On the drive over to parents and parents-in-law for Christmas, a view over to Heptonstall, which rises above Hebden Bridge (being the original village) and has featured on many pictures in the past. Perhaps I have post-processed this one too much but with the continuing grey light, in colour this one looked kind of wan and washed out, the mist being just patches of out-of-focus space. In black and white I prefer it and the church comes out more.
It’s been a while since a post-midnight shot made it onto the blog; my Saturday was otherwise entertaining enough but rather than display more football, here is Clare coming home from our Friday night out (also undepicted). A night out on the cobbles, rather than the tiles? Either way, Christmas is upon us, more or less.
Not quite ‘last minute’ Christmas shopping but I did finish it off today. My, there’s a whole load of tat in the world, and as it’s been manufactured for generations by now, ‘Antiques Centres’ can fill themselves with it all and sell it on, until then the owners die and there’s a house clearance and it all goes back on sale again. I did like this bevy of porcelain figures though; not that I bought any (whether at £18 or otherwise). Although the blonde at the back was doing her best to tempt potential buyers.
Little to add except that it was time to get out into some mountains again — even if they weren’t very high. The late December gloom never really lifted all day, but for this shot, it doesn’t matter.
When graduation ceremonies have appeared on here in the past they have either been those at Manchester or a couple in Moscow, back a few years ago. But this one, today, is at the University of Leeds — and I was not present through professional duty but personal connection, seeing as it was Clare who was celebrating the award of her (second) MA in Psychotherapy and Counselling. Well done to her and to everyone else there today — our C was at the front, far away from the camera, but these graduates nearer where I was sat capture the mood of the day just as well.
A damp, soggy evening, and when we potential passengers were told that the bus I was waiting for was to be half an hour late, I gave up and made other arrangements for the evening. So be it — this was my last day of work in Manchester of 2018, and frankly, for now, I’m just glad to see the back of the place. I need some downtime…
This could be the first confirmed death of an organism to be documented on the blog: unlike this bumblebee, the wasp didn’t get away. Paralysed, wrapped in unbreakable bonds and dragged away to some dark corner where its captor will slowly suck its juices out over the next couple of days. I hope your ending is not as harsh as that. Nor mine, come to that.
A very unexciting day today, not least because I had to work for much of it — but by this point, that is over, and there are only two more working days left for me until Christmas. Whether the break will get much more exciting than this, who knows; but as usual at this time of year, I couldn’t really care.
These guys — fans of Morpeth Town — look surprisingly cheerful considering they have just come a couple of hundred miles, from Northumberland to Yorkshire, to watch a football match that did not in the end take place. Literally as I arrived at Brighouse Town FC, 2.30pm, the match was called off due to a layer of sleet and hail that had sprayed itself over the pitch from about 2:00. Bummer. I was grumpy, anyway, and I’d only come on a bus from Hebden Bridge.
The corner of Charles Street and Princess Street in Manchester: a significant place in rock music history. I’m declaring a moratorium — no more photos of building sites here for a while. But there’s nothing wrong with putting up photos of a Factory. (The old Factory Records HQ, that is.)
Being 42 