I'll Show You What These Free Papers Are Good For!

Today was the first warm, sunny day we've had since I got back to London, so I took advantage of the brilliant weather and got myself down to St. James's Park for lunch and a stroll. The park was in fine form
and (like the rest of London) had become even more full of greenery in the past few weeks. There were many birds in the park today, including black swans,
coots and their young,

this likely relative of the coot, with impossibly fluffy chicks,
orange-billed geese and their goslings
(including this very lazy gosling),
and two geese new to me--both with amazing colours.
But wait, who's this up near the path?
It's a pelican!
The four pelicans gathered at this spot were busy grooming themselves; this pelican ruffled his feathers as he finished his grooming routine,and spread out his impressive wings when he finally finished making himself presentable.

From St. James's Park, I wandered over to Leicester Square, where I met Lisa, Jonathan, and Bronwen. Along the way, this doorway made me laugh
and when I got to Leicester Square, I smiled when I saw one potential reason for the posted axiom!
Oh-so-cool Londoners were not at all fazed by this aubergine-purple underwear-clad man strolling through the square. People hardly looked up from their coffees. In this vein, true Londoners do not react when confronted with this sign in a lift:Since we are one ex-Londoner, one-semi-Londoner, and two non-Londoners, Jonathan, Lisa, Bronwen, and I opted to take the stairs when the lift arrived to reveal this confusing sign. As we were on our way down, another person pushed the elevator button just as we had done. We watched to see what he did: the doors opened, he read the sign, and he immediately stepped into the lift, presumably without any problem at all! (Or maybe he's still in the elevator as I type . . .) Anyway, safely back at ground level, we enjoyed our scenic walk back to the flat,
where Bronwen was happy to be reunited with her drum kit. I kept telling her it was a radiator and not a drum, but she wouldn't have any of that. She seemed to remember last night's delicious encounter with chocolate and was delighted to discover more of that wonderful substance, but had a bit of trouble with the packaging.
She loved being out on the balcony, and when the wind kicked up, she reached out as if to touch it.
Now, that's some glass! Just imagine drinking out of a glass that went halfway up your forehead and into which you could fit both your eyes as you drank!
Oh, oh! I caught Bronwen in the bath!
After her bath, she spread out on the floor to read the two free daily papers--neither good, but since they're free, they're about all you see people reading on the tube during rush hour. If pressed, I would say that I prefer The London Paper over London Lite, but only because the former has suckered me in with their "Pet of the Day" feature, which leans heavily toward excessively cute dogs accompanied by amusing lists of their "likes" and "dislikes." Unlike me, Bronwen seems to have standards when it comes to her journalism, and she quickly declared both papers trash, grabbed one in each hand and proceeded to spin around on her bottom, flapping the drivel in the air.
She reached quite a speed this way, sending us into hysterics as she spun around and around in her artistic comment on the sad state of both papers.