Central London

Sometimes I forget just how close we are to Central London. We lucked out finding this area back in 2007... short commute time to Victoria, yet removed enough from the hustle and bustle to feel like a tranquil place.

Yesterday we decided to meet up with B's brother and children in Hyde Park. There's a great playground we'd heard of - the Princess Diana Memorial one - with a gigantic pirate ship and other play structures inspired by Peter Pan and Neverland. So we met up, the journey in not being too bad (mainline train one stop, Tube in to Bayswater) and spent a few hours in the sun with the kids.

E really enjoyed himself. C did too. Although she was too young to really appreciate all the little nooks and crannies of the playground, she was still able to hug totem poles...

...and toddle around the wigwams.


The tunnel, however, did not yield to her force of will, and she would not stoop to crawl through it, so they were at an impasse for a little while, until she wandered somewhere else.


Meanwhile, E enjoyed chasing (and being chased by) his cousin. S is younger than E by about 18 months but is starting to be able to keep up/engage more and E loves having company at playgrounds. He was none too happy when they had to leave, but all the cool extras at the playground soon cheered him up. There was a pirate telescope at the top of a little hill... actually a kaleidoscope... that he liked quite a bit.

Checking out the treasure chest....

Walking the plank...

Sitting on a chair on the "sensory trail" which was a winding stone path incorporating things like instruments and other neat little features.

Like this wooden xylophone-type thing.

And this deceptively spinny thing.

Also, a chiming trampoline!



C fell asleep in the stroller, so while B and E played and explored, I sat and enjoyed the sun (and wished I'd brought my notebook and pen... I am behind on my word count and really want to get this first draft finished!)

It was a good day. The playground got so full the attendants (yes, attendants, at a playground! Very posh!) had to introduce a 20-out, 20-in crowd control at the gates. Being so close to Mayfair we saw some diverse children - several were out playing in miniature tweed jackets, etc. E fell asleep leaning against me on the train ride back, he was so exhausted.

Bayswater station. Probably I might catch flack from some official for posting this... but you know what? I don't care. I thought the juxtaposition of light and dark was gorgeous. Wouldn't mind waiting for trains in that station.

April

To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay (who, I believe, was a friend of my grandmother's).

We are not up to much here. Our balmy weather disappeared quite sharply and now we have all the bright colors of spring underneath a drab gray sky. I don't mind the rain because it's been so dry lately, and there's a water shortage, but the cold is getting on my nerves. I thought I was all done with wrapping us all up in 900 layers just to go on a walk around the neighborhood.

It's the second week of the Easter holidays here, and E won't have to be back at school until next Tuesday. B had booked today off work and we spent it visiting grandparents in North London and going swimming - well, everyone else went swimming while I perched in the attached cafe area on top of a mound of our stuff, armed with a book.

Speaking of books, I broke 60k on the novel and hope to be done with the rough draft by the time we leave for France in May. Finding it awfully difficult to make time for the writing these days, but I hope to pick up the pace when E's at preschool next week. I can usually get a little bit done in the morning before picking him up at lunchtime, even if C doesn't sleep for long.

We find out whether E has been admitted to our local school (the one his preschool is attached to) next week sometime. I wasn't all that worried about our eligibility but then I heard that the school had 200+ applications for 52 places this year. So it'll be nice to have the whole official letter and all.

Our nights with a certain young miss have been full of ups and downs. Last Friday she only woke once - at 4am - and then slept until 7. Best she's ever done, and of course she doesn't go and repeat it... the nights since have been anywhere from 4-6+ wakings. But I do think we're getting somewhere, slowly. Naturally, any progress we make with the baby has to be somewhat offset by a little boy, standing at the foot of our bed at x'o'clock in the morning and saying "Dadden, my bed has turned into a volcano, you need to come turn it into a bed again." And then showing up fifteen minutes later, after being given a "guardian" stuffed wolf, to say "Wolfy has caught fire in the hot volcano, please save him."

Well, bedtime is rolling around sooner than expected (doesn't it always?) so here is a token picture, because blog posts with just words always seem like such insurmountable walls of text....

I hasten to add that B was the one who dressed her, and the pom-pom boots were definitely his choice as well. But she carries off the look well, I think.