Pushpins

Today Bob and I met at Lewisham rail station and bussed over to Blackheath Village, which we had heard was a quaint little village spot in sprawling London. The village streets were so short that we walked them in a matter of minutes, and although we didn't make it far onto the heath itself today (too windy!), it would be lovely on a summer day. All Saints' Church was an impressive sight directly on the heath,

Bob wanted to go to the wonderfully named Age Exchange Reminiscence Centre to "talk to the old people," as he put it, but it was closed by the time we made our way there, and the very village-y named streets of Tranquil Vale and Montpelier Vale had some nice businesses on them, but the most salient aspect of Blackheath Village on this weekday was the terrible traffic jam that filled the streets while we were there. Back at Lewisham rail station, I suddenly got a craving for toast,
and on the bus back home from the tube, a man sat in front of us with a very unique way of distracting himself from his commute. While most people insulate themselves from the time they spend commuting by reading, listening to music, or talking on their mobiles, this man (judging from the papers sticking out of his backpack when he got off the bus, he might have been an analyst of some sort) had a different tactic:When he got on the bus, the pushpins were lined up at the top of his corkboard, but during his ride, he rearranged them into a smiley face, repeatedly adjusting the angle and colour distribution of the pins until he was satisfied with his creation. The whole thing made me think of all the fun I had with Lite-Brite when I was a kid, and if you also find yourself wanting to wander down that particular memory lane, you can approximate the experience here.