On Friday I spoke to Sarah Clarke-Wareham. She has written Book of 24 different poems, and it is called Common Ground Anyone? Rhyme Time for SW Mums.
The following is one of the poems about Northcote Road, and for many who are familiar with the area it will make you smile.

On Northcote Road we dote

Armies have their HQ, while gangs feel safe on their turf
Sports teams have home grounds, or home breaks if you like to surf
Old men have their locals, city men have their clubs
Cool men have Shoreditch; our men have Youngs pubs
So it’s not surprising that SW Mums have somewhere to call their own
A place that we can be confident is filled with just our clones
Sanctity when we’re feeling down, a comforting, familiar abode
I couldn’t write this book without mentioning the glorious Northcote Rd

As a gaggle of mums we head to Crumpet, vying for buggy space
Oli is back on the road somehow, but Becky has given chase
Tommy has spied the fairy cakes; Molly is stuck on the loo
Amelia is Queen of the castle, Harry needs a poo
Ruby is eating sugar cubes, Marley is under the table
Josh has built a tower with blocks, although it’s not looking too stable
But it doesn’t matter you smile to each other, because you’re behind Crumpet doors
So you drink your coffee, have a chat, and pretend that they’re not yours

Another day and you’re there with just your kids; it’s time for a haircut
Sally’s booked up for the next 3 weeks, can’t even fit you in when you tut
So you head to Trotters, but struggle to drag them away from driving that car
Unfortunately the fish tank doesn’t do the trick, so you bribe them with a chocolate bar
While you’re there you can’t help having a little mooch around
Which is why husband says “How could 2 haircuts cost one hundred and twenty pounds?!”

Finally you have a morning to yourself, so you head to Questionnaire
You sail through Whistles, and Sweaty Betty, by Kew you just don’t care
By White Stuff you’re 25, by Fat Face you’re in your teens
A mixture of Neal’s Yard and Space NK gives you the necessary means
You stop for a Starbucks takeout latte, treat yourself to a blueberry muffin
A friend tells you she can’t find a thing, but you’re sure she must be bluffing
You walk past Jigsaw, Fat Face Kids, Jo-Jo’s and Petit Bateau
Today is me-time you tell yourself, only one place to spend your doe
But then you have a glass of wine or two (well, All Bar One is just so handy)
And you can’t keep away from those cute little dresses: to the baby, like candy

Saturday morning with nothing to do, there’s no better place to head
Don’t know why Boiled Egg & Soldiers closed down, but I think they probably fled
Toddlers throwing tantrums in the street, babies scream for food
Clapham Junction singles stay at home, they don’t dare intrude
Organic fruit and veg looks amazing, and is only twice the price
Fresh bread, muffins, pastries and pies means the bread stall is sure to entice
You spend a fortune on Mark Anderson photos; does London ever look that good?
If Northcote Rd committee took over City Hall, well, perhaps it would

You’ve shopped for your children and yourself, there’s only one place left to dress
But of course Northcote Rd knows you well, and so caters with equal finesse
There’s Cath Kidson for kitchenware or Rosie’s pink bedroom theme
Oliver Bonas for funky extras or Cuisinere for utensils that gleam
There’s Doves for your Sunday roasts, Salumeria Napoli for your Italian night
Fara for kids toys, Pretty Pregnant if you get that fright
One Small Step or Trotters means your children will always have shoes
And if you’re looking to sell your house? Well, there are a few estate agents to choose

But what is this? The sun is setting and suddenly things start to change
The haven of SW family life is looking a little strange
Buggies replaced with scooter man, lattes replaced with beer
Crying tantrums replaced with pumping music, and then that thing we fear
The thing that ensures we scurry home, why did we leave it so late?
The arrival en masse of twenty-somethings, with freedom in their gait