Second consecutive shot taken at the outdoor market, but hey. The guy on the DVD and CD stall takes a casual attitude towards his merchandise. One can either rule the world by wearing the shoes… or, presumably, get hints by watching the various Marvel movies which all seem to be based around much the same theme.
God, more of this crud. 2023 has not so far had vintage weather. But in a week’s time, I will be in the Southern Hemisphere, and whatever else goes on there, I’m damn sure the weather will be a lot warmer, and a lot lighter.
Made use of a facility that I haven’t accessed since December 9th, namely Manchester Victoria station. It’s not a bad place — when it works — and certainly way better than it was when I first started using it regularly in 2005, when it was still largely a hole in the ground.
But in all honesty, this is a picture of her trousers, which I think are excellent, particularly the shape they make.
After a spell of wide-ranging vistas and skies, all I saw today was this room, reclaimed from Joe now he has returned to Scotland. The implements of a day’s work are all in place. And my hair did need a brush. Outside, just more rain, anyhow.
Took a different road home, at least between Edinburgh and Carlisle, and was rewarded with many magnificent landscapes, particularly with the mix of sun and cloud that characterised the day. Not that there were always places to stop the car and take advantage. Had I been able to stop on the Forth Bridge, I might have been able to capture the photo of the year (OK, I know it’s early in the year): sun rising behind the other two bridges, wreathed in mist etc. But this one will do, taken from the point at which the A701 starts its drop down into Annandale and the town of Moffat.
It was a nice sunny morning in Dundee, some 20 miles, as the crow flies, from where this picture was taken. I was not the only walker lulled into a false sense of weather security as a result. The damp splodges on this shot are unfortunate but, really, unavoidable. Anyway — here we all are on West Lomond, the highest point in the county (and ancient kingdom) of Fife. In the background, East Lomond, which I may haul myself up one of these days — but in better weather, I can assure you. (For more detail feel free to consult my County Tops blog.)
A bit of a cheap shot perhaps, but when one spends most of the day on a motorway, there aren’t always many opportunities. This does give a reasonable impression of the weather conditions in which the drive was done. Abington has become a ‘service station of choice’, purely because of timing: by the time we reach there, somewhere in the wilds of South Lanarkshire, there always seems to be the need for a drink, or lunch, or a pee. Sometimes all three.
There is just such a look of contentment on the face of this sheep, as it has a rest from its communal troughing. I guess with all those fleeces on each side it must be pretty warm and stuffy down there; no wonder they were all taking breathers now and again.
There really isn’t anything happening at the moment; and not a great deal to be done about this, until the weekend anyway. In the pub, our landlady feels the need to retract a statement presumably made over the Christmas period. The grammar is not mine, no complaints please.
Radiohead had a track on the Hail to the Thief album that basically screamed, ‘The raindrops!’ for a few minutes. I know the feeling. Train strikes don’t help either: there was no reason nor encouragement to leave the house today.
Taken at the same time as yesterday’s shot — and only five minutes after Monday’s. This is as near as I have ever got in 11 years to three consecutive shots at the same time of day. I swear I don’t do these things deliberately, even in the most boring periods.
Being 42 