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or the inaugural expedition of the urban ramblers' association, or how little hannah fisher got me to fall in love with south london.

i've been off all this week and i've done a lot of reading, a fair amount of walking and a tiny bit of writing. i've also been doing my exercises, including one that is a complete killer but is probably doing my thighs the power of good. but the best thing so far has been my trip to london at  the weekend. lhf wandered around bits of london like proper psychogeographers. i felt like a less organised, less grumpy iain sinclair. we're a good combination as lhf is good at reading maps and i've got a good sense of direction. the only pre-requiste of urban rambling was that if something caught our eye, we went and had a look at it. we were treated to peeking monuments wherever we went - peeking monuments are great. the best was southwark cathedral, which looked like it was properly hiding appart from four little towers. the gherkin also did some fantastic peeking. i have some photos, i will post them on monday.

The birthday party

No, i'm not Harold Pinter.

 

a good thing about winter

good old february, holding onto winter's tail so it doesn't hurtle too quickly into spring. it's colder now than it's been all season. but the upside of that is the sky. wow, this morning at 6.40 rather than it being pitch black, it was bright orange and i could see to put my clothes on. outside the light was fabulous, almost surreal as it often is on slightly misty, very frosty mornings. 

i didn't achieve much at the weekend as i appeared to be good only for watching midsomer murders and trying, not completely successfully, to unblock the bath.

okay, on the theme of poetry about ex girlfriends, here are another couple:

questioning the sense

of starting up a live journal for writing when i'm feeling so frankly uninspired. is it the time of year, is it simply just my hormones? who knows. but just to keep things ticking along, here's a poem i wrote a little while ago. ah eve, she's now a heterosexual jungian consellor but that's not my fault.