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Edward Wilkinson’s Spring, Picadilly (1887) is displayed at Newcastle’s Laing gallery. It shows two sets of characters, one group on the left, the other on the right. The former are poor, and spend their days selling flowers to those with cash to spare. Their clothes are shabby, and one boy looks bored, as though customers are too few, or this is not the life he would have preferred.
My house is an orchids' graveyard. They come and go, usually turning to mush because I overwatered or underwatered, or this wasn’t right or that wasn’t perfect. These pretty but fussy little flowers just do not thrive in my home.
The Church of St Martin, Ludgate, in London, is one of the least spoiled of the capital’s Christopher Wren churches, according to John Leonard in London’s Parish Churches. Sure enough, the place was characterised by lots of dark-stained wood, white paint and oiled canvasses around the altar. It is certainly attractive, though of its time.
We have more saints' days than fools’ days, but there are far more fools than saints.
The fool has said in his heart,
“There is no God.”
-Psalm 53:1
Longholme Methodist Church in Rawtenstall has to be one of the grandest chapels in Lancashire, externally, at least. Its own website says little, but it warrants a Wikipedia page which dates it back to 1842.