Sunday, November 16/2008

Go out to the newsagent's for the Sunday Times and find that there is a fine rain, one step beyond mist. So we take our umbrellas with us to Finchley Road tube station and off to Jean's. STill mild. THere are leaves all over the pavements, mostly from the plane trees. They have leaves that look like giant maple leaves, the largest of them about a foot across.

There's a bird bath in the back garden at Jean's and J watches the birds enjoying a bath. Jean says that she spotted a dead rat there earlier. She called the council who say that they charge to remove a corpse from private property, though not from the street - from whence it probably came. Their advice is to wrap it in paper and put it in the rubbish bin. She does, and says the bin is due to be emptied tomorrow, but if it happens again she'll put it in the gutter and then call. They say that in London one is never more than ten feet from a rat, though it seems (and one hopes is) unlikely. We have seen them by - and in - the bins in Belsize Park though.

Shanthi joins us after a weekend visiting relatives in Surrey. Lots of lively chat. We discuss David Hare's Gethsemane. Predictably given a good review in the Guardian and a poor one in this morning's Times. The characters are, of course, scarcely disguised at all, and one recognises Tony Blair, Lord Levy, and - by dilemma at least - Tessa Jowell. Now, apparently, rumour has it that Blair isn't putting much energy into doing his new job; he's too caught up in the world of well paid speaking engagements. Shanthi has friends in the court system who say that the current economic situation has seen a surge of City wives from the world of finance filing for divorce beofre there is an end to the huge payout bonuses as companies fail and banks lay off executives. Meanwhile Shanthi's concern is for families losing their homes in record numbers as the banks repossess.

Fragrant rice and curries for dinner. Little pavlovas with fresh strawberries for dessert. A lovely treat. Jean and Shanthi reminisce about Singapore, arranged marriages, family. Jean's grandfather was born in London in the 1820's and lived as a bookseller in the London in which Dickens was writing. Quite amazing.