rather too much spirit

Looking at photos taken in mid-70s London during the Winter of Discontent (the photo of men warming themselves on the street with a meagre fire fed with cardboard boxes, stood out) I overheard one of the Hairy Bikers say: ‘God, it looks Victorian!’ We were at Tate Britain’s photography exhibition: ANOTHER LONDON, International Photographers Capture City Life 1930-1980. The images ranged from foggy romanticism or destitution to funny and touching; the usual class consciousness and displays of British spirit. One photo showed a young married woman, on her knees, scrubbing her doorstep. Who does that now and who thinks their neighbourhood status is connected to their doorstep?

In the spirit of Victorian-looking poverty pictures, I offer this, taken a few years ago from a bus as it made its way through Peckham.

Star lunch

Photo taken today outside a Peckham café. As it happens I know the man who ate everything on the plate, bar the crusts. He works in pest control and once came to my house to eradicate it of mice. I, too, ate lunch at this café: £2:50 for bubble and squeak, fried egg and tomatoes. Delicious, filling, convivial and all this for £2:50!

Moving up a register. On the radio this morning it was said that, following on from his Olympics/Grand Slam success, Andy Murray stood to earn One Hundred Million Pounds. Achieving millionaire status… it’s so yesterday.

War: what is it good for?

I came across this painting on a wall in Peckham. The image is powerful and the words puzzling. If war’s not a man’s thing, it certainly ain’t a woman’s thing. Does it mean that war is a technology thing… played out with and by  machinery? For sure, the soldier is lumbered with weaponry and gadgets. Or does it mean that being a man does not equate with being a warrior? Whatever. It’s a statement to stop you and start a debate, even if only with yourself.

Do I look pretty in this?

Dogs feature large at the annual Peckham Rye Fete. Held this weekend, the fete, as usual, attracted lots of people who ambled and did things like eat cakes, buy ephemera, watch Punch & Judy, chat and generally gather on the common land as if we were at a medieval fair. I bought books, garden plants (six for a fiver), and a pot of ‘sunrise’ marmalade, which is a layer of lemon over orange. Last time I came across the word sunrise attached to something I could consume, it was a tequila sunrise but that was a long time ago. The greatest attraction of the fete, though, is always the dog show. This boxer was a contender in the fancy dress competition. He didn’t win, but he was a contender.