Dru, Steinbeck and the Book of Deer

Dear Juliet Today was the 10th anniversary of my mother's death. I wanted to sit for a while in church and remember her, but there was a funeral so I had to move fast. Such is life. I got briefly into the Lady Chapel, paid my respects and got out quick. But if you're expecting some screed about family values, don't worry. I went no-contact with my own sister and I don't regret it one iota. She was plain horrible. People actually love being judgmental, but they almost invariably do it without full knowledge of the circumstances or feelings of others so I try not to fall into that trap. As Atticus Finch once said in To Kill a Mockingbird : "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view ... until you climb into his skin and walk around in it." I might hear from my niece and nephew one day, but I suspect they're too involved with their smartphones (honestly, can you marry one of the things?) to bother. Okay, that's e...

Dear Juliet It's late on a Tuesday night, verging on Wednesday. I am indeed bleary and incoherent, as tired as I was on the original trek and looking for the words which said you were worth every moment of it and I'd do it again in a second, even if I had to walk. Actually, I think that was about it... Well, you were. You were the heart and soul of it all, and that's all there is to it. You still are, too. I think, for tonight, that'll have to do. Love, James

Dear Juliet I have to walk to the hospital at New Cross now and come back to five calls and a heatwave, so it'll be a hot time in the old town tonight. I'll write another blog post late on (my time) but it will probably be a bit bleary and incoherent. I'm near the end of the chemo-pills course, though, and all the lights seem green... Oh, and Keir Starmer resigned. I might work it up into a story sometime by saying that I was at the gates of Downing Street on Friday and he was out by Monday, but I'm quite sorry for him and we seem to be turning into another Italy, changing prime ministers from week to week... I suppose L.A. is hotter, though. I hope you're all right; and remember that all you have to do is be yourself. Nobody's perfect. Love, James

Dear Juliet All the faces of the Globe... I believe you'll act there one day. Love, James

Dear Juliet Just a brief one this morning as I'm at work this afternoon! I took a few more pictures of the candles at Southwark, so here they are: Interior of Southwark and St. Paul's: And a long shot of the Shard with Shakespeare's Globe on the right! Places of quiet amid the hustle and bustle, where you can stop and simply be... Love, James

Dear Juliet Parting is such sweet sorrow, and 'tis sorrowful to be apart... ( Romeo and Juliet , paraphrased) There was an early start for the bus and t hough it seemed all the world was at my feet, some sense of tristesse. That said, best foot forward and find what fate inspires upon the morrow. Victoria Coach Station's actually in Belgravia, and I'd found a fine coffee house on the Tuesday near Chester Square. Nice place to visit, but I don't think I'll ever be able to stay. From there to Brick Lane and the flipside of the coin. It seemed I'd gone straight from Made in Chelsea  to Bangladesh via Rippertown (Whitechapel). I was actually in the East End's vibrant Bangladeshi district. With my quasi-Indian heritage, I'm quite at home with this, although I'm more accustomed to Tamil, Hindi and Urdu than Sylheti. Historically , it seems Sylheti sailors worked as lascar seamen on British ships and settled around the East London docks from the 1850s onwa...