Below the poverty line....

 I watched a BBC programme about the 3.5 million children who live below the poverty line in the UK

This dear child, who lives in the tower block pictured (in Glasgow) was well spoken , well educated, well aware of the dangers posed by the damp and mold present in their flat.
In this flat, yes, the mold was bad, yes, it was less than great living space, but the sheets on the beds were clean, there was a washing machine, a fridge, a microwave, a cooker, water and electricity and gas.
The parents didn't work, were on benefits and the little girl spoke of being cold when the money for the gas meter had run out,and bored when the money for the TV had run out (£1 for 6 hours, I didn't know you could even do this!)
There wasn't much food in the house, but they have a school dinner every day. There was a park for them to play in, not a great park, but grass and trees and a few swings and so on.
 By the end of the programme, they had been rehoused in better accommodation.
In a country of 64 million, I find it hard to see 3.5 million as a bad statistic. The poms think it is horrendous. Sure it is indeed.

 By what standard? My heart breaks for these kids, as in a first world country there should be no poverty, but it  is hard for me to see this as true poverty.

The way this child lives is luxury compared to the kids in Cape Town.
But, it is abject poverty here in the UK, and unacceptable, and things are being done about it.
This child, no matter how poor her family may be , has access to medical care, housing, schooling, counselling...I love this. I love that an hour long programme was made about it, speaking only to the children, and their perception of being 'poor'
And what thoughts they had! How accepting they were of their  situation, how understanding of how hard it is  for their parents to get jobs, how much they did their bit to help, bless them! One little lad said " In this area, 1 in 5 is unemployed and it is hard for my daddy, when he did a google search, only 2 jobs came up" This kid was about 8 years old.
Perhaps when they grow up to be teenagers , it will be a different story altogether.
 The way I see it, everyone is doing their best.
If nothing else, surely it is a good start. I pay my taxes gladly here.

Plant by numbers

 Quite something...a Van Gogh brought to life!
This is on display at Trafalgar Square

http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/van-gogh-painting-brought-to-life-as-living-wall

We were on a Family Outing, you can see the family in the photo (I added them for scale!)
Why they are all looking the other way is a mystery to me.
It was a lovely summer's day. I still don't quite understand the summer...it comes and goes...., but this day was glorious. When the weather is  good, London is  truly beautiful.

Who moved my Cheese?

As you know, from my earliest shopping expeditions here, the variety of goods available is mind boggling.
Not so for cottage cheese.

There is Natural. (naturally)
Chive & Onion    (boringly)
Pineapple             (Disgustingly)

THAT'S IT!

I brought this to the attention of the dairy merchandiser in Sainsburys who was so offended that I had criticized her department that she made me wait ages while she looked it all up on the computer to prove to me that that was it for the whole country.
She did find one with strawberries, but I guess that was a special for Wimbledon (yuk)

Waitrose has the same 3 types. I really don't understand the pineapple thing.
Managed to restrain myself from saying  "Well in South Africa......"

I have bought the natural, and will make my own flavours.

Stupid.

Evil Cat

Poor Hoppy...Dave The Cat From Next Door has evil intentions methinks....

Saffas

I don't know what it is, maybe this goes on all the time and I haven't noticed yet, but Lordy! do they not take the piss out of the Saffas!
The radio DJ's can do a mean imitation of a Saffa accent.
Up until now I have always thought the Saffa accent was quite inoffensive.
When you hear someone take the piss, it makes the accent sound AWFUL.
I am trying to round my vowels .
This is quite hard to explain. In South Africa, obviously, I didn't even hear the accent .Here, it smacks you in the face. And the Saffas are so LOUD.
Initially, I was somewhat offended, now, I cringe when I hear the DJ's imitate us.
Not too sure what that says about me.

apologies

Amazing isn't it?

London Underground

As you know, we Hardened Londoners do not speak to each other on the tube.
There is a competition/comment running at the minute (by the Metro, our free newspaper we get on the tube), asking "What would make you talk to a fellow commuter?"
This is very interesting.

I did think long and hard, and this is all I could come up with.

If there was a disaster , like Princess Diana's death, or 9/11
If the train crashed
If somebody had a heart attack/baby/fit in the carriage.
If somebody vomited/screamed/fought/had a knife (maybe) Usually , in this case, people just film it on their phones and then post it on you tube.
If somebody lit a cigarette.
Last week , a tube took off and the doors didn't close. I should imagine people spoke to each other then, but probably just the tourists.


That's about it, actually.

When I travel away from London, and people talk to me (like in Dublin, on the Luas) it makes me very nervous.
Sad, but true.