Lions

I still can't get used to calling our neighbourhood "Stokey," but everyone seems to do it (even Bob), so I suppose at some point it'll stop sounding strange. Anyway, Stokey has plenty of popular restaurants, and today we decided to have Sunday brunch at one of the most popular, The Blue Legume. Although the outdoor tables were empty today (due to the cold weather and drizzling rain),

the place was packed inside, and we were lucky to get a table in the lovely back conservatory. They have an impressive range of brunch items, but we both decided to stick to a favourite standby that we haven't had in a long time: eggs Florentine.

Along with some freshly squeezed juice (grapefruit for me; orange for Bob), we were pretty pleased with our neighbourhood brunch, and it was nice to go back outside and find ourselves so close to home. We walked through Abney Park Cemetery afterwards,
spotting this wee inhabitant atop this cross,

and this much larger resident, looking like the brother of the Highgate Cemetery lion, clutching a spring of red.

When I got home, I found out that this resemblance was more than coincidental, as George Wombwell (in Highgate) and Frank and Susannah Bostock (in Abney Park) were all menagerists, related by marriage, still connected by the sleeping lions that grace their gravesites.