Wednesday 17th December 2014, 8.30am (day 1,210)
A dull December day in both senses, spent working at home, so little to photograph. It’s about time Maskill’s got on here anyway; a fine butcher’s shop, which supplies meat from its own farm down the road at reasonable prices. Remember, the moronocrats would rather places like this didn’t exist and we all shopped with Sainsbury’s. That’s why they’re called the moronocracy.
This shot’s not that technically great but I like it because of the two shadowy figures, however it’s also a sign of how dark it remains now until well past 8.30 each morning. Depressing.
Being 42 