Saturday 24th August 2019, 1.15pm (day 2,921)
No commentary to make, really — just a well-lit scene that I liked, as we all went our respective ways on this Saturday afternoon. I will note that today was the penultimate day of my 40s however…
Being 42
Life, one day at a time
Author Archives: Drew Whitworth
Buddleia butterfly
Friday 23rd August 2019, 2.55pm (day 2,920)
The last few days have seemed a bit drab colour-wise. But the blue skies returned today. This peacock butterfly (not a red admiral, as I originally identified it — apparently) was enjoying the local buddleia bounty.
Gaz
Thursday 22nd August 2019, 6.40pm (day 2,919)
Gaz is a Railway regular, and given enough time and my patience probably all who drink in there regularly have been, or will get, on here at some point. I like this shot, with the glasses behind. It does him justice I think; he’s a nice chap.
Finished building project
Wednesday 21st August 2019, 12.10pm (day 2,918)
I have tried to cut out pictures of building sites in Manchester to avoid sheer overload, but hey, here’s a rarity — a recently finished building project. Until about 18 months ago the new Henry Royce Building was just a grassy patch, but now it is there in all its bland majesty. Although I don’t think it’s yet finished inside.
Two shots in a row from Manchester… a sign it will start to creep back into my life on a more regular basis as the new year approaches. I’m not really going anywhere for three months now.
Propped up
Tuesday 20th August 2019, 3.40pm (day 2,917)
I have run through various scenarios as to how this air conditioning unit ended up in this situation, and none of them are very plausible. Nor are explanations as to why it should remain like this and not just be removed. But mine not to reason why.
Coming home
Monday 19th August 2019, 10.10pm (day 2,916)
In all the eight years (minus a week) that I have been doing this blog there have been various selfies and shots of Joe — but we’ve never been captured together. Until tonight. Other than the slightly grubby glass in which we’re being reflected, I quite like this shot. To the right, the ferals gather at one end of Halifax bus station, being told off by some security guard who calls one of them a ‘scrote’ every few seconds. Meanwhile I ponder the fact that I’ve entered the last week of my 40s.
Awaiting the busker
Sunday 18th August 2019, 12 noon (day 2,915)
An empty stage, with a performance presumably to take place shortly — whether the gathered audience are in the mood for it or not on a Sunday lunchtime.
Outside the Caledonian Hotel, Carlisle
Saturday 17th August 2019, 12.55pm (day 2,914)
No particular reason for depicting this pub — I didn’t patronise it — but I do like the arrangement of the tableau and the way the red door sets off the monochrome. Presumably the mobility scooter belongs to one of the two guys on the right. Although maybe they both claim it and are about to fight over it.
Barricade
Friday 16th August 2019, 1.45pm (day 2,913)
I have to write. I basically barricaded myself in the house to do so, even if only symbolically. These are the tough assignments: days in the house, working, grey and dull weather, and not even any family members around to pose for portraits. So here is the barricade, either a messy abstract of a shot or an interesting bunch of textures. What’s going on with the floor exactly, I don’t know, but that’s my house for you.
Handshakes
Thursday 15th August 2019, 6.35pm (day 2,912)
More football, I know, but it was that, or stay in by myself on a lovely August evening and give you a photo of a bloke loading a skip outside my house. At least the rim-light is good on this one.
