7th July, 2025.
Right … it’s officially Monday.
And … ?
A great big bottle of milk’s gone off: which means I need to replace it.
I’m going to have to go shopping.
After my weight management meeting, and I’ve picked up the blood sugar monitor from my pharmacy.
All that … ?
Done in the rain … !
Yum!
~≈💧≈~
It’s the seventh of July, 2025: twenty years after the
7/7 attacks.
You — like I — have probably heard a variation of the phrase “I remember where I was when so-and-so died.”
Or “I remember where I was when such-and-such happened.”
I can remember exactly where I was when news started coming in.
I was here, at home, when reports of what journalists initially assumed was some sort of big power cut on the Tube was going on.
By the time I got to work — around 11.30, at the pub that’s now called the Hutton Junction — reports were altering: to reveal the shocking truth.
That a group of four radicalised British men had suicide-bombed three tube stations and a London bus.
Ha!
I can still remember seeing one report: where a somber American tourist mentioned she’s seen a lot of activity around what she called an “open topped double decker bus.”
You know, the sort used to give tourists sight-seeing tours of the capital.
I found out what she meant, later: when images came in of the Tavistock Square bus.
It was shocking.
And one of those situations that burns itself into your brain.
I’d got to work early: so I could at least have a cuppa before my shift started, and play a game or two on my phone.
And can distinctly remember playing a game called
Bomberman on my phone: thinking “I better not tell people what I’m playing, it’s
not going to go down, well.”
I can also remember the mood.
A lot of the regulars were city workers who commuted into London: Shenfield Station, the nearest station to the Hutton, was on a direct line to the City, and to the Liverpool Street terminus.
The pub saw a lot of regulars coming into for a drink, early: the train lines near Liverpool Street were seriously damaged, so none of the regulars could get to work.
The regulars’ mood?
The atmosphere of the Hutton?
Was both somber, and hard to forget.
About the one positive thing to it?
Was that none of the regulars had been killed or injured.
For that, I am truly thankful.
~≈🚏≈~
Just as a final point … ?
I’ve got carpenters, due, tomorrow: the ones due to lower my cupboards.
So … ?
In between blogging, weight loss meetings, mentioning terrorist attacks … I have to empty the things, and wipe my surfaces.
Hopefully, that won’t take long … !
