adore amy

baby steps (and a few steps back)…

As things continue to pick up a bit and as much as traipsing up to Moorgate for a wander through the huge Finsbury Pavement shop will have done me lots of good, my favourite news of the week has been the long-awaited reopening of my neighbourhood M&S on Fenchurch Street for a hygienically wrapped croissant, some Greek yoghurt and a razz through the many yellow-stickered bargains, likely plentiful because not everyone has noticed the store has reopened yet. What little space there was in my freezer is no longer space.

My hairdresser was also on form last weekend and kitted out appropriately with plastic visors and sanitiser; thankfully tea was still available albeit in disposable cups and all involved were extremely pleasant and diplomatic about the haystack presented to them – I suspect they’ll have seen a lot worse by the time I write this but I was happy just to be able to get a comb through it without wincing, even if having somebody else wash my hair hadn’t been the most exciting thing I’d done for over three months (it was). It didn’t pour with rain on the walk back this time which was definitely a plus, and nobody destroyed my £35 blowdry the following morning either which was another one. Happy days.

I have visited Borough Market (and come away poorer in cash but rich in fresh baby squid and fancy tomatoes, amongst other things) and seen an Artistically Significant Wall, Leadenhall Market is starting to reopen and the City is gradually starting to look a bit more like I remember it for the month or so I was here before everything shut and everybody bogged off home.

Unfortunately the relaxing stroll around Sky Garden I had been looking forward to was something of a disappointment after I managed to choose the only grey, overcast and thoroughly miserable day to visit, and with sitting in the seats now prohibited too I didn’t hang about after the picture-taking and went home for a pot of tea instead. It is only a two minute walk, in all fairness, and the weather is nobody’s fault – luckily the next set of free stuff on the itinerary thanks to an email from Tate announcing their reopening on the 27th is indoors. All visits are timed and must be prebooked, even for members. I have prebooked.

And speaking of prebooked – smoothly done, I know – I’ll reiterate that since I’m taking fewer bookings and spacing them further apart, if you have a pretty narrow time in mind it’s currently useful to have as much warning as possible; I do mean hours, not days (or God forbid, weeks). This is purely because of the extra cleaning logistics (and not because I’ve suddenly decided to take two hours getting ready for bookings, or whatever) and applies to everybody who hasn’t been before; if it isn’t convenient to call, text and we can get to the confirming later. There is no situation at the moment when I will be available ‘in the next half hour’, and rarely is there ever. At least an hours’ notice, please.

Song Of The Week maybe ought to be a little celebratory, but given the state of the news it would feel at least a little disingenuous. Plus I always liked the song, and especially the part in the video where the little man is made of peanut butter.

More soon! I have a peanut butter and banana crumpet planned, and it won’t eat itself.

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