I went to an estate meeting yesterday. Dad came too although he doesn't speak English, but everybody was friendly and I interpreted so he was ok.

Anyway, the meeting was about ways to improve the estate and a few of the suggestions I made boiled down to running the estate as a commune, although now they're referred to as TMOs (Tenant Management Organisations).

My proposals were actually taken seriously and will be discussed further.

As I was talking them over and telling my dad what we were saying, it occurred to me that this is the sort of thing he would have done himself. When I was a child I remember him going out twice a week or so for party meetings, where they talked about possible improvements to the city, some of which were actually implemented over the years.

Thinking that my dad was sitting there while I was doing what he used to do when I didn't even understand what he was doing made me feel kind of proud.

In other news...

There was a "think before you speak" moment this week.
I was doing a mystery shop in Kings Cross, at about midnight. For non Londoners: Kings Cross used to be a notorious prostitution spot. It's been cleaned up a bit now, but it's still dodgy.
Just as I'd chained my bike to a post, a taxi dropped off two blokes right in front of me. One staggered over, looked at the bike and slurred: "Can I borrow it?"
Without thinking where I was I laughed and replied: "Of course, it's 500 quid for the night".
His mate, not quite as drunk, reached him, put an arm around his shoulders and, looking at me as if I were out of my head, took him away.

The bike, I meant for the bike!