Fri 1: After far too many years of not having a decent office chair to sit on at home, because my landlord's definition of 'furnished' doesn't include one, I have successfully assembled an IKEA swiveller and my posture thanks me for it. Sat 2: I got to be the sole foot passenger on the Woolwich Ferry, but had to endure the Health and Safety announcement played on repeat for a full ten minutes so it wasn't all good. Sun 3: I'm disappointed that my new cassette player, manufactured 2018, plays tapes less successfully than my ageing cassette player, manufactured 1988. Mon 4: The legendary Golf Sale, whose premises in Maddox Street were much pointed to on Oxford Street sandwich boards, has moved to a drab backstreet in Marylebone where it still sells bags and clubs and jackets, and its former premises are now empty with a lot of scaffolding out front.
Tue 5: The Heron, in Paddington, is an extraordinary pub which looks estate-bland from the outside but inside runs amok with royal memorabilia, including Charles and Di wedding plates across the ceiling, plus a special corner devoted to the twirly-moustached Handlebar Club. Wed 6: One of BestMate's neighbours received a misdirected letter from the Middle East last year, which has been sitting on his communal stairs ever since. The correct recipient lives only five minutes round the corner so I thought I'd be communally minded and drop it in on my way home, and my what a grim cul-de-sac that was. Thu 7: First bluebell of the year spotted, ridiculously early, in a churchyard in Bracknell. Fri 8: My supermarket receipt confirms the view that, in the current circumstances, you can never have enough cans of beans or tins of tuna. Sat 9: The best thing to do when your birthday is on a Saturday is to go back to the village where you were born and walk six miles round it, past mud and geese and daffodils and blossom, and then go out in the evening for salmon and cocktails overlooking the Olympic Stadium. Sun 10: I hadn't realised there used to be a Treborfactory in Forest Gate until I accidentally walked past it and spotted 'Trebor Quality Sweets' emblazoned across the front of what's now an apartment block.
Mon 11: Imagine the disappointment when you get to the top of a hill and someone is sitting on the trig point, and looks like staying a while, so you feel super awkward about being there and decide to go back down the hill and return later. Tue 12: I have become so conditioned to renewing my library books at the machine that when it broke down I wasn't sure how to go up to the desk and ask a real librarian, and I feel bad that I will ultimately make him redundant. Wed 13: My optician gave me ten free super-watery contact lenses, giving me the hard sell about how they'd definitely be more comfortable, but they proved not to be. Thanks for the extra free week anyway. Thu 14: Succumbed and ate another pack of no-longer-manufactured Cinnamon Tic Tacs. I probably ought to finish off last year's Creme Eggs first. Fri 15: The new mini zebra crossing at Bus Stop M now has two white stripes painted on it, so has become a proper mini zebra crossing.
Sat 16: English Heritage keep sending me stuff in the post, including an (unvalidated) membership card, a 2019 Members Handbook, their latest magazine and a card suggesting things to do in the Easter Holidays, despite the fact that my one year's membership expired several weeks ago. Sun 17: I can't get over how easy it is to walk into the heart of BBC Television Centre these days and walk around the Ariel fountain, but also how dead the place is now it's a housing development. Mon 18: Vodafone, who took over Demon Internet in 2012, have written to say they're shutting down the service imminently and listing my "impacted service references", and would I perhaps like to sign up to their broadband services instead, no pressure. Tue 19: Off to Norfolk because my Dad's bought a new computer with Windows 10, rather than Windows Obsolete, and because over-sensitive security settings are easier tweaked in person than over the phone. Also the village pub landlord is moving on, and it's important to have a final pie. Wed 20: My departure from Norfolk was thankfully not delayed by the Calor Gas man turning up and draping his big hose across the driveway. Thu 21: The long train journey to and from Birmingham proved the ideal opportunity to finish off Eric Idle's autobiography, which isn't all Monty Python, and proved a surprisingly good read.
Fri 22: The Greenway between Stratford High Street and the Olympic Park has now been closed for nine years and ten months, apart from a brief respite during the Olympics, but a sign from contractors working on behalf of Thames Water says it might actually be open next month. I'll believe that when it happens. Sat 23: My thanks to whoever it was on Twitter who pointed out the website Radio Garden, featuring online radio stations from around the world, because I've spent the evening twirling the globe and listening to Hott FM in Barbados, Quay FM in Alderney and 8CCC 102.1FM in Alice Springs. Sun 24: The central pathway across City Island is now open, as the Leamouth peninsula inexorably morphs into 90% flats. Mon 25: Geoff and Vicki of @allthestations have just started their quest to visit all 198 stations in the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland, and have been damned lucky with the weather. They'll be dropping a new video every day at 7pm over on YouTube, first video here, should you ultimately have several hours to spare. Tue 26: Meridian Water station looks close to completion, which is just as well given that Angel Road station (on the other side of the North Circular) closes in a couple of months.
Wed 27: Took BestMate for a walk along London Loopsection 20, to show him Chigwell and Hainault, but one footpath was so muddy we had to divert round a large paddock which meant we just missed the every-90-minutes bus at the end, and I think he's still speaking to me. Thu 28: Had today's planned day trip gone ahead I'd have needed to be up at stupid o'clock, and the weather wasn't very good anyway, so I think the postponement's a win. Fri 29: London's finest warning notice, at the Horniman Museum in Forest Hill, no longer says"Please do not touch the walrus". It says"Please do not touch the walrus or sit on the iceberg". Sat 30: I don't know what's up with the camera on my phone, but over the last few months it's been taking increasingly many photos of my legs and trousers rather than what I thought I was pointing at. Sun 31: My brother sent me a congratulatory message this morning because it's 20 years since I left my first career, and I sent him a congratulatory message back because as of today he has no more teenage offspring.
If you preferred this morning's video format, with backingmusic, click here.
