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.
An abstract, but appropriate metaphor for life today. The signature on the glass says John Smith but the product is different. And, no, it’s not all the same in the end.
A holiday weekend — no work tomorrow! (Unless of course you work in one of the many professions in which this idea of a mandated holiday is just a pipe dream.) But it was an excuse to go out and enjoy company and dress in silly yellow hats, if that’s your bag.
A day at home, between trips away, and watching the beer get delivered to the pub (from across the road, for some reason) was the day’s chief entertainment. Diamond the dog becomes the latest animal to make theblog twice, adopting much the same position as on her first appearance.
It is, perhaps, a little early to be taking a nap, but it was Sunday, after all. We’ve all been there.
Being 42 