Big pastries!

Today we went down to the Parliament to see the Warhol exhibition. Once again, it amazes me the number of staff standing around. We had about ten security staff at the door, and they made the man in front of us take off his watch as well. There were four people entering.

Interesting to see such famous works of art, of course. A very interesting one in many parts of the minute by minute news of the assassination of Kennedy. Of course, no photographs allowed. The attendant was rather more scary than the one in the National Gallery who just sat on his chair, and you can’t take someone in tartan trousers too seriously... This chap looked like an bouncer in one of those gritty British dramas. And he kept walking round, glaring at everyone. But I did get a photo. I’m quite sure Andy wouldn’t have minded a jot - he made a career out of pinching other folks’ photos and doing doodles on them.

We discovered that the cafe in the Parliament has the biggest Danish pastries in town. That figures! Those MPs have special whopping ones delivered, all the better to help them make decisions on spending up large on fanciful projects, while cutting essential services.

On the way home I stopped at Bobby. I watched as tourists set up a constant stream to touch his nose (which still hasn’t been repaired, after it was repaired).

I liked the boy in red - such joy on his face. The woman was rather glam and kept popping back several times. They don’t know each other. It’s two photos. As a diversionary tactic, I fiddled about and cut her out and flipped her over. Actually, the boy looks cut out, but he wasn't. I should have been cleaning the stairs. I may need to go and do that now.

The new owners are coming tomorrow. The flat is not looking at its best. But they saw it at its best, and bought it!