Passengers in various states of thought and repose, as the train pulled into Rochdale on the way into work. Or, I suspect for the guy immediately opposite me, home after a rather heavy night.
So precisely has my reflection been split by this bevelled mirror (in Frew’s Bar, Dundee) that the sprouting of hair above my ear appears on the lower part. I like this cubist homage as it was an occasion where the shot I sought was precisely achieved.
Our 23rd wedding anniversary. I took Clare to a non-league football match and she took me to see Paloma Faith. I have no idea who got the better of the transaction. Photography opportunities were better at the gig, even if musically this is not my thing. A couple of thousand other people seemed happy enough with it all, though.
I did very little else other than enjoy some sunshine on this Saturday afternoon; and I was not the only one.
During this week at the London Rare Books School I have felt privileged to be taught by Professor Michelle Brown, second from the left here. What an awesome fund of knowledge she has, seemingly knowing absolutely everything that happened to everyone before about 1500 AD. Like being taught physics by Richard Fenynman, and the sort of experience that you just ain’t gonna get through Zoom, sorry.
The English summer weekend. We cook and eat our food outside despite it only being about 13ºC. And there is some obligation for middle-age men to be the ones cooking it: Pete (brother-in-law) started it off, but I braved the flames (below centre) to do the last quarter, or so.
Friday, at the end of a busy week, and the sun was out. I make no apologies for heading for the pub. Others thought the same, as depicted in my camera, and in Mark’s sunglasses.
The Beyer Building‘s exterior has featured before. It was constructed in 1887, meaning this lecture theatre basically reflects assumptions about pedagogy from 135 years ago. And it looks pretty much the same as lecture theatres still do, only with many fewer plug sockets. Alex awaits my talk at 9:30; there were a few other people in the room by the time I started (honestly).
Clare was clearing out a drawer this afternoon, one of those corners in which obscure things gather, to re-emerge after many years. Like this small red pouch which, it turned out, contained this collection of Joe’s baby teeth — the tooth fairy came, and transferred her bounty to this place, it seems. It serves to purpose to keep them, but I totally understand why they’ve not been disposed of.
At the moment it’s a case of — do I sit at home all day working, or trug into Manchester and sit in my office all day? Well, at least going into Manchester gets me a bit more exercise. There always seems to be at least one person smoking outside this building on Booth Street in the city centre, no matter how early I pass by.
Being 42 