The hat with the Scroogey message has been hanging around the house for years, having been acquired from I-Don’t-Remember-Where. Here it is added to a pile of gear C was intending to wear to the first in a run of her Christmas parties. Her excuse could be that it’s the only suitable headgear in the house, but that, in itself, says a lot about why it still sees use.
Really, not an exciting Christmas Day, but are they ever, these days? A pleasant one though, and mild, so Clare and Joe were dragged out on the usual pre-consumption walk, where was captured this piece of hogweed in front of the pine (Christmas) trees, simply because I like the shape it makes. A natural candelabrum, maybe.
Anyway — a happy Christmas to you all, I hope you enjoyed the day, however it was spent.
It is still September. It is still the first half of September. But the Gospel Oak pub, in Tipton, West Midlands, cares nothing for such pedantries. Here, it is Christmas already, so they can advertise their seasonal ‘wear a shite jumper’ dinners (starting November 11th, if you’re interested). There is something deeply depressing about this.
Prof. Alexander’s bust has long graced the entrance hall of the building on Manchester’s campus that bears his name. This kind of thing happens most years, to be honest. He seems to bear it with stoic dignity. I don’t think he looks all that unhappy — a bit resigned, maybe.
Cheesus being the name of one of the many eateries-stroke-café-cum-bars that are now, by law, the only kind of retail establishment allowed to open in Hebden Bridge. It served a fine grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, and why not a Christ reference today — it is his birthday celebration tomorrow, after all. Enjoy tomorrow, however you intend to spend it.
At least I live in a town that still sustains not just one, but two proper butchers’ shops. These guys must make their entire annual profit at this time of year; I know in advance what it will be like when I go to collect my bird two days before Christmas. (Never a turkey, which is a meat I have never found all that appealing, to be honest.) There is no advertising intention to this blog, so can I also point out that despite depicting one of the establishments here, I actually ordered my meat from the other shop.
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.
In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s coming up to Christmas. Manchester city centre gets frantic at this time of year and in recent times I have done my best to avoid it: in fact I only have one more day there scheduled for 2022. The proprietors of this posh store on Spring Gardens (where all the stores are posh: next door is Vivienne Westwood) go for it every year to this extent; this year there’s the added layer of statement, that energy bills are just something other people have to worry about. But it does look pretty: even with the back of a ‘No Entry’ sign in the way.
Let’s push that Christmas theme a little further. There we are to top right, and I think this is the first time all three of us have appeared on the same featured shot. Here we await a lunch out, that was terrible and overpriced, so I will forebear from mentioning the name of the pub.
Out on the path through the woods above the Hebden Water, someone has been dressing the trees, guerrilla-style. Happy Christmas to them, and, indeed, to you. I hope you enjoyed the day in whatever way you saw most fit. But that is, of course, true of every day.
Being 42 