Ear ear!

This picture was in my mum's photo album. I have no idea who they are other than a scribbled note on the back that says it's for a "Mrs Townsend." and that my mum was their nanny for some time after she arrived in England.

But I do like the picture. It has a certain charm.

I just find this picture so funny...

On so many different levels but particularly every time that I look at the woman on the right.

It was actually taken as part of a series from a Hungarian online newspaper about a march that was going on in Budapest over the weekend. Not quite sure how this one made the cut though.

Perhaps someone on the paper has a sense of humour?

Another Trip to Wembley

An easy game for England.

It had been a mad dash to get to the section in the stadium where we were sitting.

In the old days, the walk up Wembley Way (now renamed Olympic Way for the sake of a two week event in 2012) and into the stadium was straight. Now, you get to the stadium only to find that you then have to walk halfway around it to even get to the turnstiles.

Something to do with crowd control. Bah!

So unfortunately we arrived a few minutes into the game, just in time to see the big screen replay of England's first goal.

We got seats that were closer to the pitch than any of my previous visits, so this made up for it somewhat, though the crowd in my section (bar two mouthy chaps behind us) was quite quiet.

A solid performance from the team but the England that the fans wanted to see forgot to turn up for the second half having already got three goals up by this point and fans streamed out in their hundreds when the game still had 15 minutes to go.

Frank Lampard got booed, though not by me, even though I do think he doesn't fit into the England side, Gareth Barry got Man of the Match, though I'm not entirely sure why. Gerrard was everywhere on the pitch, taking his leadership duties seriously.

We left after the final whistle and had fun joining the now always present post-match 30 minute queue back to Wembley Park Station, dodging police horse poo as we went!

One of these days I may try the bus route home...

Today I met Neil Gaiman...

My favourite author.

He was being interviewed by the literary editor of the Guardian at the Criterion Theatre in Piccadilly, an event that went on for a fascinating, delightful and never boring hour followed by a rush down to Waterstones for the book signing.

Fortunately, being a local (of sorts) I knew that walking down Jermyn Street rather than along Piccadilly would get me to Waterstones faster.

And boy did it pay off. I was third in the queue. Result!

Neil signed my first print copy of 'Stardust', drew a shooting star under my name, shook my hand and I even got the pictorial evidence to prove it.

Feeling a bit chuffed as I walked past the queue of hundreds of people outside the shop, snaking around the road, I embarrassingly suddenly realised that I'd walked out without my camera.

Duh!

The guy working for the publishers (Headline) has taken the photo but I'd forgotten to pick up my camera from him as I walked past! Silly me. It did mean that I got to walk straight back in and see Neil again though. Ha!