Woodbridge, Tide MIll
Early start today, wandering through rush hour London and walking over Blackfriars bridge with all the other commuters to take the tube. Had an interesting chat with the platform attendant, all about how he worked, if it was a good job and how he liked his new uniform. He didn't, the old one was cosy on these windy platforms, the new one is thin and he gets really cold.
Took the circle line to Liverpool street and then off to Ipswich, Woodbridge and Keith's sister Kathryn and brother-in-law Julian - and Dude the labradoodle. Lovely to see them after a year of not meeting up. My brother Pete and sister-in-law Julie came down from Norwich to visit, which was a lovely event. We had a walk on the river and took some classic Woodbridge shots. A friendly man from Essex was photographing this scene and I had a word with him about blipfoto, perhaps he'll turn up!
We ate out with Pete and Julie, and enjoyed fish and chips in the Cherry Tree pub, and some of that amber liquid that slips down so well. Spent the evening with Dela and John who visited us in Sweden this summer - good to see them in their own home and to spend a relaxed evening together. Dela is Ghanaian and her background shows clearly in the decor of their home. The sofas are both covered in mud cloths that she bought in Ghana years ago. I admired them! Such lovely patterns and earthy colours. See some here!
Dela gave us a mud cloth! Heavy cotton and wonderful patterns, Keith wrapped himself up in it as the northern Ghanaians would do traditionally - and he nodded off! Apparently they are originally made in Mali, neighbours of Ghana. Woodbridge is the one place in the UK where I bump into people I know in the street, we lived here for 18 months in the 80s and have been coming here for decades. It doesn't feel like home exactly, but very familiar -which is lovely.
Now we are home with K and J who are back after a singing engagement this evening. Watching a bit of TV, all politics of course. The election is getting closer and closer. The lies bigger and nastier, truth is obscured and tempers are running high. The death of two young activists for social justice for all, even for ex-prisoners, at the hand of a convicted terrorist on parole who was part of their seminar, has shocked us. The fact that the Tories are making milage out of it had shocked the grieving parents one of whom has written eloquently that his dead son would loathe this exploitation. We live in very strange times indeed.