Sunday 29th July 2018, 7.35pm (day 2,530)
On the wettest day for months, and trapped in the house, Joe initiates his parents into bizarre Dice Man-style games of chance, in which the family fortune teeters on the edge of a d20. The wine is Clare’s.
Being 42
Life, one day at a time
Tag Archives: photos
Start of the season
Saturday 28th July 2018, 3.00pm (day 2,529)
It’s that 3pm Saturday feeling again. OK, I admit it, this is actually my second game of the 2018-19 season — you don’t think I went to Rhyl on the 12th just to take the air, now, did you? — but the first to be depicted on here. The balmy weather broke definitively, particularly over Gretna, which is just over the border in Scotland and was whipped all day by a very chilly wind coming straight off the Irish Sea. Under this grey blanket Gretna FC, in white, and Edinburgh University FC trot out for their first game of their seasons, in the Lowland League, all full of optimism and hope, something that 90 minutes later the students probably maintained better than their hosts, seeing as they deservedly won 3-0.
Dead and gone
Friday 27th July 2018, 6.30pm (day 2,528)
A few more months of this current climate and the whole planet will look like this. Sort of like the beginning of Interstellar. Or even if it does cool down, we’ll manage it anyway, by killing off the bees.
David Bow-wow
Thursday 26th July 2018, 4.55pm (day 2,527)
This dog’s actual name is Finn, but with eyes like that the nickname David Bow-wow just seems right to me. He’s one of the more affectionate creatures you will meet.
Under the arches, St. Peter’s Square
Wednesday 25th July 2018, 7.30am (day 2,526)
For the second time in a fortnight, the photo of the day that I find most pleasing visually happens to include a guy sleeping on the pavement. As the numbers of pictures accumulate on this blog, each being a snapshot (literally) of a moment in a day, statistically it comes to reflect the patterns of my life, where I am the most, the times of day I do things, the things I see around me. And there are more men and women sleeping on the streets of Manchester around me than ever before. It’s a fact.
The ducks get a shower
Tuesday 24th July 2018, 1.35pm (day 2,525)
Rain…. briefly anyway. Enough to soak me on the way back from town as well as give these ducks a dousing on the river.
Joe, in the eponymous art gallery
Monday 23rd July 2018, 2.20pm (day 2,524)
First weekday of the school summer holidays, and Joe Whitworth expresses his opinion at spending this in the Whitworth Art Gallery. Well, it’s five minutes from the place where I’ve worked for thirteen years and I’ve never been, which seeing as it shares my name is pretty shameful. There were work reasons to visit too. But was it exciting? Not really. So I kind of share his yawn.
Watching ‘The Blues Brothers’
Sunday 22nd July 2018, 7.55pm (day 2,523)
Although this is similar to a photo I did last weekend let’s include it anyway, as it does depict the most fun part of the day, and I also wanted something today that encapsulated something about my home town — seeing as this is the 1,000th Hebden Bridge photo to appear on here in the near seven years I’ve been going. The town maintains a fairly constant rate of appearing on about 40% of the days.
If you do like The Blues Brothers by the way, do seek it out on the big screen: the sound is just so much better and so the music (which is the point of the movie after all) comes alive. Highly recommended.
Ullswater
Saturday 21st July 2018, 10.45am (day 2,522)
While the very warm and sunny weather seems to have come to an end, it was still a fine day for messing around in the Lake District.
I assume, incidentally, that one of the two boats is at least thinking of heading to the island to retrieve the people seen thereon. If not, it was quite a swim to the shore from there.
Tour de France (on TV)
Friday 20th July 2018, 4.45pm (day 2,521)
The Tour de France belied its name and came through Hebden Bridge (and past my front door) in 2014 if you recall, but here it gets seen in less direct and energetic form. The week comes to an end in the pub, instead. Well, this is what normally happens.
Being 42 