The annual Blue Pig Father’s Day race at the Blue Pig pub. Build a vessel of some kind that travels on water, make it look like a blue pig, chuck it off the bridge into the river and the first one over the weir wins. Thanks to a disastrous start (I feel I had better voluntarily resign as starter of our boat next year) we finished a comfortable last. The one with the kid’s face taped on the front was the winner. What this says, I have no idea.
This is the retaining wall for Keighley Road and some thirty feet high at this point, so this foxglove is a tenacious little bugger. They’re good at getting into crevices, I have noticed: various walls sprout them at the moment like purple nose hairs. Not a romantic simile I know but what the hell.
A wholly uneventful weekend. These were not even my cocktails.
A year ago today I was in Siberia and Britain was having its latest inconclusive and pointless electoral spasm. But early June 2018 is a highly uneventful time. With a cloudy day spent working at home I came as close as I have in any of these last 2,479 days to having nothing to photograph, and that’s eventually how this blog will end: there simply will be nothing more to say. Maybe this one doesn’t say much… but it is, at least, something.
It is perhaps better not to speculate on the fate of the former owner of these spectacles, forlornly lying abandoned on Canal Street in Manchester early today… One assumes that the position of the, let’s say, splodge is coincidental. But I guess it might not be.
Bank Holiday weekend. The stalls are out to capture the tourists. Clearly we have become the Yorkshire equivalent of Nimbin, perceived as a hippy enclave. No one round here wears this. Well, OK, maybe a couple of people.
Not an eventful day, and it won’t be an eventful weekend. Rain fell for the first time in three weeks, but it was of the light, refreshing kind that the plants needed before everything begun withering away. No sitting outside the pub this evening, however.
Sat in a room all day listening to people talk, so not the most exciting day photographically. But the cathedral in Zagreb is an imposing presence so gave me something more interesting to point my camera at. Rebuilt in the late 19th century after the old one was damaged in an earthquake.
They’re very pink, but very ephemeral, the cherry blossoms. Maybe that’s why the Japanese like them so much, it matches their general aesthetic.
Who first came up with the concept of a gargoyle, I wonder? Take what is, in essence, a piece of guttering, and wrap a little monster face around it? Someone must have thought of this first, back in antiquity, and the idea caught on. This one graces the fountain in Albert Square, Manchester, and caught the light quite well on this sunny morning.
Being 42 