And there it is coming in, right on time — behind the head of the woman stood second left. A glorious day today, a perfect late summer’s day, I nearly posted something about this year’s Conservative Party Conference in Manchester, but I decided I wasn’t that angry.
I can’t be the first parent to reach the point in their life at which they suddenly realise their child will be at secondary school next year. Blimey.
Because of this we were invited to an open evening at one of the local high schools tonight. Bearing all this in mind the obvious symbolism of this shot is unfair. But I like the counterposition of the words with that bruised sky above, one of the more dramatic evenings of recent weeks.
John Owens made his fortune in the early 1800s, it seems in two ways — first through cotton trading, and secondly by “keeping no company whatsoever” and spending every evening in, reading books (according to contemporary accounts). On his death, with no children — unsurprising, with those habits — he left a substantial sum of money towards the foundation of Owens College, now a part of the University of Manchester, and also made it a condition of his will that no student nor member of the faculty in that institution would ever have to “pass a religious test” to achieve their status. He might not have been much of a party animal, but at least he had a sensible lack of zealotry along with it.
These girders have been erected over the last two weeks by the unexpectedly large object. They are the skeleton of a new extension being built below our house by the owners of the Nutclough Mill, a building you have seen several times before but which will be irrevocably changed by this project. Is this a good thing? Ask us when it’s finished.
…so not everyone is yet completely sure where they should be going for their 10:00 lecture. The girl with the umbrella was intently studying the campus map this morning.
In total contrast to most of the week which preceded it, today was a glorious day. Who knows, perhaps the last burst of genuine summer this year. The light made even this neglected, graffiti-tagged fire escape at the back of the gym look sort of romantic.
Just a random scene passed on the way to somewhere else. Not something I was doing — I don’t own a car. Which means I don’t have to wash it. Or put petrol in it. Or pay tax on it. Et cetera.
I like the mistiness of this shot caused by the high-pressure jet. Also that this guy seems to manage to still look quite cool even in wellington boots.
Extraordinary harvest of fruit this year. I swear we have had 14kg, or around 30lbs, of plums off this one tree in our garden this year. At one point a huge branch broke off it purely because of the weight of the fruit, and the branch you see here is being artificially propped up to ensure it does not share the same fate.
‘”Nice weather for ducks”, they said. “Come to sunny Yorkshire”, they said. Well, this sucks. And all my friends have buggered off to Spain this morning without me.’
This marquee sits outside my building at uni, where thousands of people currently wander around looking half-lost and half-excited. Whatever was going on in here yesterday, though, it’s moved on, though no one has yet thought to clear up the balloons.
