Apples, rhubarb, blackberries, a leek (the leeks have done magnificently this year), kale, lettuce and I think there’s a blueberry in there somewhere. Not bad for half an hour up at the allotment. And, you know, a few months of work, mostly by Nature.
Travelling abroad may be curtailed at the moment but there’s still plenty of my own country I haven’t seen and going to football matches on Saturday afternoons is, as far as I am concerned, as good a way to see it as any. The village of Steeton, near Keighley, provides a picturesque backdrop to the warm-up exercises of the visiting Avro FC. I like the contrasting colours and the impressive house that pops up above the trees at the top.
A foul day of almost constant rain, on which even the ducks were taking shelter, unconducive to any great inspiration. The only saving grace was that it was a Friday, and the forecast is better for the weekend to come.
Ssshhhh…. I’m recording. It was an excuse to get onto campus, anyway. This is only the fifth Manchester picture since the 10th March, 170 days ago.
“But how shall I know the day of my birth in future years, O Holy Seer of Signs?”
“Drew, stand beside the river and look for the day on which the sun sets between the two pillars. Thus shall you know it.”
I’m 51 today. This is now the tenth year of the blog. And life goes on, one day at a time.
It’s my birthday tomorrow, meaning today’s post marks the end of a ninth complete year of this blog. Am I feeling morbid? Not particularly, I just thought this grave (in Bunhill Fields, London) was kinda cute actually. The hair is getting greyer but I am still an old Goth at heart.
The slightly overblown title of this post is not mine. As explained on a notice board beneath this tree, ‘Spontaneous City has been designed for the Tree of Heaven in Duncan Terrace Gardens [in London]… The design of the bird boxes is inspired by the architecture of the Georgian houses and 1960s flats that surround Duncan Terrace.’ So there you have it. I didn’t see any birds using this bijou residency, but maybe they can’t afford the rent on an Islington property.
I have been thinking about this, and have decided to declare this the one and only positive outcome of lockdown –‘this’ being the emergence of a UK pavement café culture. We don’t necessarily have the weather for it, but hey, pubs and restaurants can invest in some umbrellas, as they do elsewhere. On sunny afternoons like this one, it doesn’t matter, and we can give it a shot.
I see little prospect of my leaving the UK for the rest of 2020, to be honest. But luckily, this is a diverse and beautiful island, and there are plenty of bits of it that I have not seen yet. Up until today, that included the Hope Valley, which heads into the Pennines west of Sheffield, and can be reached on a train from there or Manchester. I rectified this omission today, and had a grief-free and pleasant day out there, and a dry one, despite the showers which seemed to be affecting everywhere else in the north today. I hope the couple pictured here enjoyed it too.
A reason we went away this week in particular was that our bathroom was being redecorated so it was advisable to be out of the house. This job was ably undertaken by Catherine, pictured here in the process of grouting our newly tiled floor, and her assistant Simon. All is now back in use and looking much better, so thanks (and money) are due to them both.
Being 42 