last year weatherwise if I'm not mistaken. Were you spending too much time in the beer tent?)

Asset said " Thankfully faith schools have to have 50% of their intake from the community now, although I'm sure a bit of the temporary church attendance still goes on." I think this only for CofE schools. Catholic schools only let in Catholics.

Lenk, have you pm'd Leah to ask how her friend is? Maybe you could also ask for an independent source who could clarify clarify exactly what happened to her.

With mike ratcheting up the fear-factor on this I think it is only right to temper it by re-titling the thread. But the friend of the victim did report "..the wound was millimetres from her heart.." Have to admit that sounds like stabbing to me.

Go and have a look at the Lemon Grove, opposite Sainsburys in Forest Hill. For a smallish cafe I think they have it about right.

Childhood skipping = carefree way of progressing down the street at a jaunty pace Youth skipping = decking out your first flat with items 'taken' from skips Middle aged skipping = hiring skip and getting workmen to dump in it your old kitchen

Monday morning: the weekend promise of Spring has given way to an unexpected chill in the air. This is evident in the faces of those who share with you the 185 up to Elephant. You are not dressed sufficiently for it. The vest remains on the back of the chair back in the unheated bedroom. Across the ailse, a teenage girl slants a bitter glance at the woman beside her who in return purses her lips, almost clucking. You try to imagine the familial clash that elicited such discord. An argument over appropriate clothing? From the look of them, the mum is envious of the girl's fresh face and slender figure. She has reason to. "Look at the mother." Your dad's advice about dating. At the stop outside the Halifax a couple of likely lads skip on. You recognise one. Butler's boy? Drank down the Plough, before it got ponced up. Can be a bit tidy - that is tidy, as in nasty, with his fists, or so it goes. You sink down into your seat hunching your shoulders, your collar bristling against your neck. The comforting frission of warmth so generated is countered by the proximity of the other bodies, left and right. Close and sour smelling, like packed meat. In your pocket you strengthen your grip on your father's watch. Having finally summoned the will to visit, a wave of wariness descends upon you. What chance anything untoward happening before you get to there after work?

I'm thinking of the 1988/89 season. Arsenal beating Liverpool by the two clear goals they needed to win the title. Hope springs eternal...

Hedging my bets, is it BigBadWoofMarktheDog?

No it's not, ????'s and you know very well. I got the first one, so here's my attempt: "100"

But Mullet Man is a classic Ashes to Ashes throwback. Keep your eyes open around Grove Vale.

That's fantastic. I correctly spotted that *Bob*'s post was written in the style of the Times Literary Supplement.

TLS?

Ooops. This is an odd place at times. coopercat, take all the comments after yours as a homage to the skilful phrasing of your first post. You set us up!

Lenk just loves it here. It's a cosy little enclave and he likes nothing better than sticking his oar in and stirring.

That would be here.

Hurrah! Hats off to you Brendan and your good-deed doing. Have a word with the guy on the corner house - he might be able to water them when he hoses his garden.