Wanstead Village

took myself out to breakfast at gail’s. we’ve been giving way too much money to these folk and enabling them to take over london. on the other hand, i’d rather have more of them around than any more starbucks or costas. for one thing their food is so much better. i’m addicted to that banana and pecan caramel cake and i don’t even like nuts.

i need to remember to pay a visit to that pie and mash shop before it becomes yet another one to bite the dust, since millennials and middle class people don’t care much for old fashioned food anymore. and i might be one of them because i have never been to a pie and mash shop in my entire life.

i love these flowers, i love these floors and colored doors, i love the ambulance sound in the distance fighting for airplay with the birds. i love old houses and red teapots, and beautiful hipster couples stomping the pavement in chunky boots and old ladies with their shopping carts filled with bananas and bisto, i love tall church spires piercing the air and the pompom blossoms hanging from branches like yarn balls and the oak trees starting to wake up from their winter slumber unfurling translucent leaves. i love when the milk hits hot tea weaving swirly patterns on the liquid like an abstract painting and the first mouthful of a delicious sandwich in a brioche bun. life’s been ok, and oftentimes more than ok if i care to remember.

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