Now

Off into the scorching heat to get my keyboard and its bits and pieces moved. I'm going to take my time though. Shortly ago I did feel a little light-headed, so I'm not going to rush anything. This morning I want to try and get someone to make a recording of me playing my stuff. I'm going to pace myself.

Moods

I must try and snap out of this mood at some point. I did read something earlier about how people with ASD are prone to anxiety, worry and panics. They often use a special interest as a barrier to these. In my case that's the pointless family history stuff I've been pulling together. All the time your mind is occupied, you're not thinking and worrying. As with many of the articles I read, I could have written it myself about myself. It's uncanny.

20th Century sanitation (in the 21st Century)

This is the Greenwich I remember. It's wharves, quays, cranes, tugs and barges were in the nighttime of their lives. All the riverside industries were about to shut down for good.  It was dirty with the accumulation of centuries of soot, grime and filth. It had its own particular smell. It must have been unpleasant to many people, but I rather liked that smell. I can still smell it. Everything you touched left you covered in soot.

This is how the scene of the second photo looks now, taken from just beyond the archway in that photo. Now it's paved rather than cobbled. It's clean. It's prettified. It doesn't smell any more. What a shame.
My Greenwich was a rough place. People worked hard and drank hard. They were fractious. They swore. There was often a bust-up in the pubs. What I miss, though, is the tremendous sense of community. I use the word in its proper sense of being inclusive of the general population, rather than the bastardised meaning of today (the this community, the that community etc). The word community, for me,  should describe what we all share in common. Nowadays it describes what we have in common with a minority, and how we are different from other people. It is divisive.
I still love Greenwich, but it ain't the same place. It's just the carcass of the town, with all its guts ripped out. It's beautiful but soulless, except for the Park of course. That doesn't change. But how I miss the dirt and the smell. And I miss the people (except my own family). The people are all gone too.

A musical interlude

I'm looking forward to harpsichording in a very short while. I hope the hot weather won't prevent people from visiting us. I expect my pale suit, pale shirt and pale tie probably look quite dapper. All, of course, courtesy of the local charity shops. I do like a bargain!

Last night

I got round to watching one of my favourite films, The Woman in Question (1950). Jean Kent was a wonderful film actress, and there were good performances too from Hermione Baddeley, Dirk Bogarde, Susan Shaw and John McCallum. I stopped the film a few times when upstairs sounded like they were kicking off. Noise affects me very badly, and I find it hard to concentrate or settle down with the sort of stuff I've been getting from upstairs. By bedtime I felt really miserable, and had the feeling that I didn't live there.

A convivial evening

Yesterday around 7pm there was much screaming and shouting from upstairs. The man seemed to be encouraging the toddler to scream and shout too. It only went on for about half an hour, and I managed to record some of it. What I didn't catch, unfortunately, was when the man shouted 'wanker' at a black man who was walking past. What a horrible person.
This morning I saw the lady from the tenants association. She asked me how things are with them, and gave me an update. Apparently the man is going to be moving out. YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The weather

It felt very warm all day yesterday. There was quite a stiff breeze last night, but that too was warm. Yesterday evening I had a nice alfresco barbeque dinner with friends. This morning I can actually say that it's a hot one. This afternoon looks set to be a scorcher. Phew!