Easter eggs in onion peel/ Going west/ Dusk mist/ Iraqis

As you may know, in Poland we dye eggs for Easter, put them in a special straw or wicker basket along with samples of food and a sugar lamb and take to church for blessing. There are many ways of dying and decorating the eggs. One of simple and common traditional ways is boiling them in onion peel. If you draw patterns with a sharpened wax candle before putting them into the colouring mix, you will have your own edible, more or less impressive 'objects of art'.
Using this simple recipe, I cooked two eggs decorating each with a cheerfully smiling face. Then I thought I could cook more eggs to take with me when visiting friends. Using a thinner candle I made a real effort to draw beautifully smiling faces. And guess what? The faces didn't turn up, they completely disappeared. Well, at least the eggs have nice intensive colour.
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A day later I'm adding my Easter Sunday 2014 pictures:

Blooming tree in the rain:

Miniature flowers in the grass on Haven Green:

Back into the rain from the gym:

In the evening I travelled west along Uxbridge Road. The top deck seat was a good observation point as usual. However, I nearly missed an Indian wedding at The Ealing Town Hall:

You can see a few prominent pubs along the through road:

 Hanwell:

19th century pride, Wharncliffe  Viaduct in the distance:

Near Ealing Hospital the rain had enough of it and went somewhere else!

 Speedy Bus 607 more or less smoothly drove us towards the lowering sun. (Here I'm tempted to insert a ling for a link to a 1970s Polish pop hit: 'To Go Towards The Sun!' Would you like me to do so or can you manage yourself/ves?)

Another viaduct en route:

Tudor-style fast food temple? Why not? King Henry VIII enjoyed a good  feast and didn't look undernourished in the slightest.

Approaching Southall as the bus passing by is leaving  this suburban district of London with high concentration of South Asian people from the Indian sub-continent, especially Punjabis among them. Often it is referred to as 'The Little India'.

I got off the bus near a big shopping centre and continued the journey basking in the luxury of my friends car, lucky me!

The sky looked glamorous, didn't it?

Soon we turned north and then south again.

We arrived at the only entrance to the maze of little streets, crescents and cul-de-sacs of the council estate, believe me... It's a jungle down there... ;-)

Yousif Naser demonstrated his magic powers:

Finally I could see Boxer's playground:

Somehow the dog didn't notice this prey, or maybe dogs ignore these legless creatures. I don't really know. Chicken wouldn't fail to snack on it, I suppose... But there were no chicken in sight. Even if someone kept them nearby, at dusk they would be fast asleep, don't you think? ;-)

Misty dusk, like between Skarzysko and Szydlowiec... ;-)

It was dark when we returned home as Yousif himself got lost on the way back, or didn't want to go home too soon. Despite my persuasion, he went straight past the turn into his street explaining to me that it would be much longer route than the one he had in mind....



At last we made it home and it was time to have some food.

The dog was rather exhausted after the escapade. Besides, he was tormented by a sense of guilt. Excited by a new toy I brought him, he tore it into pieces in no time. The toy was a rooster  that made a proper rooster  noise falling on the floor. A friend at work gave it to me long ago and I decided to hand it down to Boxer. Well, that was it for the rooster. The rooster is no more, like Monty Python's parrot...
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This time to Yousif introduced me to the works of an eminent Iraqi photographer. I picked this book from one of the shelves. The man lived away from his country, like so many of his compatriots. Where did he spend the last period of his life? In Ealing Broadway,we were neighbours...

Yousif lived in Basra, not far from the place in the picture below: