It’s been a hard few months. Photographically I mean (of course there have been other reasons). But lockdown, in all its arbitrary ways, has drained the land of life, at a time of year when we really benefit from the company of others and the things they bring. In that respect, at least, things are slowly looking up. Manchester now seems to have some energy back, as befits a big city. Finally.
In a week when the ‘big clubs’ either took the piss by calling a massive bluff, or finally over-reached themselves with their hubris, it seems apposite to put up a picture of some actual football: you know, the sort where there’s still competition, intimacy, and interest. Plus, a nice background at Brighouse Sports FC of the West Yorkshire League D2 (they’re the ones in yellow, and won 4-0). I find it ‘Super’, anyway.
A day working at home gained interest through getting a masterclass in roofing from these guys working on the house over the road. At the beginning of the day that roof looked like the one of no. 31 next door. Roofing’s one of those specialist talents that very few people have, but which we all need, isn’t it? And I’d take some persuading to spend a whole day on that scaffold (constructed by another professional group that we need to just trust).
This morning was one of those occasions where a minor diversion from my usual route — in this case, leaving Victoria station by a different exit — helped me spot an opportunity for a picture. I had never noticed the S & M nature of this war memorial before. People pay to get trampled in this fashion: or so I’m informed. Actually I think the sub creature is an imp, or little devil of some kind, rather than a cherub: but the wings took longer to see.
“I don’t know who you are, but play with me anyway! Look, I have the Thing ready!”
Sunday afternoon — in a pub beer garden once again. Well, it’s still a novelty, and the sun is still shining.
I decided yesterday’s photo was a misrepresentation, so here is a definite example of a crowd. And if people hadn’t wanted to be there, they wouldn’t have been there.
Before anyone gets too obstreperous I will observe this is a long zoom taken down almost the full length of the football pitch. The vertical white posts are each about two meters apart. As we saw when all this kicked off a year ago, it’s quite possible to use a camera to create the impression of crowding where none exists. But it was still good to see at least 70 people at this match (an entertaining game at Eagley FC in Bolton). In any case, the sooner we start to feel close to one another again, the better.
Perhaps it is a little unfair to return to this theme again, because coming back through Manchester city centre in the afternoon, it was busier than I have seen it in a very long time — probably since Christmas 2019. The British populace is supporting the hospitality industry in its time of need, put it that way. But the teaching spaces at uni remain unused. However, I have some one-to-one meetings to organise and this gazebo looks a good place to check out. Like everyone else, I hope the sunshine continues for several weeks.
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.)
Into Manchester for the first time in 16 days. The city centre has busied itself, at least in the afternoon. Campus is still a wasteland, however. The government and administrators in their wisdom have decreed that they will only consider letting students actually meet their professors and each other after it’s far too late to make a difference this year. Optimistically the finishing touches get made to the new Engineering building but whether this white mammoth will ever be used to its full potential remains to be seen.
Should I have retouched the ‘exclamation mark’ at the top? I did consider it. Maybe it’s symbolic.
Although I quite like the image of this guy’s golden sunglasses, the significance is more carried by what is visible behind his head; that table sits, as did we, in the beer garden of the White Swan in Hebden Bridge. Yes folks, the pubs are open again — if you want to wrap up and go al fresco, anyway. Hurrah for that at least.
Being 42 