Wednesday 18th October 2023, 11.00am (day 4,437)

We are all waiting for something. Perhaps….. well, I was going to say ‘death’, but in the case of this patient creature it is more likely ‘snacks’.

I could have been taking a photo of all sorts of things here in this Manchester back alley. But I’m going with the eyes in the background.

Seeing as the garden in question is on the roof of Big Hands, the micro-gig venue round the corner from my office — and no, I’ve never noticed them before — perhaps Roof Garden Dummies is to be the name of some emergent punk/student band, to be appearing (possibly) on a digital feed near you at some point in the second half of this decade. If I was in The Zone, I might consider founding them myself. But possibly Kraftwerk already did it.

No further comment to make. There are many worse places to be on a sunny (if cold) Sunday morning.

Just beyond the fence at Low Moor railway station, in Bradford, are stored these bizarre sculptures, or possibly they are some kind of carnival float. I really have no idea what story these make together, though. A close-up was no more revealing, so let’s go with this long shot under stormy skies instead.

A Friday night out, for me and for them. And why not spend it at a football match. It was damn cold though: as 5ºC seemed a reasonable estimation I’d say it was about 15ºC cooler than my last one, on Sunday. We all needed some warm food.

The third protest in a month, if we count the poster statement. Not hard to work out the basic focus of this one. I was just passing, not expressing a particular opinion, but I do notice that in BBC reports of the atrocities presently unfolding in the Middle East, Israelis ‘are killed’ whereas Palestinians just ‘die’. As much as anything else that helps explain why some people are pissed off.

No one seems able to leave any empty Manchester space empty for long. Cathedral Gardens is particularly prone to being built on by some temporary structure or other, if it’s not the ‘Davis Cup Fan Zone’ (that was last month) it’s whatever this twelve-hi-vis operation might become. Probably the ice rink; for after all, it’s nearly Christmas.

Another weekend in London — the third in three months — ends where they always do, namely King’s Cross station. This war memorial stands facing platforms 1-3, and has always interested me firstly because my name (Whitworth) appears on it twice, with an unseen pillar to the right of this shot commemorating Whitworth, F. and Whitworth, W. A., who as with everyone else named on here was an employee of the Great Northern Railway lost in action. I also like this just because it looks good; it was unveiled just over ten years ago, when the station was rebuilt.