After getting out and about yesterday, I kept closer to home today. But it’s also a nice part of the world. For once, I don’t object to the cars on this shot, which I think help give it a sense of scale and perspective.
Tried to get on a train today to go somewhere other than home, but when it turned up 20 minutes late and dangerously overcrowded, I remembered, only then, that Manchester United were at home (not to mention Leeds and Liverpool), and the hourly Sunday service was really not up to the job. I therefore returned home: but there were things to see on Calder Holmes Park that were just as interesting as what I might have encountered elsewhere. So the bad planning (mine, and the train company’s) didn’t matter in the end.
As I post this on Saturday, I already know that both Thursday and Friday were highly uneventful, even by recent standards. Changes to this state of lethargy are afoot, but not this week. In fact the most exciting thing to happen lately was the erection of scaffolding around our house, meaning you can climb up to have a look in our windows if you like; though we’d rather you didn’t. It’s not even for work we need doing: we are just passively wrapped in metal for a few days. That’s scaffolding two days in a row, isn’t it?
It’s not a metaphor, honestly. I was going no further than the supermarket. But this message is a new addition to the neigbourhood.
I have been looking at this sign for some months now, but only today really understood the implications. I’ve seen dog ice cream for sale, and in the Arndale centre in Manchester there is now a whole stall selling little doggy cakes and pastries. But dog karaoke? Methinks we are starting to pamper our little pooches just that little bit too much. Although I doubt the singing would be appreciably worse.
A fairly standard ‘tourist’ shot of my home town, but what the hell, it was a nice day and it does look good from this particular angle. I nearly took it monochrome, but that meant the two figures on the bridge became very camouflaged, and I think they set it off nicely.
Welcome back to the Hebden Bridge Handmade Parade, which graced this blog on an annual basis before being cancelled in 2020 and 2021: one might say, ‘understandably’, at least for 2020, although I would disagree. But let’s move on from that and enjoy the present incarnation: shifted to September, seemingly smaller, but still with plenty of percussion. I like the way this shot captures the drummers concentrating both on their instruments and on the ‘conductor’ walking in front of them — as any good orchestra should. ‘Drum Machine’ is the name of this troupe, by the way.
And from the evening, to the morning — not having moved very far. These houses constitute home; although I have neatly covered up our own windows with a tree trunk.
An abstract, but appropriate metaphor for life today. The signature on the glass says John Smith but the product is different. And, no, it’s not all the same in the end.
A holiday weekend — no work tomorrow! (Unless of course you work in one of the many professions in which this idea of a mandated holiday is just a pipe dream.) But it was an excuse to go out and enjoy company and dress in silly yellow hats, if that’s your bag.
Being 42 