Thursday 18th May 2023, 5.35pm (day 4,284)

No comments to add to this one. Just a portrait of a friend.
No comments to add to this one. Just a portrait of a friend.
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.
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.
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.
Opening time at my local pub is 3pm on Tuesdays, and a nice thing about arriving early is that I get to light the well-laid fire. The lump of lava on the right is a firelighter doing its job: within a few minutes this whole construction will be alight. Sometimes the interest is in the details — such as the paper to the left, what series of numbers goes 3, 10, 50, 70, 100 I wonder?
It’s that time of year when everyone looked outside at a particular point and said to each other — is it really only a quarter to five? We won’t be seeing daylight at that time again until about February. The rain was added atmosphere, but it is still needed. I like the ‘eye’ effect suggested by the lamp.
Thora is, of course, not a mogwai — the creature that spawns the Gremlins in the movie of that name — but she sure looks like one.
I have been looking at this sign for some months now, but only today really understood the implications. I’ve seen dog ice cream for sale, and in the Arndale centre in Manchester there is now a whole stall selling little doggy cakes and pastries. But dog karaoke? Methinks we are starting to pamper our little pooches just that little bit too much. Although I doubt the singing would be appreciably worse.
Of all the days over the two weeks since I effectively lost my access to photos, this was the dullest and least eventful. Getting a shot of C’s coat, left as she went to buy a drink, and somehow imagining that it looks like her shade or phantom, was about as exciting as it got. Sometimes Thursdays are like that. One cannot always get the hang of Thursdays.