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.
Thursday market manoeuvers. “I know it’s in here somewhere — I just have to move a few things around to find it…”
I have had a lot of travelling recently but I have already embarked on a sustained period — four weeks, anyway — of Being At Home. Hence… a view from home. There may be more of these coming up.
According to the advertising for this stall on Hebden Bridge’s Friday market, Norwegian socks are the best in the world. Who am I to argue? It does get pretty cold and wet in Norway. Anyway, if you want them, you now know where to come and get them (outside Norway).
This is one of those shots where I have deliberately not even tried with the aesthetics and gone purely for personal meaning. Anyone who knows me properly knows that for many years now, to know me has to been to know my coat. The earliest photo of me wearing it that I can find comes from February 2010 – so 18 months before this blog even started — and that means I have been wearing it for at least 14½ winters. And it is honestly true that I paid £10 for it from a charity shop in Hebden Bridge, probably in late 2009. Now that’s good value. That’s a quarter of my life it has served, for a tenner. As for appearances on here — here’s one, for example. I think that this shot in Domodedovo airport, Moscow (at 4:50am on 11/12/2011) is its earliest appearance on the blog, albeit unclearly.
However, it is now completely knackered, particularly the inner lining (see for yourself, on this shot). I am retiring it with full honours. You will probably never see it again…. And its replacement? Another long, navy blue coat … But hey. Why change style this late in life? The new one is woolier though.
No particular point being made with this one, I just think it is a nice portrait. Sometimes C and I try to stop ourselves going out in co-ordinated gear but with these two you get the feeling the choices are carefully made.
There’s a lot that could be said about Britain’s currently-mandated festivities, but I can’t be bothered. I spent the day finishing off my marking. To note the occasion, here’s some commercialised art, originally from 1977.
What these socks of hers say about Clare I am not quite sure, but hey, we’re still married after 22 years (nearly). So tacitly, I guess I approve. (The text on the one on the left starts: “Being an adult is…”; the rest you can work out for yourselves.)
The last time I was on campus was the 8th March (and it was deserted then, although that was because it was a Sunday). Since then, all work has been done at home, and the shirts I would wear to scrub up a bit in Manchester have gone unworn. Dry cleaning is another business that I assume has been deemed ‘non-essential’ at this time.
Tomorrow — or today as I post, that is, 4th March — is Joe’s 16th birthday, so it’s about time he made a reappearance here as it’s been nearly four months (12th November) since he featured. As one of his birthday gifts today we bought him a new suit, as it’s getting to that point in life where some form of occasional sartorial elegance will do one no harm. Eventual choice not pictured here, but he does look dapper in it. I know I would say that, of course.
Being 42 