Herne Hill Film Festival

It is once again time for Herne Hill's free film festival and Friday night kicked off with the screening of two silent movies, Charlie Chaplin's Easy Street and Buster Keaton's Sherlock Junior.
It was such a lovely evening which brought together families, young professionals- complete with takeaway pizzas and pints, and an elderly audience including one adorable grey haired couple who held hands throughout.
The film was projected on a screen at the front of Herne Hill station and viewers came in their.. dozens? (I'd like to say hundreds but I'm not sure how many were actually there) with camping chairs and blankets to keep warm.
The evening was accompanied by silent movie pianist Neil Brand playing the original scores on Herne Hill's free public piano which really made the event for me. How his fingers didn't drop off in the cold I do not know!
This was nostalgic, wholesome, community fun at its best and I can't wait for the next screening! I will be making a batch of sweet and salted popcorn to bring with me next time and maybe a flask of chai latte.. it does get a bit chilly once the sun has gone in.

The festival continues with Muriel's Wedding on 4th May at Brockwell Lido- only the first 150 will be allowed in so do get there early.

Click here to follow the Herne Hill Free Film Festival Facebook Page

Guardian Readers

It is becoming increasingly the case that when I hear friends and colleagues referring to something they saw on the Guardian website they do so in an apologetic manner and hushed tones.

I just can't understand why people are embarrassed at being Guardian readers. The website dictates my entire life!

It tells me what plays and exhibitions are worth seeing, the recipes I should cook, the best restaurants to eat in and even who will take me to those restaurants (Guardian Soulmates). 

Reading The Guardian is no longer merely a source of news - it has become an online life coach and I say we should embrace it! 

This video demonstrates my point perfectly:

Guardian Ad Campaign

Tis The Season

Festivities are now in full swing and I  recently enjoyed a lovely trip to Country Living Magazine's Christmas Fair. I came away rather full of various chutneys, cheeses and champagne and purchased a bottle of the King's Ginger- a delicious liqueur that I'm sure will make my annual winter warmer cocktail party even more popular!

Although the various decoration stands were delightful, their offerings were rather limited and my friend Robert was most disappointed that he wasn't able to get the various components for the homemade wreath that he makes each year.

Robert's Wreath

Other fun filled Christmas activities have included visiting Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park for spiced cider aplenty and the annual ENO Community Christmas Concert (of which I am a member). This years concert was a great success. Not only was the audience able to enjoy to our festive repertoire, but a visiting quartet from ENO Opera Works sang a charming rendition of "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year"(click here and skip to 39:07 to hear the recording), AND we were treated to our resident thespian's recital of John Julius Norwich's "12 Days of Christmas Correspondence" which is always such fun!
The ENO Community Choir will be singing again this Thursday 13th December under the Christmas Tree at Trafalgar Square from 6:30 pm. You simply must come and join us all for a mince pie and a cup of mulled wine.

Merry Christmas Readers!

Twelve Days of Christmas

A Correspondence 

John Julius Norwich 

25th December 

My dearest darling 
That partridge, in that lovely little pear tree! What a 
enchanting, romantic,poetic present! Bless you and thank you. 
Your deeply loving Emily 


26th December 

Mr dearest darling Edward 
The two turtle doves arrived this morning and are cooing 
away in the pear tree as I write. I'm so touched and 
grateful. 
With undying love, as always, Emily 


27th December 

My darling Edward 

You do thinks of the most original presents: whoever 
thought of sending anybody three French hens? Do they really 
come all the way from France? It's a pity that we have no 
chicken coops, but I expect we'll find some. Thank you, 
anyway, they're lovely. 
Your loving Emily 


28th December 

Dearest Edward 

What a surprise - four calling birds arrived this morning. 
They are very sweet, even if they do call rather loudly - 
they make telephoning impossible. Bit I expect they'll calm 
down when they get used to their new home. Anyway, I'm very 
grateful - of course I am. 
Love from Emily 

29th December 

Dearest Edward 

The postman has just delivered five most beautiful gold 
rings, one for each finger, and all fitting perfectly. A 
really lovely present -lovelier in a way than birds, which do 
take rather a lot of looking after. The four that arrived 
yesterday are still making a terrible row, and I'm afraid 
none of use got much sleep last night. Mummy says she wants 
us to use the rings to 'wring' their necks - she's only 
joking, I think; though I know what she means. But I love 
the rings. Bless you 
Love, Emily 


30th December 

Dear Edward 

Whatever I expected to find when I opened the front door 
this morning, it certainly wasn't six socking great geese 
laying eggs all over the doorstep. Frankly, I rather hoped 
you had stopped sending me birds - we have no room for them 
and they have already ruined the croquet lawn. I know you 
meant well, but - let's call a halt, shall we? 
Love, Emily 


31st December 

Edward 

I thought I said no more birds; but this morning I woke up 
to find no less than seven swans all trying to get into our 
tiny goldfish pond. I'd rather not thinks what happened to 
the goldfish. The whole house seems to be full of birds - to 
say nothing of what they leave behind them. Please, please 
STOP 
Your Emily 


1st January 

Frankly, I think I prefer the birds. What am I to do with 
eight milkmaids - AND their cows? Is this some kind of a 
joke? If so, I'm afraid I don't find it very amusing. 
Emily 


2nd January 

Look here Edward, this has gone far enough. You say you're 
sending me nine ladies dancing; all I can say is that judging 
from the way they dance, they're certainly not ladies. The 
village just isn't accustomed to seeing a regiment of 
shameless hussies with nothing on but their lipstick 
cavorting round the green - and it's Mummy and I who get 
blamed. If you value our friendship - which I do less and 
less - kindly stop this ridiculous behaviour at once. 
Emily 


3rd January 

As I write this letter, ten disgusting old men are 
prancing abour all over what used to be the garden -before 
the geese and the swans and the cows got at it; and several 
of them, I notice, are taking inexcusable liberties with the 
milkmaids. Meanwhile the neighbours are trying to have us 
evicted. I shall never speak to you again. 
Emily 


4th January 

This is the last straw. You know I detest bagpipes. The 
place has now become something between a menagerie and a 
madhouse and a man from the Council has just declared it 
unfit for habitation. At least Mummy has been spared this 
last outrage; they took her away yesterday afternoon in an 
ambulance. I hope you're satisfied. 


5th January 

Sir 
Our client, Miss Emily Wilbraham, instructs me to inform 
you that with the arrival on her premises a half-past seven 
this morning of the entire percussion section of the 
Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra and several of their friends 
she has no course left open to her but to seek an injunction 
to prevent your importuning her further. I am making 
arrangements for the return of much assorted livestock. 
I am, Sir, Yours faithfully, 
G.CREEP 
Solicitor-at-law 

Faux pas

I have been thinking a lot recently about peoples constant quest for the artificial.
Woman (and men?) who wear fake nails, false eyelashes, fake tan, hair extensions, breast implants and veneers etc.
People who have a photograph of wood, or 'laminate' for its official name, on their floor.
Artificial flowers, pre-faded jeans, vintage 'style' furniture.. My list could go on (it already has enough).

When did faking it become acceptable? Desirable, even?
On a recent shopping trip, I became stuck in a lift with a very well dressed and respectable looking lady. It was my worse nightmare. Not just the small,enclosed, claustrophobic space, but because of the aforementioned woman's scent!
It was over powering. It invaded my nostrils and I could taste the harsh chemical artificial 'floral' stench for hours after. I felt like directing her to the nearest 'Simple' counter in boots and telling her take a shower before she caused anyone else a migraine. Perhaps she was hoping to stand close enough to a man so he would pass out and she could kidnap him and claim him as her own. 

I value authenticity in my life. When one scratches the surface, or pulls an eyelash, nothing flakes away. My jeans are faded because they are my favourite pair and I want to get as much wear out of them as possible. 
And I smell like a clean person, not nitrous oxide.

Commuting Crises

Unfortunately, I have not yet reached a level of affluence where I can be chauffeur driven to work each day and like so many other London dwellers I am forced to use buses and tubes- cautiously pressing the cushioned seat before committing to sitting in case previous passengers have had an accident (I have friends who have made the mistake of sitting without testing first and lived to regret it)
This mornings post is brought to you from the Number 2 bus which has been stuck in traffic for the last 50 minutes. Of course, the driver hasn't bothered telling anyone why. Twitter informs me that there is a broken down bus AND a 'Police Incident' on the tube.
The musical entertainment of my morning is being brought to me by the vacant looking girl to my left. How kind of her to share her musical tastes with the whole bus. I love nothing more than listening to the nasal wails of Rihanna or one of her contemporaries on full volume at this hour.
I really should invest in the Pashley Princess Sovereign- which looks terribly chic and would make visiting farmers markets at the weekend much more convenient.. And I wouldn't have to endure the masses during my morning commute.
There is the possibility of being knocked off on the reckless roads of London but I feel this is a risk I am going to have to take.

What the Dickens?

Here's a little fact for you: did you know, that Charles Dickens left his wife for an 18 year old actress? The swine!

This was one of many facts I discovered yesterday on the Charles Dickens Tour of Highgate Cemetery. 

I have been on a general tour here before that covered the history of the cemeteries, and looked at the graves of famous people from history or their families (such as the Rossetti's, Faraday etc.) And although I'm all for a bit of celebrity spotting, it does strike me as rather tasteless or possibly disrespectful to traipse across peoples graves and photograph them. Of course, this didn't stop me and I have been quite snap happy on both visits to the cemetery. 

It does make you wonder at what point after a high profile death does it become acceptable to partake in this kind of behaviour. Would it have been OK to take a shot of Jeremy Beadle's grave? I didn't think so. However, I imagine that Mr. Beadle wouldn't have minded as his grave is really quite elaborate. 

After the tour, Ellie and I decided to enjoy a little tipple in The Flask public house- where Dickens himself used to drink. I kept trying to remind myself of the history of the building to prolong the atmosphere of the day but the cab sav had set in by this point and conversation again focused on Dickens and his 18 year old floozy. 

I cannot recommend a tour of Highgate Cemetery followed by a trip to The Flask more highly. 

Tickets £7 

More info here: http://www.highgate-cemetery.org

Design Decorum

Just enjoyed a wonderful morning at Decorex.
I think Corita Rose was my favorite stand, the fabrics and furniture are such fun. I could definitely see a place for The Amor Sofa in my bedroom.

I unfortunately left feeling quite flustered, as the man on the Fake Plants stand was really rather rude to me. All I said was that his "plants" were the equivalent of sticking an AGA door on a microwave.... and had no right being here. He reminded me of a Brian Blessed style character so I'm sure you can imagine how distressing it was when he boomed at me in front of everyone.
I must write a letter of complaint.
Why not buy real flowers? It really doesn't have to cost much, Marigolds are affordable and in season -and a single flower in an up-cycled root beer bottle can look terribly sweet.