And so ends February 2023, a varied month for me, some very interesting periods and some deadly dull ones. Photographically, it ends in a pub on Stoke-on-Trent station, mainly for lighting reasons. Though the beer was quite good too.
“I know I present as red. But inside there’s that little bit of green that’s always been on the verge of coming out.”
Norway remains third in the ranks of most-depicted country on this blog, behind only England and Australia, but it’s a while since I’ve been there — four years and ten months in fact (26/4/2018 was its last appearance). I should rectify this. In the meantime, it seems as if Norway is willing to come to Hebden Bridge: why this flag was planted in the square amongst the usual Sunday crowd of visitors, I do not know, but there it is.
On Lincoln’s only previous appearance on this blog (10/3/20) the outside of the Cathedral was depicted: today I (and Clare, visible as a slightly blurred figure on the left) went inside. The interior is just as impressive, particularly considering this was all raised to the glory of the Almighty more than 700 years ago. As I noted on my previous post, this was the tallest building in the world in the Middle Ages, a title it held for at least 230 years. You don’t have to be particularly religious to recognise that with this place, the builders really made a statement.
I don’t know why I at first chose to point my camera at this wall (on Abingdon Street in Manchester). It was only after uploading the shot that I noticed the very evident face on the cigarette bin. Kind of spooky, in fact: an inanimate object with a secret inner life, if ever there was one.
It was about time I paid another visit to the Lake District, having missed out on most of the winter, and I was not the only person to be thinking that it was too nice a day to stay indoors. The walkers stand on Knott Rigg, a fairly inconsequential lump that becomes the 306th Wainwright bagged on my second round, so I have 24 to go. In the background, Red Pike.
I notice that this blog, which was started on my 42nd birthday — hence the name — has now reached day 4,200. I am sure that I will think of some way of marking 6th April, which I calculate will be day 4,242.
Life at the moment is having its uneventful spells, and this is the middle of one of them. But at least the immediate locality continues to provide sufficient photo opportunities.
Ignoring the currently redundant mug and bowl, we have: sugar; syrup; lemons; and wine. The pancakes are on the way — after that, nothing else is required for a while.
Almost every time I am on campus I pass by the front of this building — the Holy Name Church on Oxford Road. Today saw a rare excursion around the back, and thus a chance to inspect its adornment of razor wire, a deterrent you’d think a consecrated place could do without. But clearly divine intervention is not something that puts off the lead thieves (which I assume is the point of all this).
I have developed some druidic powers. I can, fairly reliably, summon a robin. It’s quite easy actually — simply go up to the garden, dig over part of it, and wait five minutes. One will usually appear to check over the bounty that has been revealed. This one was quite unperturbed by the presence of both myself and Clare, and has a look on his face that suggests he thinks we should be doing more digging — I reckon robins are evolving to use humans as manual labour, in fact. Perhaps they will be our overlords in a few dozen millennia,
Being 42 