weequizzie

by Mount Kimbie.

“Sometimes she went for walks but she didn’t like dogs or cats or birds or flowers or nature or nice young men. She looked at nice young men as if she could smell their stupidity.”

Good Country People, Flannery O’Connor

We were running late, not late late but late so I assumed we’d be shuffled off to our table, menus thrust in hand whilst the plight to turn the table began. It didn’t happen.

We arrived (10 minutes late) for Sunday lunch, were greeted and asked if we’d like to have a drink at the bar before being seated. YES! Yes, please. We hopped on bar stools sank a Bloody Mary and an Earl Grey Martini, flicked through the Sunday papers and eventually took our seats. What a novelty. I’m so used to being shunted around in restaurants that if anyone gives me time to get my shit together and puts me at ease then you’ve already won me over.

We had an early lunch booking (12.30) and the restaurant and bar area were steadily filling up. So much to choose from on the menu and if the look of the plates being delivered to other tables and the devourers rosy-faced contentment is anything to go by then it was all good. We finally decided on:

Starter: Salt and pepper squid
Properly salty with a simple leaf salad and olive oil dressing. I am the queen of all squid related food and this was truly good. Better than Gordan Ramsay at Maze good. I wanted to order it again for my desert.

Main course: Roast lamb, spiced aubergine, tzatziki and jus for 2
Perfectly cooked, we carved and we ate. Oh, how we ate. Sides included roast potatoes, an enormous Yorkshire pudding and seasonal greens. Everything was fresh, well cooked and seasoned. SEASONED! I wasn’t super impressed with the roast potatoes but then we’re all very special when it comes to our roast potato expectations.

Desert: Pavlova with berries and another Earl Grey Martini
Ziiiing. Perfect ending to the meal.

The service is relaxed, knowledgable, friendly and always present. The tables and their diners are given space to talk, eat and flail their arms around if they want. And the cocktails. Oh, sweet mercy, the cocktails. Just go. We’re going again. And again. And again.

The Crooked Well, Camberwell (I love SE London 4eva.)

Everyone is doing the half moon/reverse French. They have been for a while. So, here I am, late to the nail party offering up my small fingernails. As a tiny fingered woman I’ve discovered it’s nigh on impossible to get the right ratio of moon to ‘cure but I tried my best. All you need is some polish and some ring reinforcements, or circular stickers. First two attempts haven’t been too bad, so it can only get better. Next up, pink and red. Clashtastic.

Yes, these pictures were taken in bed. I’ve been ill. SADFACE.

Going to see Yayoi Kusama at the Tate Modern. I think I might explode.

I went home. That’s what people say, isn’t it? I went home.

We spent last weekend back in Northern Ireland, the homeland, only it didn’t feel like home. It felt like a memory of a place I used to know but even when I was there, in it, growing up, it didn’t feel like home. It felt like it belonged to someone else.

Disconnected. I forgot the language. I hid under the bed.

I’m making my own home. A home that’s almost full. Almost overflowing. A place where I might ask you to take your shoes off but probably won’t. A place where you’ll know parts of me and I won’t mind. I won’t mind one bit.

Where feels like home to you?

Alone with Everybody
Charles Bukowski

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there’s no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

Going to see New York at the Barbican.

“I’m not interested in celebrities with their free dresses. I’m interested in clothes.”

LETTERS TO DEAD PEOPLE

This sentiment is one I can truly get behind. Now I just need to get this sucker framed and on the wall.