Wednesday 24th January 2018, 1.50pm (day 2,344)
“What the hell are you looking at?”
Wise words. I’ve been asking myself that for the last 2,344 days in fact.
Being 42
Life, one day at a time
Author Archives: Drew Whitworth
Mr Grey
Tuesday 23rd January 2013, 6.30pm (day 2,343)
What can I say? It’s Tuesday. I spent the day sat on my arse grading student papers. It’s pub night…
Pink litter
Monday 22nd January 2018, 12.20pm (day 2,342)
Tory cuts notwithstanding there remains a decent municipal waste tip a couple of miles away and even if you can’t drive to that the council will pick up this kind of thing from your house. So, sorry, but what’s the fucking point in dumping a broken chair by the side of the river, in a now-inaccessible but visible and central spot, where it will presumably sit for several months? Mucky bloody bastards. I hate this kind of neglect. I could say it’s a middle-aged thing but actually I’ve always hated it.
Doug makes a connection
Sunday 21st January 2018, 3.25pm (day 2,341)
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.
Will he kiss her?
Saturday 20th January 2018, 2.00pm (day 2,340)
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.
In a coma
Friday 19th January 2018, 5.50pm (day 2,339)
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)
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.
Closed today. And for another six years.
Wednesday 17th January 2018, 4.10pm (day 2,337)
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.
Foulness and crud
Tuesday 16th January 2018, 11.35am (day 2,336)
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.
Bricks and barbs
Monday 15th January 2018, 4.35pm (day 2,335)
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.
Being 42 