Doug makes a connection

Sunday 21st January 2018, 3.25pm (day 2,341)

Playing connections, 21/1/18

I’m still not particularly well, and despite a tolerable interlude yesterday the weather basically continues very crappy: ‘Outside’ at the moment is a euphemism for ‘Being sprayed with icy precipitation in a variety of forms’. So, more board games then. And a visit from Doug, who thereby makes — in part — his third appearance on the blog.

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Will he kiss her?

Saturday 20th January 2018, 2.00pm (day 2,340)

Bench by the river, 20/1/18

He did do so, a couple of minutes later. Yes, I do have a photo of that moment as well, but there was too much flare on it and anyway they can keep their privacy in that respect.

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In a coma

Friday 19th January 2018, 5.50pm (day 2,339)

Watching DVD, 19/1/18

Today was a total write-off in every sense, thanks to the norovirus. If you’ve never had it, all I can say is, lucky you. I roused myself from coma only to take a photo and prevent this blog grinding to a halt after 2,338 days.

(The DVD? LCD Soundsystem’s live recording, Shut Up and Play the Hits.)

 

Robin at the station

Thursday 18th January 2018, 9.35am (day 2,338)

Robin at station, 18/1/18

Continued dim and gloomy light means this one isn’t going to win any nature photography plaudits but nevertheless, robins are hard birds not to like. Cute, colourful, unafraid of people, they hang out where we like to be — like this one at the railway station this morning. It would be nice if they would stay in one place a little longer, but I just about got the focus right here. I make this the fifth robin to appear on the blog. My favourite? This one, from 4th January 2017.

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Closed today. And for another six years.

Wednesday 17th January 2018, 4.10pm (day 2,337)

Town Hall closed, 17/1/18

The title — and the sign — refer to the closure, as of today, of Manchester Town Hall for restoration, ‘until 2024’.

You know, I was just thinking that what this city really needs is a significant, very extended, disruptive building project. I’ll be fifty-five fucking years old in 2024.

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Foulness and crud

Tuesday 16th January 2018, 11.35am (day 2,336)

Weather crud, 16/1/18

Utterly foul, grim day, not even any good honest snow but endless waves of disgusting, sloppy sleet and hail that just kept being driven in on squally winds. After leaving the house briefly on a hunter-gatherer trip this morning I determined I would have nothing more to do with it. Today, the ‘smudges’ are in front of the lens, not on it.

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Bricks and barbs

Monday 15th January 2018, 4.35pm (day 2,335)

Bricks and barbed wire, 15/1/18

On this day last year I was on my way to Moscow (at 5.20am) whereas five years ago today I was in Nairobi having a rather good cup of coffee. No similar travels this January however. Got to look around the local neighbourhood for inspiration: lousy weather makes even hiking off the agenda. Consider the smudge on the lens artistic license.

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View from the dugout

Sunday 14th January 2018, 2.40pm (day 2,334)

Dugout view, 14/1/18

A weekend of diverse entertainments continued at the over-named ‘Stafflex Arena’ as Huddersfield Town Ladies took on Leicester City Women in the Women’s Premier North and I collected my 17th different football competition of the season. Well, like this blog, it’s something to do isn’t it. A 1-1 draw — both sides might have benefited from practicing their finishing skills a little more.

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Picture House steps

Saturday 13th January 2018, 4.30pm (day 2,333)

Cinema steps, 13/1/18

Clare digs into her purse to find evidence of the various discounts she is entitled to at the Hebden Bridge Picture House. And the movie? As you can see by looking closely at the board behind, it was the very brilliant Monty Python’s Life of Brian, as funny a 90 minutes as was ever shown on a cinema screen. There are many worse ways to spend a late Saturday afternoon.

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Trades Club, Friday night

Friday 12th January 2018, 9.50pm (day 2,332)

Glitterball, 12/1/18

Planet Glitterball oversees the fun and frolics at the Friday night disco in the Trades Club. I remember going out. Not necessarily coming home, but that’s a story for Saturday morning. Perhaps.

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