I do like London. For all its faults, to wander around museums full of beauty then amble around a glorious park where the squirrels are so tame you can hand-feed them, where you can happily do almost twice the recommended 10,000 without noticing or hurting; well, there's a lot to be said for that.
I went there yesterday with a dear friend and some of our children. Oh dear me no, I could never take ALL of my children out with me. I have millions of them and they fight each other all the time. Plus I find it's the older offspring who have an interest in art, history and fashion that are the most appreciative of the V&A. Toddlers really don't get it. And the look of alarm on the faces of the staff, although almost a joy to behold, does get wearing. We ARE quite capable of ensuring our progeny don't wee on your carpet, honest...
Managing to zap myself, exhibits and other people after being charged by the lift was also amusing. One takes ones jollies where one can, after all, life is short. The amount of charge lifts everywhere fill me with, I imagine mine will be very short indeed and end with an unfortunate incident with a cheap carpet and a light switch.
We all tried on crinolines and corsets, took pictures and giggled, and admired the beauty, and the innovation and sheer, wondrous talent of people who had gone before us. A jewel given to Francis Drake by Elizabeth I almost brought me to tears; not because of what it is - but because of who had touched it, owned it, because of the history it had seen and been imbued with.
Everything I see, I wonder who touched it, owned it, who were they, what were they like. I can never help marvelling at the sights things have witnessed. Sometimes, you can almost see the ghosts-but-nots.
A walk past Harrods brought us to the lunchtime dilemma. M&S or McDonalds? Like you need to ask.
Yes, I did eat M&S sushi on a bench in Hyde Park whilst throwing the reduced-price cocktail sausages to the magpies.
As well as a strange, quiet beauty, London parks also have a wonderful and quirky attraction.
Squirrels.
Now seals, they hate me. Apparently, my black clothes remind them on a visceral level, of the shadow of a shark coming at them. I don't know the truth, but I met some seals and they completely blanked me, whilst being all over my colleague. But I can deal with that. Because squirrels love me.
Yes, I have made the jokes about nuttiness and tree-trunk legs. (You may not, however). But the fact is, me and squirrels? We have an understanding.
My soul churns and yearns all the time. My mind is never ever still. Sleep has always been problematic for me, because the cogs are never ever still. Whether it be problems, or the design of the miniature lawnmower I'm working on, myriad things; my mind never stops. But when I'm sitting on the path of a park, hand feeding squirrels, is one of the rare times I am still inside.
It's always even more fun, when tourists have been filming the squirrels for ages, trying to feed them, but being resolutely ignored, when I make the kisskiss-noise at the squirrels who then come bounding over and take food from my hand. There are probably many photos around the world, dating back from 17 years ago, of a strange bint in a long black frock, dark glasses and red lipstick, hand-feeding squirrels or being climbed up and then having my bag raided by said tree-dwellers. And the happiness that their trust gives me is long-lasting.
It's also a bloody good way of getting rid of those excess biscuits.
But the highlight of the day, for me, was the rain. As we approached the Houses of Parliament, I could tell by the beautiful light that it was coming, and then it was there. That heavy, heavy summer rain that feels like it could tear the flesh from your bones if you'd only just let it. As people ran with umbrellas, yelling and exclaiming like the world was ending, I just looked to the sky and embraced it, glad to be alive and feeling this.
My companions pulling my into the station stopped my notions of removing my shoes and dancing in puddles however. Which is probably just as well...
It was good to finally be home, of course. To see my myriad offspring, my husband and cats, to wash the city out of my hair then collapse into bed.
But oh oh oh, London gives a lovely light.
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