This little cutie was clearly taking its first steps into the world of modelling. “Should I run and hide? Should I move in for the purr and rub? Or should I just pose?” Do the latter, that’s just fine.
I’ve lived within a few yards of this door for twenty-one years and have absolutely no idea what is behind it. It seems to simply go into nothing: on the other side, so far as one can tell, there is merely a large clump of undergrowth. I genuinely feel that this might be a portal into another dimension. Or perhaps a secret MI6 rendition chamber. (But probably it’s just an old coal cellar.)
These cards all reside in the foyer of RTQ, the tutoring service from whom Clare rents her room, which we have both been using as something of an escape during lockdown. Thank you indeed. But hey, can we leave home, legally, after Monday? There are rumours.
It’s nice that after nearly a decade and a half working in Manchester that I can still discover some new places. This was one: I just fancied a cup of tea at this point, and surely an establishment named like this can deliver? It certainly could. Inside had to be seen to be believed as well, but I couldn’t just snap away at the customers; the profusion of flowers in the porch does give something of the right impression, however.
I have to write. I basically barricaded myself in the house to do so, even if only symbolically. These are the tough assignments: days in the house, working, grey and dull weather, and not even any family members around to pose for portraits. So here is the barricade, either a messy abstract of a shot or an interesting bunch of textures. What’s going on with the floor exactly, I don’t know, but that’s my house for you.
The second door in two days. This one not as helpful as it first appears. The irony is obvious if you read the sign. Dedicated to my friend Doug, who collects this kind of thing.
There was never going to be a great deal of excitement about today’s picture, I can assure you. Still, I get out and about more as of tomorrow. In the mean time let’s enjoy some nice afternoon light while we can — tomorrow’s weather forecast looks pretty cruddy.
If the security bolt on our front door is still drawn, it means neither Clare, Joe nor I have left the house since we got up. If it’s still drawn at 4pm, you can guess what kind of day it has been. But I did work. Seventh picture in a row from Hebden Bridge, four of which have been taken in or from my house, although these limited horizons expand a little over the weekend.
Second of five days in a row where I guarantee I am not going beyond the home — pub — shop axis. Time to dig into some creative corners; I’ve had my eye on this door for a while.
The last few days’ photos have come out late because my Mac broke on Friday, although it is better now (thanks to the tender attentions of its progenitors, the Apple Store). But that was only the first major breakage of the day — this beauty (our front door) kept us in most of the afternoon until the locksmith came round. That key shouldn’t be stuck at that angle, believe me.
Being 42 