I am writing. For all that it is still warm and sunny outside, the bedroom gets too warm in the evening if the curtains are left open on days like this. The outside world must be closed off, at least for today.
Most of my previous cameras have died more-or-less instaneously, but the present one is going more for the long, slow death. It stops working — the zoom lens, always that — but if I leave it overnight it seems able to drag itself into some kind of action again the next day, at least so far. (A bit like its owner, at the moment.) It was just after lunch today when I checked its status and it did, indeed, revive once more. At this point in time Clare was standing as you see her and so this is a technical test as much as anything else. But, still, the best photo taken today. C hasn’t been seen on the blog since Halloween, so it’s about time she returned.
A senior professorial colleague once said: “you’re a Reader. Do some fucking reading.” He was right. And there’s no reason why I need to prematurely leap out of bed to do it.
This week Clare has also been away, and remains there until the weekend. Back home I did nothing other than work at home and was close to having to put up something lousy on here, until later on, I looked over to the wife’s empty side of the bed and saw Frida Kahlo looking at me. Well, sort of.
There won’t be much excitement or variety in my life in the run-up to Christmas — but nor do I really care about this. In the undertaking of her annual task (for which I internally thank her) of sorting out our Christmas cards, Clare makes another step towards catching up Joe in the ‘all-time appearance record’ on this blog; this is her 140th pic, with Joe presently on 146. Another shot with daringly off-vertical verticals, but then again I was still in bed too.
This blog isn’t here for advertising purposes but I can’t avoid a free plug for the magnificent Eagle Mill B & B in St Ives, Cambridgeshire. Everything about it was fine, but having a bath placed on a pedastal, open to the rest of the bedroom, was the crowning touch. Excuse, therefore, the gratuitous bath shot, but why not?
The end of incarceration is in sight, although that’s just as well, as I’m really starting to get tired of this situation now. There is a mosquito net installed over my bed here, and I am using it, but I haven’t actually seen any mosquitoes — possibly there was one that drifted by, last week. Otherwise it’s purely cosmetic. And if you think that might be a metaphor for other things, well, help yourself.
There remains a Joe-shaped hole in the house at the moment. But perhaps this shot, taken on a rare foray into his unoccupied room, is evidence that we didn’t pack him off to Dundee after all. Although decomposition has set in pretty fast, if that is indeed the case.
Spent part of the day in Manchester but there was little to be seen there. I prefer this enigmatic shot for today, which I feel not at all like explaining….
Well, today was a photographic challenge — because since shortly after taking yesterday’s shot I have been feeling ill and spent almost the whole of today in bed. This burst of sunlight onto the back of the bedroom door is therefore the best you get today. You may yet get the same tomorrow. And why does the door have two handles? A legacy of when this was Joe’s room and he was still just a toddler.
Being 42 