Kensington Gardens

In which Tick-Tock perceives his hero, and returns to the Old Country

Wellanow. I'm back. Surprisingly pleased to be back, too, which I currently attribute to missing my tea and books. (Curious fact: I was unable to locate any good tea shops in Wales. I conjecture that this is either because 1) Although tea is a common drink, everyone is content to consume it via bags, or because 2) I suck.) So far, I haven't actually done anything except take tea with Kusch and play a lot of video games, but I'm hoping to get some writing done in the next week or so.

Before coming back, I did stuff. One and a half months of Stuff, actually, since my last post on the matter. (Astute readers will notice that a pair of posts previously promised are missing. I would much prefer if everyone pretended that never happened, however, because as it turns out, one wasn't a sufficient subject to fascinate, while the other wasn't really a subject at all.) For the most part, these one and a half months and the Stuff therein were excellent. This is despite large portions of the Stuff being study-based. I visited Harlech and the town of Caernarfon, and gawked at Snowdon (all in one day!), was visited by friends, found sea-glass, was shown hidden and verdant streams, and purchased a harmonica. All told, an excellent tally. (There may or may not be a lengthier account later. At present, not much of it seems to make for good stories, although it was good fun.)

In the last two days, my traveling companions and I went to London, since that's where the airport was.
London was eventful. The first day was spent arriving, and then looking for Kensington Gardens. We finally found them late in the evening: as it turns out, we were living on the road leading up to the main gate. We had just been looking in the wrong direction.
The same evening, we got lost in the embassy area while looking for a restaurant (which, again, turned out to be just around the bend from where we stayed), but if anyone asks, I'm adamantly declaring that I wanted to visit the consulate of Brunei as a sight-seeing spot.
The following day, ambulation was had by all, with shop-lookings (many closed, few open) and a visit to the bronze of Pan near the Long Water. Considering my opinion of the book, this was exceedingly pleasing. (Also, the small bronze mice are very cute.)
Oh, and: Peter Pan is copyrighted in perpetuity to the Great Ormond St. Children's Hospital, but The Little White Bird is not. Thus, I give you, in the public domain: Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens.
Then we went home. And since then, I've been drinking tea pretty much non-stop.

Und now: Lists!

Books and comics purchased:
Captain Alatriste, by Arturo Pérez-Reverte (give or take a few accents)
Straken (part three in some trilogy or other), by Terry Brooks
Secret of the Crocodiles, by Some Schmoe (may or may not be an accurate name)
V for Vendetta, by Alan Moore (which I enjoyed distinctly more than I previously recalled)
Cerebus (Cerebus, album 1), by Dave Sim
High Society (Cerebus, album 2), still by Dave Sim (gasp!)
Ghost in the Shell, by Masamune Shirow
How to Abuse Parentheses, by Marcel Proust*

Objects Constructed:
One sandwich-wrapping-paper hat, deeply flawed
One bark boat (There should have been more, but owing to the next list, there weren't)
One near-functioning pirate internet connection
Two hidden caches of nice rocks (not re-found)
Roughly three gabillion paper cranes
One lasting animosity (with an old woman/crone)

Flaws in Local Bark (Aberystwyth, Wales):
Insufficient thickness
Excessive porosity
Poor structural integrity on account of biological decomposition
Scarce


*Not actually a book