There were these lamps outside our window, behind the blinds. We could never work out how to turn the heating off either, but it's a new environment, these are teething problems. There are worse problems to have in February, especially when you're between homes.
My Auntie Megan used to teach on the Isle of Dogs, back when they were putting in the light railway. I remember when it was all fields. Fields and The Sweeney. Some of it still is fields of course.
This sheep's probably older than some of the buildings behind it.
Thirty years later, the land beneath all this new kit shows definite signs of not having behaved itself. Bricks have shifted. Don't be fooled by the scale of the enterprise; like Venice, there's not a right angle in the place. No bill stickers either. Imagine what it will look like in five hundred years.
We had a good time, I seem to remember. Every evening we stopped off for beer and sweets. There was a pool.
Maybe I wasn't between homes. Maybe I'm thinking of the London Dungeon, which was relocating to County Hall, while its permanent staff spent February being trained on the new scripts.
I'm not permanent staff.
We never did see the cat.
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