Unadulterated Hampstead
It was such lovely weather this morning that I suggested to partner that we should Go Out on some Excursion, and we determined upon a walk in Hampstead Garden Suburb.
One feels that this particular area was less the purlieu of individuals committing sensitively delineated adultery in order to gain material for their next novel than people engaged in what might be considered Bloomsbury-north style experiments in new forms of relationships, when not performing eurythmic exercises on the lawn*, but perhaps I am wrong.
By the time we got there the weather was perhaps somewhat more overcast and less sunny than it had been earlier but we walked around a bit and it was pleasant. We also took in the Golders Green Crematorium. I thought there was something a bit weird about a bedecked Christmas tree standing on the lawn upon which ashes may be scattered, adjacent to the memorial wall.
*Or maybe yoga: Orwell in The Road to Wigan Pier has a scathing passage about the type of person who ought to go back to Hampstead Garden Suburb and get on with his yoga there out of sight, or some such. This entry was originally posted at https://oursin.dreamwidth.org/2853866.html. Please comment there using OpenID. View
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