Somehow, Hamoudi has now got Jinjing into the drumming. This morning they were emptying out all the kitchen cupboards trying to find makeshift maracas (rice in tupperware) drums of different sounds (buckets, saucepans and the bin) and cymbals (they hadn’t figured this one out, but mugs, metal spoons and a frying pan hanging on the wall were all possible candidates.)
This led to Neville being annoyed and slamming doors, playing his music loudly (Miley Cyrus???) and singing.
So I ran off to central London.
Wasn’t sure where I was going, but ended up at Bank, first spotting this weird doodah on top of a building. Couldn’t get any closer to work out what it is. A machine anteater? A caterpillar tank? An alien invasion happening very slowly – like Tripods, but not tripod shaped? Any ideas?
I know this doesn’t help much. But, what the fuck?
Anyway, then St Paul’s appeared.
One thing I love about London is there is no uniformity to the buildings. Shiny new chrome can be next to a dome over 1,400 years old.
St Paul’s, like many English buildings, is filled with statues of toddlers and babies, which suddenly occurred to me is a bit weird.
Especially when so many don’t look very happy.
The carvings below were especially disturbing to me, since they seem to show two winged babies being whispered to by evil ghost babies.
I know some of you (Calmgrove?) are knowledgeable about old buildings, so maybe someone can tell me a reason.
The din had calmed down by the time I got home. Hamoudi had a plan about going busking with their makeshift drum kit. I suggested they got Neville to sing with them and he was quite enthusiastic. Sorry London.