Not Just Cricket

Here I am watching Boy 1 play cricket in the glorious English sunshine.

I thought the match would be abandoned when the downpour really got going, but no, these people are hardcore, they just waited till it subsided to a brisk drizzle and back onto the pitch they went.

  But it's not all cricket.  The other day I hopped up to London, to my old stamping ground of High Street Kensington. You can see the spire of St Mary Abbotts; the school of the same name is next door and is very sought after at the moment, as Mr Cameron's daughter goes there.

 Below is what used to be the department store Barkers.  My mother remembers going there as a little girl.  A couple of years ago it turned into a huge Whole Foods.  Personally I miss the cosmetics counters and the abundance of stuff you didn't want to buy.  Oh, and the grumpy shop assistants.

I like all the plane trees in Kensington, they give much needed greenery.

I felt a bit nostalgic being in Kensington again, as this is where I  lived with Boys 1 and 2 when they were babies and toddlers; and oh the memories!  The time Boy 2 let his scooter slide into the Round Pond and our dismay as it disappeared under the murky waters ( I managed to hook it out with a long pole I begged off  a radio controlled motorboat enthusiast); Boy 1 stomping along the street trying every car door to see if they would open (and his shock when one did); riding on the top deck of the bus with two very wriggly, over-excited boys, who did not understand why they should not scooter inside the bus...  I do think London is a good place for babies, as you can walk for miles with them in their pushchairs, I could never get my head around country lanes with no footpaths..

Now, brace yourselves: here is what I look like in Real Life. (I was actually buying this for the boys as they needed to Dress Mad for Charity at school, it had been almost a week since the last charity dress up).

 And here is my lovely ex-neighbour, S.  Isn't she a doll?  She is very definitely Good In Hats.  And look at that blondey blonde hair.  S lives in the flat below our old flat. It is amazing she is still talking to us after the noise that must have been coming from our flat day-in/day-out - the crying, screaming, banging, crashing - and that was just me trying to make a cup of tea, let alone the row the Boys created.  S is American and really funny - her anecdote about seeing Hugh Grant is an All Time Classic:
Her hubs spots our Hugh sitting at a table outside a cafe in South Kensington.
He tells S to walk by, discreetly, to check him out; "But honey, be discreet ok, be cool!" 
"Of course I'll be cool!" huffs S.
 S arrives at Hugh's table.
 Suddenly alien forces overwhelm her.
She stops slapbang in front of Hugh.
 And shrieks at the top of her voice:
 "HUUUUUUGH GRAAAAAANT!"

S and I gossipped for England and the US combined, and pottered round the shops.  We had a good rummage round Accessorize, S was buying presents for her son's teachers. I liked these pretty rings - my precious..

I finished my little Kensington jaunt with a look round TK Maxx but was quite frankly overwhelmed by the sheer volume of  stuff...

Faced with a sea of sartorial flotsam, I suddenly found the idea of watching cricket much more relaxing....