That Monday feeling...
Nov. 7th, 2005 02:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annwfynToo soon to be out of me bed,
Too soon to be back to this bus queue caper,
Fumbling for change for me picture paper,
On a Monday morning.
I appear to be in a mopey mood this morning. I don't entirely know why, but I woke up this morning with a head full of muddy emotions and an ache in my neck that won't quite go. Lots of little things seem to be nagging and nibbling at my brain - little things which shouldn't mean very much, but today they just seem to.
Bah. And humbug.
I shan't dwell too long on the things I'm moping about* but shall instead spread some joy, or at any rate news of something very shiney I found today.
It's called 'unit 142', and it is set in the Hungerford Arcade, on Hungerford High Street. For those who do not know such things, Hungerford is a little town about 10/15 minutes drive away from Lambourn, where I was brought up, and maybe 40 minutes drive away from Oxford. It's a small town which is mostly known for its antique shops, and for the massacre which took place in 1987 when a man called Michael Ryan picked up a gun and went a huntin', leaving quite a few people dead before killing himself in the local secondary school. In the girl's toilets, inconveniently enough, which I was finally told on the school open day by one of the prefects who was showing the little primary school children around, just as I headed off towards the loo on my own. Apparently those toilets are meant to be haunted as well, which must really such for Mr Ryan. Spending eternity in the company of urinating adolescents really must really suck.
Anyway. Ahem. Hungerford. Place where a massacre happened, and also a place where there are a lot of antique shops and pretty crafty places, and a large place called the Hungerford Arcade which is a series of tiny shop units selling a lot of things which range from 'precious antiques' to 'junk' with a lot of other things in between.
Now, I happened to be in Hungerford today aspierot is working there and it's kind of en route from London to Oxford (or near enough that it was feasible to give him a lift before heading library-wards), and I stopped for lunch and a bit of a potter. I wandered into the Hungerford Arcade and there I found Unit 142. What Unit 142 specialises in are old things. REALLY old things. Such as Egyptian beads from 1000 BC, re-strung into a necklace that can be worn today. Such as a Romano-British ring from the second century AD, also wearable today. Such as a Byzantine silver crucifix from the third century AD. Such as genuine Ushbati figurines from ancient Egypt. All with certificates of authenticity. It's incredible stuff.
I stood there for an age, just staring in rapture. When I'm rich, I'll go back there one day.
*For the sake of not being cryptic, they can be summarised to 'money worries, house worries, game worries, ST'ing worries, entirely irrational conviction that no one likes me worries, weight and self image worries and a deep awareness that I'm letting myself get behind on the work for my thesis. Erm. It's also worth pointing out that all of these in themselves are very little worries that I'm overreacting to for reasons I don't quite understand. But anyway...
Too soon to be back to this bus queue caper,
Fumbling for change for me picture paper,
On a Monday morning.
I appear to be in a mopey mood this morning. I don't entirely know why, but I woke up this morning with a head full of muddy emotions and an ache in my neck that won't quite go. Lots of little things seem to be nagging and nibbling at my brain - little things which shouldn't mean very much, but today they just seem to.
Bah. And humbug.
I shan't dwell too long on the things I'm moping about* but shall instead spread some joy, or at any rate news of something very shiney I found today.
It's called 'unit 142', and it is set in the Hungerford Arcade, on Hungerford High Street. For those who do not know such things, Hungerford is a little town about 10/15 minutes drive away from Lambourn, where I was brought up, and maybe 40 minutes drive away from Oxford. It's a small town which is mostly known for its antique shops, and for the massacre which took place in 1987 when a man called Michael Ryan picked up a gun and went a huntin', leaving quite a few people dead before killing himself in the local secondary school. In the girl's toilets, inconveniently enough, which I was finally told on the school open day by one of the prefects who was showing the little primary school children around, just as I headed off towards the loo on my own. Apparently those toilets are meant to be haunted as well, which must really such for Mr Ryan. Spending eternity in the company of urinating adolescents really must really suck.
Anyway. Ahem. Hungerford. Place where a massacre happened, and also a place where there are a lot of antique shops and pretty crafty places, and a large place called the Hungerford Arcade which is a series of tiny shop units selling a lot of things which range from 'precious antiques' to 'junk' with a lot of other things in between.
Now, I happened to be in Hungerford today as
pierot is working there and it's kind of en route from London to Oxford (or near enough that it was feasible to give him a lift before heading library-wards), and I stopped for lunch and a bit of a potter. I wandered into the Hungerford Arcade and there I found Unit 142. What Unit 142 specialises in are old things. REALLY old things. Such as Egyptian beads from 1000 BC, re-strung into a necklace that can be worn today. Such as a Romano-British ring from the second century AD, also wearable today. Such as a Byzantine silver crucifix from the third century AD. Such as genuine Ushbati figurines from ancient Egypt. All with certificates of authenticity. It's incredible stuff.I stood there for an age, just staring in rapture. When I'm rich, I'll go back there one day.
*For the sake of not being cryptic, they can be summarised to 'money worries, house worries, game worries, ST'ing worries, entirely irrational conviction that no one likes me worries, weight and self image worries and a deep awareness that I'm letting myself get behind on the work for my thesis. Erm. It's also worth pointing out that all of these in themselves are very little worries that I'm overreacting to for reasons I don't quite understand. But anyway...
