Tuesday 19th August 2025, 8.40pm (day 5,108)
Can hexagons be made to fit into squares? Clare is certainly hoping so. I believe it’s a crochet thing.
Laptop design work
Being 42
Life, one day at a time
Tag Archives: legs
Bredbury station
Monday 16th September 2024, 9.45pm (day 4,771)
Am I pleased allowed to say someone is a nice shape, without this being a salacious observation? Because this person definitely is.
With this photo, Stockport, the 11th place I depicted on this blog back in October 2011, finally relinquishes its title as the most-ignored-place-since. The accolade now passes to Dunsop Bridge. I know you care about these things, as do I. Overall, 477 different locations have appeared on here — a neat near 1/10 ratio — and I’m sure you already care about the carefully-maintaned stats.
Two-tone
Friday 19th July 2024, 5.00pm (day 4,712)
The sun comes out, and with it, various bits of English skin that have not had much opportunity for solar exposure in recent months. And it shows. Clare, who has never been one for tanning much, decides to display possibly the whitest legs in Europe as we enjoy an end-of-week beer or three. They’ve some catching up to do on the arms, for sure.
Exhortation
Monday 4th September 2023, 9.55am (day 4,393)
As made by this board outside Walthamstow Central station this morning. And thanks to ‘good service’ on the tube, Grand Central trains and….. er, OK, Northern (just about) — it was blessed enough. Blessed with very fine weather, at least.
Waiting for “Oppenheimer”
Sunday 13th August 2023, 7.20pm (day 4,371)
Clare, on the right, has her membership card ready for action. The movie, as the title of the post indicates, was Oppenheimer: which is a decent movie, I’ll acknowledge that, but I’ve stopped thinking that any film needs to be three hours long. (Though these three hours were definitely better than the three hours of my life that Beau is Afraid is never giving back.)
Lonely shoe, King’s Cross
Monday 24th October 2022, 10.05am (day 4,078)
The latest in an occasional series on this blog — Abandoned Shoes, n+1. (A previous episode is here, for example.) As this one is waiting at the top of the subway that leads down and into King’s Cross station, perhaps it’s just trying to get home. I am reminded of a joke from an early series of Red Dwarf about “shoes having souls”.
Pontefract Collieries FC
Thursday 29th September 2022, 6.35pm (day 4,053)
This afternoon I paid a first-ever visit to the town of Pontefract, which has a significant amount of history, as is first of all indicated by its name of almost pure Latin — pontus fractus means ‘broken bridge’. Its castle was once the second-largest in the country and in its dungeon, King Richard II was starved to death in 1400.
But while I did take pictures of some of this history, in the end I am going with the surreal sight of these mannequin’s legs at the local footie ground. The absurdity of life and its trivia, and all that.
Pall Mall, Friday afternoon
Friday 16th September 2022, 2.35pm (day 4,040)
I would not normally go into Manchester as late as this, particularly not on a Friday. But my employers said in order to get my new hardware, hard-wired, I needed to pay homage at the Desk of Service. In person. So be it — I ultimately cared as little as the owner of these legs.
Check-in line
Monday 15th April 2019, 1.00pm (day 2,790)
So begins the long journey home. Allowing for the time difference, some 28 hours elapsed door to door, between leaving the office in Melbourne city centre at about noon (Eastern Australian time) on Monday and getting back home on what was Tuesday morning UK time, but felt like late afternoon to the body clock. This first shot of two was taken only an hour or so into it all. There is a strange levitaty quality about the bag, don’t you think?
Abandoned shoe
Saturday 8th December 2018, 11.45am (day 2,662)
Another abandoned shoe, presumably its owner had a particularly good Friday night. Like with the bins yesterday, I accept in this shot another usual spoiler of composition — the lamp-post — because here it works perfectly.
Being 42 