Wednesday 30th October 2024, 3.35pm (day 4,815)

“But… I had nothing to do with all those emails! I told them I don’t know anything….!”
“Shaddup. When they come for us, you’re going first.”

“But… I had nothing to do with all those emails! I told them I don’t know anything….!”
“Shaddup. When they come for us, you’re going first.”

After the weekend away, the day spent almost entirely at home working to make up. Use was thereby prompted of a stock late October shot, but what the hell.

Though we have been staying in London over the weekend, this part of the Thames is further upstream, just past Marlow, where the river forms the Buckinghamshire/Berkshire border for a while. I am very happy with this shot, as it turned out just as was hoped when I pressed the shutter. It seems to sum up two things about the Thames at this point — the wildlife and natural qualities are pretty good, and there’s certainly a lot of blatant displays of wealth around.

The gentleman in the hat, pondering the action, is Steve Gritt, coach of Hornchurch FC. Though this story is, I am sure, of only the vaguest interest to most people, the reason I depict him on here today is that back in 1997 Mr. Gritt was appointed manager of Brighton & Hove Albion FC (a.k.a. ‘my lot’), when they were 11 points adrift at the bottom of the entire Football League and facing relegation and oblivion. A few months later, however, he had achieved the seemingly impossible, and Brighton survived with an (in)famous 1-1 draw at Hereford, who went down instead. 27 years later and the Albion are playing their eighth season in the Premier League. Not that Steve Gritt had anything much more to do with that part of the tale (he left the club in 1998) but all Brighton fans certainly owe him our thanks.
And so, realising that he was the coach of the club I had randomly come to see, I waited to shake his hand and give him that thanks as he came off the pitch. And I was pleased I had had the opportunity, and took it. OK, random stalker moment over, moving on…

Maybe not ‘outstanding’, but Friday night was pretty good; the first part of a fine weekend away, to celebrate Clare’s birthday (Saturday).
If you’re wondering what exactly is so outstanding here, it’s a school, trumpeting its Ofsted (Office for Standards in Education) rating. Not a modest institution.

As I have said several times on here down the years, and all (logically) at this time of year, I think Halloween is a commercialist pile of plastic-pushing poo. On the other hand, this pub facade is quite well done. And as I have been walking past it, both to and from work, for years, I don’t remember seeing it before so someone has actually put in the effort in. Credit for that, at least.

This is a fairly stock campus shot, but then again it was a fairly stock campus day. At least there are people in it, which is more than has been the case for several other recent photos.

Walking around in the countryside, as I do, I noticed that there was nothing stopping me standing in this position and attempting to get this shot: which only really works if the symmetry is just right, and in that regard I think I have done a reasonable job. In a way, it’s a shame about the wires, but then again, they are the point of the structure.

The world turns. Bearing in mind that the earliest I have seen the sun reappear at one side of our house in the mornings is around 16th February, and assuming a basic symmetry on each side of the Winter Solstice, that means it’s about to disappear for the winter, an event that is rather less noticeable. But bearing in mind the clocks are going back in a few days, quite soon even this rather wan level of sunlight isn’t going to make it over the chimneys… and we’ll see it in February. (It’s not like winter in Tromsø though, that’s true.)