voting voting voting

Couldn't really justify being too lazy/disaffected/distracted to vote this time around; particularly when the polling station was so close, the whole process took about three minutes.

London, as usual, turns out to be a bit of an 'island' compared to the rest of the country. We are a diverse bunch - and have mainly got used to it - so that the easy blame of migration for our troubles doesn't really work here, or at least not for a majority. The UK Independence Party hardly got a look in, in the local elections.  

city bingo 1: all those dog-walkers

We used to play a game in Moscow called city bingo. The aim was to suggest things that were deeply specific to that particular place, but not so common that you ended up spotting them all the time. Both surprisingly easy and difficult to do. Well, now I am going to start for London. And it has to be something to do with parks and dogs. In my local park, having a dog is a deeply social activity; in fact is mainly an excuse for a lot of chatting.

(And the careful collecting of dog shit in little plastic bags seems quite a 'London' thing too.)

bonfire wars

Brilliantly thrilling - and slightly scary - bonfire night here, with one huge impromptu firework display piled up on some sand in the middle of the estate, and then what can only be described as firework wars between large numbers of children/teenagers not only throwing fireworks at each other but picking up thrown fireworks and running around with them.

community (sort of)

This estate is almost laughably communal (for those who want it). I can't walk to the shops without talking to someone I know and benefit from, as well as aim to provide, a lot of informal helping out. Plus, a community hall, a recently completed history project, a gardening club, a newly built playground, pensioner visits to the seaside and - most recently, a Funday Sunday where the local Lib Dem councillor cooked the hamburgers (well, he would, wouldn't he).

Of course, this doesn't mean we all get on. 'Community' is a much more complicated thing than that, as much about conflict as sweetness and light, with plenty of tensions between old and young, middle and working class, tenants and leaseholders. I, for one, would be happy to belt the kid who I just caught trying to steal my bike by attempting to cut through a thick metal chain with  a blunt knife. But, still, its nice this feeling of connectedness.

animal kingdom

The bit of North London I live in seems to be increasingly overrun by animals and birds. It is a large 1950s modernist public housing estate, built in amongst mature trees and grounds left over from the oversized, crumbling Edwardian mansion blocks which were knocked down to construct it. So very green and lush, and a haven for wild (and not so wild) life.  Pigeons take over any unoccupied balcony and crows shout happily all day from the trees. Also rooks, magpies, jays, woodpeckers and - occasionally -parakeets. Meanwhile foxes patrol unbothered at night-time. But the biggest contenders for a complete takeover are the grey squirrels. They are looking sleek and plump at this time of year, having helped themselves to flowers and fruit during the summer, and are now stuffing their cheeks with carefully peeled horse chestnuts.

I have resorted to a water pistol in a - losing - campaign against squirrels who shin up the communal digital cables to my third floor balcony and have been helping themselves to my apples, strawberries, rasberries, tomatoes and aubergines (I got a bit over-excited about veg-growing on my balcony again, something I was unable to do abroad). Now the produce is almost over, they come just to bury stuff instead.

So, any advice on keeping squirrels away, without actually killing them (which is tempting), would be welcome.