Damp, and packing up early. So much of 2026 thus far has been dull and drizzly weather — nothing poor, not in West Yorkshire anyway: other places have had snow, or storms, but not us. We have just remained clamped under the same grey clouds for weeks now.
Hello, friend. The bloody thing is that today was another wake. Too many, too fast.
Three years and four months ago, in September 2022, Mandi and I met David when he arrived in Manchester to begin work on his PhD. Today saw the culmination of that work, and his efforts, when at 4pm or so he was officially awarded the title of Dr David (or Chu-Yang) Chang. Congratulations to him — believe me, if anyone deserved it for sheer level of work, it was him. The culmination perhaps, but not the end of the relationship: we hope he’ll be around for at least a little while yet.
The Firth of Tay makes a second appearance in a row, though this time, it (rather than a train) is the focus. The tide is definitely out. Taken from the top of Dundee Law, on what has become the mandated Post-Present Christmas Day Walk, as there often isn’t a great deal else to do on the day except the eating, drinking and watching movies part — which did follow. A Happy Christmas to you, wherever you may be and however you spent it.
Joe’s first appearance since — chainsaw in hand — 4th August. It’s Christmas. It’s time to re-engage.
Re: the title. You do understand Joe is our only child, right? Just checking.
Time for the annual ‘student poster day’ where my charges are tasked with demonstrating what they might have learned over the last few weeks. Some even manage to do this: but I suppose they all try. This is happening nearly a week later than last year, and, definitively, marked my last professional engagement of 2025. As far as the University of Manchester are concerned I now do not exist until 5th January. Let there be celebrations, etc.
Far too nice a day to stay in, something that the ladybirds had also decided — there are plenty of them around at the moment, probably getting in their last greenfly before it becomes too cold and they die or hibernate or do whatever it is they do over the winter. My pint of Guinness didn’t have any hanging around on, or in, it but maybe this one was just resting on the cool plastic for a while. Is ladybird.guinness.football a ‘What3Words’ waiting to be used?
On my regular visits to London I have been walking past this statuesque chap since 2016. The sculpture is of Sir Nigel Gresley, designer of the famous Mallard locomotive, which still holds the speed record for a steam locomotive. The statue is about 7 feet high — Sir Nigel wasn’t, though. Apparently, the design was to have originally featured a duck (that is, a mallard) as well as Sir Nige, but this was left off in the end, after, and I quote the Guardian (via Wikipedia) here; “possibly the most acrimonious argument in the long, pedantic history of the railway hobbyist”.
5.15pm on day 5,115 and it’s the start of the 15th year of the blog. All of which is numerologically pleasing but has nothing to do with the shot, and the shot has nothing to do with my birthday as such. As the stormtrooper helmet was there, it got worn by Mark, at least for a short time. Tony looks on in his usual measured fashion.
Going on the visual and auditory evidence on this Friday in August, and the occupancy rates of nearby car parks, I might have been the only person to actually be present for work in the Ellen Wilkinson Building today. It was certainly a quiet one, anyway. I like the patterns on this shot, and a general feeling of monochrome calm.
Being 42 