We have yet to put our clocks back, and so the level of darkness in Manchester this Friday morning is somewhat boosted by the extra hour, but even after this weekend things will catch up soon enough and this will be a common enough sight for me in the run up to Christmas. For now, Halloween tat is in charge. The spectral yellow blobs to centre right may or may not be evidence of spiritual involvement.
The latest in an occasional series on this blog — Abandoned Shoes, n+1. (A previous episode is here, for example.) As this one is waiting at the top of the subway that leads down and into King’s Cross station, perhaps it’s just trying to get home. I am reminded of a joke from an early series of Red Dwarf about “shoes having souls”.
There aren’t many British cities where I’ve never set foot, but until tonight, Southampton was one of them. Boarding port of the Titanic and still one of the UK’s major ports, though still probably not as significant as Portsmouth nearby, which may rile Sotonians, but I am ignorant of the details of the local rivalries. This is the smallest picture, in kilomegabytes, to be uploaded for a couple of years.
Two mornings in a row on campus. Well, I should put in a bit of effort now and again. Not that many other people were doing so today. The solitary, distant figure on the left is the only one to make it into this shot.
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?
I recall a time when I imposed a block on further pictures of building sites in Manchester, but needs must. The Town Hall is still undergoing its years-long renovation — first pictured back in January 2018, for heaven’s sake. On this picture, no endorsement is intended: other weather defence options are available. I presume.
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.
As with most of the rest of Europe, we haven’t had a great deal of rain in 2022, but it certainly came down today. Time to check the drainage…
Being 42 