It makes no sense. I don’t think I’m capable of making sense any more. I have just started writing for this website, and in a fit of energy did half my work for January in the first two days of the month. That means 3,500 words including my blog post last night. I’m not sure I can even speak English any more. No wonder Nathan is writing his own posts for the new blog.
Anyway, my film-reviewing work today took me to Greenwich and the Big Scream showing at the Picturehouse there. And what a nice cinema it is! I like a Picturehouse, our local being Brixton Ritzy. But they weren’t showing the film I needed to see, so I left Nathan and Roo to go there and watch “Rise of the Guardians” while Eva and I hopped on the train to the countryside.
As I said, it was a nice cinema and worked well with a crawling-climbing monster. There is a large space between the upper and lower seating tiers, so I sat there (in very comfy and furry seats) and Eva crawled around on the floor. She only tried to eat someone else’s popcorn bucket once or twice and seemed quite happy. The lights were bright enough that I could see what she was up to, and what looked like a big gap at the back of the lower seats turned out to have a step in it that would catch her nicely (not that I let her fall down there…). The only problem was that the loos were a bit of a trek from the screen.
After Eva tried to eat cardboard for the third or fourth time, I deduced that she must be hungry. So we went to the National Maritime Museum cafe which I assumed – rightly – would be full of other hungry children. Prices were on the steep side (this is Greenwich after all), but £8.50 got me a generous portion of lasagne with a side of sweet potato wedges. I mainly ate the lasagne, Eva mainly ate the wedges.
Sweet potato wedges are pretty much a perfect weaning food. Soft enough to eat easily, firm enough to hold, bright enough to attract them and tasty enough to go back for. She ate them very nicely and got some approving glances from the very posh people we were sharing a table with. I knew they were posh because they’d come to the Museum to research their family tree. If you have a family tree that’s worthy of being in a museum, you’re probably quite posh. Mine isn’t in a museum, despite the appearance of a famous physicist and a Mexican actress. Criminal.
So, given that I seemed to be in polite company, what did I do? That’s right, I asked for a doggy bag. Those wedges were too good to waste. I briefly considered wrapping them in a napkin and stashing them in the changing bag before I decided to ask for a takeaway box. Eva had them again for tea. My father would be proud.
We spent a few quick moments looking round the museum but I really wanted to leave it for a time when Roo was with me. Think of this as a recon visit. The Children’s Gallery looked exciting and he would love all the hands-on stuff but it was just all wrong to be there without him. Don’t worry NMM, we’ll be back. Oh, you weren’t worried…
On the way home, I saw this pub which I’ll put on the list of places not to take Roo.: