Few chances to take a good photo today until the sun began to go down. When you live in a valley the sun drops earlier than elsewhere and today the mast that is otherwise a minor blemish on the view marked the point at which it dipped below the horizon. Stonehenge – mobile communications mast – same thing? (From our house on Dec 28th each year, at least.)
Drove home today via the scenic route, and took some landscape shots I’m quite pleased with (two others have already made it onto my other photography sites – see the links at the very bottom of the home page).
However, this picture is more fun. Said scenic route from Morecambe to Hebden Bridge takes us through the remote (well, remote for England) Forest of Bowland and through the little village of Dunsop Bridge. According to the nice people at the Ordnance Survey, Dunsop Bridge’s telephone box is the exact geographical centre of Great Britain. So here we are at the centre of the country.
No one seems exactly sure how this is measured, however. Is it just the island of Great Britain? Or do you count all the satellites, like the Shetlands? Or is it the UK, which should therefore include Northern Ireland?
Let’s not worry about it. Few people seem to, anyway. The box is in a bit of a neglected state to tell the truth, I don’t think BT are really that bothered about it. I doubt anyone actually makes calls from here.
I’ve never heard a satisfactory explanation for why we call it Boxing Day. Whatever it means historically, these days it usually means, for me, attending a football match if there’s one in the vicinity. Today therefore becomes the Globe Arena’s second appearance on this site (after September 23rd). We did this one rather differently, however; our Christmas present for Carol & Dave, our in-laws, was to sample the full matchday hospitality package, with dinner in the suite under the main stand. Interesting experience.
This lady appears today for no other reason than I think she looks good in this photo. She becomes, begging her pardon, the oldest person so far on this blog.
Hard to know quite how to encapsulate a day like Christmas without cliché. But here is Joe using one of his Christmas presents…. a chip off the old block? Who knows?
The game, by the way, is mölkky, a version of skittles for which I developed a liking in Finland last midsummer. Very tactical. Worth a try, if you have a piece of flat land about half the size of a tennis court to play it on.
Also, today is the end of the 4th month of this blog. I feel like I have been doing it forever. Actually I have twice as much left as I have already done.
And a happy Christmas to you all….
And so this is Christmas…. we effected a transfer to the in-laws’ this morning. They live in Morecambe, a strange place, quite run down in many ways but located on a slice of genuine physical beauty, the bay to which it gives its name. I’m happy with this pic but I suffered for it – this was taken into the teeth of a vicious gale.
The rain came down again. It won’t be a white Christmas this year, unlike the last two. When my sister & her family came round, indoor games were the order of the day. I like this shot for its signs of movement. Joe’s 4-1 up, but I don’t know what the final score was. His tactic is usually to twizz both spinners round at maximum velocity for the entire game. Sometimes it can be devastatingly effective.
I probably come across as someone who disagrees with the way Britain is currently being run – which I admit. But despite it all there are still a lot of things about this place that I really like. One of them is how, after days and days of cruddy weather, you can wake up one morning, even in midwinter, and be immersed in an utterly glorious day. Such a day was today. If we thought it would last, you might even say these birds had made the wrong decision. I suspect, however, they are more sensitive than I.
By the way, another good candidate for today can be seen on my Flickr site, unused because I thought there had been too many HB scenic views and this one was more unusual. I still like it though, both are good reminders of a spectacular morning.
24 people from the neighbourhood gathered in the ex-pub over the road to eat good home-cooked food and drink wine. Call it a ‘Solstice celebration’ (for today was the shortest day of the year), or a pre-Christmas get-together; it doesn’t matter, the good food and the good emotions remain either way. This is Christmas, for me: forget the presents, the best thing about it is the excuse it offers to push the boat out a little further and indulge in some really excellent eating for a few days. Tonight’s meal was great, and I didn’t have to lift a finger.
A week off work, but I’m at home. When this happens I tend to cook. I like doing it and I like the results, which also tend to go down well with others. I don’t have to do Christmas dinner this year, so let’s get the time in now.
That I was sat on my bed watching Taxi Driver at 1.30pm is sign enough. That I decided this picture best encapsulated the day says more still. Well, I’m on vacation. I had a huge supermarket run later and made a bloody good dinner, if it makes you feel any better.
Is Scorsese’s 5 minutes in this movie the best director’s cameo of all time, or what? “You see that woman at the window? That’s my wife. But that’s not my apartment…. You know who lives there….?”
