For those drinkers that prefer to start earlier, 7.15pm is getting towards the hazy stage of the evening. Whatever party was going on in the other room, at this point it spilled out into our part of the pub, at least for a short time.
The group of humans and dogs who, on sunny afternoons like this one, generally are to be found occupying the seats out the front of the Railway Inn, are very much a pack. And for the canine members, like Diamond (in black livery) and Hugo, this is just fine, it fits their view of the world and each other. I like this portrait, it seems to sum up their character. I am letting it off the blob of flare on Diamond’s neck, too, which does not seem to detract too much.
It’s approaching chucking out time on Monday night in the White Swan but Hugo doesn’t want to go anywhere. He’s quite comfy, thank you.
A week off work thus far, and, including today, three days still to come. Perhaps I could have made more of an effort today, but beer was certainly a constitutive part of Saturday 8th April 2023, so let’s celebrate it.
I don’t feel that I have captured the social aspects of this city, which are considerable, and pleasant. What a nice place, perhaps I will never be back before I die, but if not — (as with many other places, like Saigon and Tallinn and Berlin) — that will be a shame. Viva Barcelona. There are many worse places to hang out.
This amount of light, sunshine and relative warmth at 5pm are definite signs of spring. The equinox is past us, the nights are only getting longer. Not that Gus looks all that happy about it.
The house pooch of the Star Inn, Penzance, doesn’t necessarily take his guard dog duties all that seriously, at least not where the breakfast buffet is concerned. Then again I was the only guest, so presumably he’d decided I was legitimate.
And so ends February 2023, a varied month for me, some very interesting periods and some deadly dull ones. Photographically, it ends in a pub on Stoke-on-Trent station, mainly for lighting reasons. Though the beer was quite good too.
The weather this week: long spells of heavy reading, becoming marking; some intervals of lighter reading. When this report was written, in 1985, it was commentary. Now, it’s history. Same words, different perspective.
There really isn’t anything happening at the moment; and not a great deal to be done about this, until the weekend anyway. In the pub, our landlady feels the need to retract a statement presumably made over the Christmas period. The grammar is not mine, no complaints please.
Being 42 