Dina was last seen in Toronto in October 2021 and, as part of a project which has been (so far) a wholly positive development but with which I won’t bore you here, has been visiting Manchester this week. Other than myself, Clare and Joe this makes her only the second person to appear on this blog in two different countries and the first on two different continents.
After eleven different places in eleven days it’s time to spend some time at home again. I’m still not back to work though: that can wait another week or so. Stan generally agrees with this approach to life, I feel.
The Who should have already appeared on this blog one way or another. I had tickets to see them in Manchester a few years ago and then couldn’t go for reasons I don’t even remember properly. In March 2020 we were one week, literally, away from seeing them in Leeds (Live in Leeds!) when Bojo The Clown decided that the rest of the country (but not him) had to cease all this entertainment rubbish — postponed a year, that gig was eventually cancelled too. BUT — here we are, finally, in Edinburgh Castle, watching Daltrey and Townshend do their thing. At 79 years old, Roger Daltrey understandably doesn’t leap about the stage as much as he used to but he can definitely still sing, and right at this point he is reproducing one of the best screams in rock history — the one near the end of Won’t Get Fooled Again, which is up there in my ‘top 5’ all-time great tracks.
So yes…. all in all it could be said that I had a good evening.
Where better to end a pleasant weekend than at the Railway’s Sunday afternoon karaoke? Well, OK, perhaps there are several places that are actually better, particularly when Rockin’ Rupert (that’s what he calls himself: it’s written on his hat) turns up, a man for whom the notions of melody, timing and key are just things other people worry about. But he brings props, one of which came out for this rendition of (it seemed to be) Singin’ in the Rain — get it?
With 17 of its photos taken in Hebden Bridge, plus one a mile down the road in Mytholmroyd, and then seven more in Manchester: June 2023 has not been an eventful month. Only the trip to the Lake District got me out anywhere in particular. I could embrace the local and familiar of course, but in truth it’s pretty boring at the moment. Anyway, July will be different, at least after the first week. In the meantime, here’s Maggie’s hair, which I do think is quite cool. And I like the way this shot has come out, like it might be a pastel drawing perhaps.
Another less-than-exciting week ends with a photograph of similar sort. Life is scheduled to liven up in July but in the meantime, here we still are, Hebden Bridge on a quiet Friday post-work afternoon. Going monochrome helps the interest level a little, perhaps.
I wasn’t participating, just documenting. And out celebrating having finished the end of the latest bout of marking.
No comments to add to this one. Just a portrait of a friend.
Another photo of a pack member — in a sense. Mark is one of the colleagues with whom I work most closely. We were recording a podcast this morning, hence the microphone.
This amount of light, sunshine and relative warmth at 5pm are definite signs of spring. The equinox is past us, the nights are only getting longer. Not that Gus looks all that happy about it.
Being 42 