This is definitely a coven of like-minded females, and they’re plotting something. But I’m confident that they’re of the white persuasion, somehow. It’s the hair that gives away their shared allegiance.
Another train shot, though this is a portrait of a person rather than a locomotive. Somehow yesterday’s loco just seemed much happier to be where it was. Then again, I sympathise: when is 7am on a Tuesday morning in February a time of vim and vigour?
OK, it’s a picture taken at the football again but it’s not of the football, this is a portrait of the gentleman on the right. With his shirt and tie, shooting stick, bag filled with something mysterious and impressive head of white hair, I guess I sort of aspire to be him in, say, twenty-five more years. Will this blog still be going in 2047? Will I? We don’t know either way, and I suppose that’s the point of life.
Half-time in yet another football match. An opportunity to notice that the bar manager at Brighouse Town has great hair, well lit. That’s all.
These two certainly look like they’re having a jolly time on their respective Saturday lunchtimes in Hebden Bridge. But perhaps they just feel about Halloween much the same as I do — it’s intrusive and over-the-top, and we could probably do without it.
Do I spend too much time in bars and cafés? Maybe it’s whatever Mediterranean genes I have in me. I was working, honest. This is a photowhack — the only picture I took today.
As I move inexorably towards my dotage there are increasing signs that I am basically losing it, including the fact that I had a relatively serious conversation today with a six-foot-high chicken in a Bradford City shirt. Sorry — not a chicken, officially this is a bantam. What was it/he doing at Brighouse Town FC today? Well, that’s mainly what the conversation was about.
One reason I went to Manchester yesterday was to buy a new camera. Since the pic of North Queensferry, after which the lens motor of the last one seized up permanently, I’ve been on emergency (and inadequate) backup. Three years of usage every day seems the usual lifespan of these devices at the present time. I have gone back to a more compact model — it’s just easier to carry around all the time — and until further notice what you see on here will be taken with a Canon Power Shot SX740 HS.
Here’s its debut on the blog — chosen because it was the photo taken today that most made me smile. Freedom of expression works in both directions.
A day spent between walks. Did another dose of museum instead, specifically the ‘Scottish Crannog Centre‘ on Loch Tay. A crannog, it seems, is an Iron Age dwelling built on an artificial island in the loch; there are reckoned to be many of these throughout Scotland and Ireland. This centre had a reproduction of one, until it burnt down last year — the impressive thing is that the place was still interesting and good value without it. That had a huge amount to do with the staff, including this guy, clearly the boss, but his minions earned their wages too.
My latest trip to Ewood Park, this time to see Morecambe FC (still buoyed up by their recent win at Wembley) play Blackburn Rovers in the League Cup. The stewards had plenty of visiting Morecambe fans to deal with but not, it has to be said, a great many Blackburnians. Perhaps this was because they knew the result was fated, as I was in attendance. This was my fifth visit to the ground as far as I can ascertain, and Blackburn Rovers have now lost every one of them: a 1-2 defeat to the mighty Shrimps this evening continuing the run. I won’t be back for a little while, guys, I promise.
Being 42 