In 'Da Hood

I know. That doesn't really work with my voice, does it? Ah well, I tried. So . . . happy Wednesday! You'll be delighted to hear I slept well last night. I'm delighted, anyway!

As I trotted to the library last night to return my overdue library books (£30 in fines, thank you very much), I was reminded what a fantastic neighbourhood I live in -- and what a past it's had.

Famous philosopher John Stuart Mill lived down the street. Today, we back up our work (well, sort of, in my case), but there was nothing to help poor John when his maid tossed a stack of his writing into the fire, thinking it was scrap! Ouch. 
I grew up torturing my family with Clementi tunes on the piano, so it's fantastic to pass by his old house almost every day! I still picture him turning over in his grave whenever my fingertips touched the keyboard.
Agatha Christie! Almost my next-door neighbour! Need I say more?
Okay, I admit it: I'm not a massive fan of Joyce; bit wordy for my liking. But I do admire his sentence construction and that's quite an honour for ol' James, I'm sure.

So there you have it! A little bit of neighbourhood history. And who knows, maybe one day there will be a blue plaque on my residence: Talli Roland, famous wine drinker with liver extraordinaire. One can but dream.
What would yours say?