Tue 1: Birdwatching update: I'm on an afternoon walk up the Olympic Park. I've already been startled by a daffodil and now, blimey, look, it's a kingfisher again! It's in the stream at the exit to the Waterglades, first hugging the water and then soaring high into the air. For a bird I'd never seen a month ago, I appear to be having phenomenal luck. Wed 2: Lockdown ends, tiers restart, non-essential shops reopen and a vaccine is approved. It's the most positive news day in ages. I take advantage of none of it. Thu 3: I'm making a list of cherry trees currently in full blossom so that I can confirm in four months' time whether or not they flower twice or are solely winter bloomers. Fri 4: It's fish and chips tonight, oven-cooked version. Somehow I manage to trap half an oven glove inside the oven when I close the door and fail to notice for ten minutes. Thankfully it only melts slightly on the inside and doesn't set off a conflagration requiring evacuation of the building. Sat 5: If I leave an acorn out on the balcony for the squirrel, the magpie always gets it first. Sun 6: Ooh, another number 25 with a wreath on its front door. I must remember to file that photo away and use it on Christmas Day. (Forgot, dammit)
Mon 7: I took a pile of books back to the library. It took me three attempts to put my mask on because I was holding a lot of books. My glasses steamed up as soon as I went inside. I smeared sanitiser over the covers while I was putting the books down. The staff had no other customers. I couldn't quite make out the instructions on the self-service screen so they had to call me back to the machine to finish the transaction. Handing over my name and number for Test and Trace meant I spent twice as long in the library as I would have done otherwise. I had considered withdrawing more books but my misty specs meant I couldn't read the spines so I decided against. As I went to leave one of the staff asked "Are you not taking any books out?" I left the library feeling sad and inadequate. Tue 8: It's not just 90 year-old Margaret Keenan getting her vaccination this week. My brother's father-in-law is pencilled in for jab one on Friday. Wed 9: Watched a plane take off from City Airport. Struck by the sheer unusualness of the spectacle. Also watched four helicopters weaving east following the line of the Thames. Thu 10: Nobody correctly guessed where I was heading when I described "70 things I saw on a long walk to a busy high street". It was Stoke Newington. To put one reader out of their additional misery, the 55 mosaic hounds appear on a marvellous new portraitwall in the middle of Hackney Downs.
Fri 11: Spotted an actual TV chef in the tattooed flesh. He walked past chatting on his phone, then sat down and took a selfie. He had a posher voice than I was expecting and a far filthier mouth. Sat 12: I have been summoned to my local surgery for vaccination. It's only for flu, and it's three months later than they normally ask me, but it's important to get it done. A lot of other people have been summoned too, but I appreciate that the nurse has time for a proper chat, not just a prick-and-go. Sun 13: I would have been able to walk safely past Stepney Green tube station had not the Tower Hamlets Covid Ambassadors been blocking the pavement while handing out advice and testing kits. Thankfully the Cycle Superhighway was unoccupied. Mon 14: The Tier 2tube map is, by some margin, the second most popular thing I have ever tweeted (behind Boris Johnson's neighbourhood police station and ahead of a skinhead in Romford). Tue 15: I whinged last month that the map of libraries on Greenwich's website displayed ten libraries on one page and two on another. Today the borough's head of digital messaged to say that all twelve now appear simultaneously, and this is a deeply reassuring outcome.
Wed 16: Things that pass through your mind as you fly low over Upper Street: I appear have lost contact with the ground. Uh-oh. I wonder what I tripped on. My body is at an increasingly horizontal angle to the ground. Dammit. I have no control over this aerial manoeuvre whatsoever. I wonder if this is what being in free-fall feels like. I bet this is going to hurt. Those railings are getting closer. I hope I stop short. It could be a very awkward four mile hobble home. At least the pavement looks clean. Adrenalin incoming..... Ouch! Thu 17: Opening Christmas cards is such a lottery, especially this year. Today I discovered that one former colleague is delighted to be a grandmother and another lost her husband in October. Fri 18: Trip hazard update: The extensive grazing on my lower arm thankfully doesn't look too deep and should heal fine once the crust has done its job. The whopping bruise on my upper arm is now an impressive yellow colour, but again could have been much worse. Note to self - try not to do this when in your 70s. Sat 19: My Tier 2 tube map is already out of date. Never mind, my tiered calendar depicting December in London is going to be the fourth most popular thing I've ever tweeted. Sun 20: The Christmas tree under the Cheesegrater is impressive this year. A lone security guard watches over it (and the adjacent bank of escalators) even at weekends.
Mon 21: Birdwatching update: It's a wet and lonely morning in the Olympic Park and I'm down by the river again. I wonder if calling out for a kingfisher might work. I call out. A kingfisher zips out of the reeds and curves downstream. I swear I am not making this up. Tue 22: The Christmas episode of The Good Life may be TV's finest 30 minute comedy masterclass (unless it was last Saturday's Blackadder II - Beer). Wed 23: I'm pleased to report that the cycle lane behind the bus shelter on Ruckholt Road, which for seven months was a cycle lane through the bus shelter, has finally been resurfaced and at last provides a smooth ride. Thu 24: Birdwatching update: Don't forget to keep an eye out for kingfishers, I tell BestMate. That's where I saw one on Monday. One minute later he points out a kingfisher flying fast, straight and at approximately head height, like a rocket above the river. That's now six times in the last 40 days I've seen one - probably the same one. I think I have a new neighbour. If you're interested in what appears to be a damned good opportunity to spot a kingfisher, I've made a map showing the six sites. Head to the east bank of the Lea in the northern half of the park for your best chance (but don't get your hopes too high). Fri 25: 7 things I don't normally get the chance to do at Christmas: wake unprompted, watch the International Space Station fly overhead, walk to the West End, cook my own sprouts, pop a cork, eat half the Christmas pudding, watch six TV shows of my choice. 7 things I missed this Christmas: being with family, hot sausage rolls, refusing to play Monopoly, a roomful of presents, roast potatoes, someone to pull a cracker with, laughter.
Sat 26: The Inner London Ramblers have taken on the mantle of Guardians of the Capital Ring, hurrah, and their Rangers have spent 2020 revising the walk guides. Downloadable pdfs are now available on the ILR website along with up-to-date guidance on diversions and blockages. This is excellent news if you were thinking of walking (or rewalking) it, not least because they've used OpenStreetMap so the directions are really clear. Sun 27: I've lost count of the number of times I've watched the Sound of Music - a film released the week before I was born. My first screening was at the Watford Odeon, and I remember being very relieved when they inserted an intermission after the wedding. This time I nipped to the kitchen for a cuppa during Edelweiss. Mon 28: Surprised to see that the ExCel centre at the Royal Docks looks like an exhibition hall again, complete with 'Welcome' branding in global languages. I guess we don't need that Nightingale Hospital any more (or perhaps there never were sufficient staff to operate it). Tue 29: Parked in a row outside a small block of flats in Hackney - nine delivery mopeds (four with L plates). For many inner London residents, the new career choice. Wed 30: The increasing price of the Radio Times over the last decade - 2011 £1.20, 2012 £1.40, 2013 £1.60, 2014 £1.80, 2015 £2.00, 2016 £2.30, 2017 £2.50, 2018 £2.80, 2019 £3.00, 2020 £3.20, 2021 £3.50 (average annual price rise = 11.3%) Thu 31: I haven't stayed in on New Year's Eve for ages, but this year no distant firework-watching viewpoint was on offer. Instead a spider wandered in from the hallway and lurked on the wall beside me and we saw in 2021 together. Cheers, and good riddance.
