Tuesday 3rd May 2022, 4.35pm (day 3,904)

A very limited day in terms of photographic opportunities. It was some cherry blossom again, or pub dog Reggie being mildly exploited. But he doesn’t mind this kind of thing, it’s his job.
A very limited day in terms of photographic opportunities. It was some cherry blossom again, or pub dog Reggie being mildly exploited. But he doesn’t mind this kind of thing, it’s his job.
From Luddenden — setting for yesterday’s blue-sky picture — to London, which is rather bigger, but in which the weather continues to be very pleasant. The blues seen here come partly from the sky but also this glass, which was a vivid blue and caught the eye. Clare gets on, at least in part, for the second time in three days and soon will be surpassing Joe in terms of the number of blog appearances overall.
It’s Sunday afternoon in the Railway. Meaning, it’s Karaoke Afternoon. This is a regular Sunday thing, like church. And the singing is no better. The arrival of the m.c. — here, about to start his set-up — is a sign to head to a different part of the building, out of earshot.
After ten shots in a row with no people on them, let’s admit I do still occasionally join the social world. And Whitelock’s in Leeds really is a fine place to do it: the blue plaque acknowledging that this is a pub with much history, opened in 1715 and still going very strong. Arguably this place is the best thing about Leeds, and that’s not even to diminish the rest of the city.
This is definitely a coven of like-minded females, and they’re plotting something. But I’m confident that they’re of the white persuasion, somehow. It’s the hair that gives away their shared allegiance.
I think this sums up this particular acquaintance. If the guy that you think is Jim doesn’t have a glass of red wine in front of him, then it’s not him.
One of the recent candidates for “Railway pub dog”, Roxy is almost always seen standing, here or (if it’s cold) by the fire. Sitting and lying down are just things other dogs do. She is a patient creature, but I guess that’s a requirement for all candidate pub dogs. The leash is purely symbolic.
Next week will mark ten and a half years that I have been doing this. In that time people have come and gone: at least two friends who have appeared on here at some point have died in the last 12 months. But new faces arrive in turn. I haven’t known these two as long as some others but now it’s Mark and Yathi’s turn to debut on here.
Serious combat in the Railway this evening. Somehow black and white photography seems appropriate for this subject matter.