Growing up as a kid, I had a dog in our family, his name was Nero. He died aged 18 (126 doggie years old?) Every day we would take him to the park. Every day he would 'make love' in the park. All day, every day he would have a smile on his face. When he died, his balls were as big as his head but he still had a smile on his face... and that 'smile' was always, always infectious, wherever he went.
Given the political and financial clout of the power elite in Chiswick, surely, if we all pull together, we can find some broader, more inclusive, cross community/social class uses for some of these brownfield sites on our doorstep? |