Reflections
Hands up who has said "Where has this year gone?" Yep - I've done it too. We can't help it. No matter what kind of year we've had, it's almost impossible not to reflect this time of year
Hands up who has said "Where has this year gone?" Yep - I've done it too. We can't help it. No matter what kind of year we've had, it's almost impossible not to reflect this time of year
For the past couple of years at work, we've done a Reverse Advent; bringing in long-life food items for Southend Food Bank in December, donating to people who are struggling at Christmas.
Last week, the great and the good of Southend's arts scene descended upon Twenty One, the lovely art gallery based on Pier Approach, a cockle's throw from the Three Shells, nascently poised in the echoes of the Never Never Land of our 1980s past.
After all the excitement of Leigh Lights on Friday (well done to Leigh Town Council and all the lovely businesses that opened late and made everything so festive!) I am feeling distinctly Christmassy.
Southend poet Sadie Davidson has had her first poetry collection, Tales from the Estates, published by Whisky & Beards.
I read with sadness this week that the Lynn Tait Gallery gift shop in Old Leigh High Street is to close, around 30 years after it was first opened. Its founder, Lynn, passed away in the summer of 2017 and the family have decided to close the shop this Christmas.
I was in the Broadway on Saturday and I came out of the Co-op with my Halloween balloons and my oat milk and saw that people were kind of milling around, holding shopping bags, staring at the road. Two people were having a spectacular argument in their cars, over a parking space. I mean, they were seriously effing and jeffing...
I've always been compelled by mad weather. I remember going to watch 101 Dalmations at Southend Odeon one Christmas as a kid, and when we came out, it had snowed massively while we were inside.
They're back! Have you seen them? Have you heard them? Our winter tenants, the Brent Geese, have made their way over from boggy Arctic tundra and they've settled yet again on our mudflats, on our estuary shores.
Last night I saw the opening night of The Wipers Times and it is one of the most enjoyable, poignant and funny plays I've seen in a long time.
It was what can only be described as a 'Rainbow' weekend for our fave Ray Morgan .....
Opaques. This is my signifier for the turn of the season: the return of opaques. I'm clearly a bore about this, because my Facebook 'On This Day' shows a roll-call of early-September status posts about getting my black opaque tights out of retirement for Autumn. But it does feel like change, doesn't it?
Bank Holiday Monday; the weather was actually good for once, right? No clouds, no rain, no sad faces because we were trapped inside with faces pressed up to the windows thinking of all the fun we *could* be having.
I don't know about you, but my Facebook and Instagram feeds are full of other people's holidays at the moment.
As some of you regular readers may know, I moved into a new home in March, and it's been a lovely 5 months getting the place sorted.
I've been spending some time at my parents' allotment lately, and I am astounded at how good it is for the soul to be somewhere peaceful, away from the buzz of everyday life; somewhere to truly switch off.
It's a nice segue, given that last week's blog was about not driving, that this week I'm talking... coach journeys! Saviour of the non-driving yet UK trip-loving individual!
Some people find it strange that at almost 33, I've never sat behind the wheel of a car...
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