Despite being an abnormally crap photographer, I’ve just had a second picture published on a commercial site. No financial remuneration or anything but it’s quite flattering nonetheless. This one was a picture of a plaque on the Masonic Temple in Philadelphia; a subject so obscure that it was bound to get spotted I suppose. The only problem is that I’m not sure I really want to promote this place. I mean, just look at their website. For a secret society they’re pretty bloody blatant. Not only are they running a children-chipping campaign, but they even have an on-line database of Masons-friendly businesses for “Masons helping Masons”! They just don’t care! I wonder if it has a section for “friendly” police officers, or judges ?
So mote it be.
Yesterday turned out not only to be surprisingly pleasant but also helped rekindle my faith in human nature. Not bad considering the only concrete plan we had was a trip up the Old Kent Road to PC-World – the next step in my plan to help Matsui 120MR owners. While we were in the badlands of Southwark we decided to visit Burgess Park, something I’ve been craving since reading an article in Smoke. It was an Oasis! Imagine the scene: a huge, hilly, green park in the middle of urban mess. In the middle is a sprawling lake surrounded by well-equipped anglers sharing joints and cans of lager with Southwark council employees, right under “no fishing” signs. In the middle of the lake is a fountain and several small islands housing nesting families of Mallards, Coots and Moorhens. Michele was in seventh heaven with her binoculars cocked. We spent some time observing two tiny baby moorhens swimming through the sludge with their mother, and a baby coot hunting through the reeds for some sustenance.
Some time ago I blogged about a local restaurant that I felt had ripped us off. Ever since then, walking past the place invoked feelings of sadness; partly because of the feeling of organised, petty, dishonesty, and partly because I really liked the food there. I used to fantasise about the owner seeing me walk past and stopping me to tell me they’d made a mistake – pathetic I know.
Well, after our sojourn in Southwark and a drink in the Rosie, we decided to go back there for dinner, and Suzanne accompanied us. Half way through the meal the owner approached the table and apologised for what happened in our last visit! Wow, she remembered! No only that, but she produced a ten pound note, stapled to my original receipt that has been kept by the till ever since! Double wow! It was a mistake and they’re that honest! So go to The Thailand in New Cross! The food is superb and the owner is lovely.
