Afraid of what might be

I've just been in Old Street, visiting three generations of my god-daughter's family. It seems they've been having quite a rocky time out east with all this rioting and looting. They burned a car two roads away, and Kate, my god daughter's grandmother, could hear them running through the streets in the night. Terrifying, really. Some of the neighbours were apparently sleeping with pitch forks and cleavers hidden behind their front doors, which feels a little wild west!

There are noticeably fewer people on the streets as I walk towards the tube, and not a second passes when I can't hear some form of siren blaring in the distance. Philippa reckons that the police are using their sirens more liberally as a form of deterrent, which makes sense.

Still, the winds are up, which makes me think we might be in for a storm. This may well be just what we need to send the trouble makers packing. That said, there was considerably less violence last night, so maybe the bubble has already burst. 

350 years ago, Pepys met his new maid for the first time. We will never learn a great deal about her. She was called Doll, and according to Pepys, was dog ugly. Unsurprisingly, it was Elizabeth who hired her! 

Pepys had lunch with Lady Sandwich, before taking a group of society types to the theatre to watch The Devil of Edmonton, which sounds somewhat intriguing. After the play, he hired a coach and took them all back to his house for fruit. Very nice. See, he didn't live exclusively on a diet of meat!