This afternoon something about the look of Geri on the other side of the pub made me think ‘white witch’ — which (witch?) is of course a compliment, white witches are the good guys. It was mostly the hair, I think.
There is little point staying in on a Saturday, particularly not when the weather continues to be very pleasant. But with Hebden Bridge itself a magnet for day trippers I’d rather go somewhere else. Atherton, near Wigan, is accessible from home on a direct train — that’ll do. And they seem rather proud of local lass Keely Hodgkinson, winner of Olympic gold in Paris (800m), but why not be?
Half an hour into the Yorkshire Amateur League Cup Final in Bradford (well, how do you spend pleasant, sunny Friday evenings towards the end of a season?) and Berry Brow’s no. 11, Kyle Walton, dinks the ball over the Ryburn Utd keeper for a 1-0 lead. Having spotted my camera, this was his chosen means of celebration. And it was kind of amusing, so I’ll let him off the need to wipe the lens clean afterwards. They went on to win 2-0. (Clare insisted I use this picture today, and who am I to argue.)
The wife, who apparently has been waiting to see this version of Swan Lake (you know, the one with the male swans) for 20 years, asked me out on a date for this one, and it was like, why not. It thereby becomes the fourth ballet that I have witnessed. The first was decades ago, the other two have been depicted on here: these guys in Moscow should count, and this cameraman was definitely about to film one.
And my review: yes, it was pretty good, it definitely had a sense of humour (which for the other ballets I mention, was not in evidence). I was keeping up with it all until about 40 minutes in, when the swans arrived. After that I kind of lost the plot a bit. But there were plenty of people on the stage who could dance very well and looked very good whilst they did so. There you go, that’s my review of Drew’s Ballet Experience #4.
Never even got close to leaving the house today. The living room was mostly out of bounds, thanks to deliveries of stuff in cardboard boxes that has just kept on coming over the last few days, and some of it isn’t even ours. If Kevin from Morpeth is wondering where his box of chocolate bars is, we’ve got it, it’s one of those in the picture.
My last scheduled day of on-campus teaching in this academic year. Very few turned up, but that’s OK, it was an optional class. Hopefully they are all off in studious contemplation somewhere, like she seems to be: although quite probably she’s just checking social media while she has her fag.
I pick this one today because I think it’s a nice portrait, though I don’t know these gentlemen and so can’t be sure it captures some kind of essential quality about them. But I see a lot of football these days — the game mentioned in the post title was my 80th of the season and I intend to do a few more yet before it’s over — and I see a lot of people like these, as we’re all in it together.
“If I stare at him in the right way, perhaps some of the food will leap off the plate.” It didn’t work though, Milo. I’m immune. (Well, maybe I gave him a bit later on.)
Rotherham, South Yorkshire, is one of those places where a high proportion of its casual visitors surely come because it has a League football team and for no other reason. This is not to knock the place. I did have a decent day out here today (at the football) and it certainly has a big and impressive church, as depicted.
This shot breaks plenty of rules, including being taken from inside the café over the road, and my leaving in the lights that surrounded its window. But the woman in the red coat helps. And anyway, I don’t care about the formalities because today I have stretched this blog out far enough to reach day 5,000. 13 years, 8 months and 7 days of daily photography has brought me to this point. I suppose I occasionally think about winding it all up but it hasn’t happened yet, there always seems to be something coming up which encourages me to continue, whether it’s an interesting trip away, or a numerical target like today’s. The next one should be that I ensure I make it to my birthday this year: because on the day I turn 56, I will have documented exactly one-quarter of my life on here. Seems a reasonable (next) goal to me…
Going on the number of plumlings that currently festoon the tree, I predict that come around late July, the whole thing is going to fall over. Should it stay standing, even 2023’s glut (forty-four pounds of fruit) may be surpassed.
Hello, it’s day 4,999. I’d better not forget to get the camera out at some point tomorrow.
Being 42 